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ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA.
Cncprtopaetita Jkitaumca:
OR, A
DICTIONARY
OF
ARTS, SCIENCES, AND MISCELLANEOUS
LITERATURE;
ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.
THE SIXTH EDITION.
BllustirateU Imtf) nearly $\v ftuntrreti (Dngrabmgs^
VOL. XIII.
INDOCTI DISCANT ; AMENT MEMINISSE PERITI.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY;
AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND COMPANY, 90, CHEAPSIDE,
LONDON.
1823.
! -
"■
y ,
alS-'^APg
% 1966
Encyclopaedia Britannica
MAT
Material /T ATLRI AL, denotes something composed of
Material'- ) VI matter. In which sense the word stands
ists. opposed to immaterial. See Matter and Meta-
physics.
MATERIALISTS, a sect in the ancient church,
composed of persons who, being prepossessed with that
maxim in the ancient philosophy, Ev nihilo nihil Jit,
tl Out of nothing nothing can arise,” had recourse to an
internal matter, on which they supposed God wrought
in the creation •, instead of admitting God alone as the
sole cause of the existence of all things. Tertullian vi-
M A T
gorously opposes the doctrine of the materialists in his Material-
treatise against Hermogenes, who was one of their |sts^
number.
Materialists is also a name given to those who
maintain that the soul of man is material j or that the
principle of perception and thought is not a substance
distinct from the body, but the result of corporeal orga¬
nization : See Metaphysics. There are others, call¬
ed by this name, who have maintained that there is
nothing but matter in the universe $ and that the Deity
himself is material. See Spinoza.
MATHEMATICS.
Definition TVyf ATHEMATICS is divided into tiVo kinds, pure
-of mathe- -lYx anj mixed. In pure mathematics magnitude is
tuatics. considered in the abstractand as they are founded on
the simplest notions of quantity, the conclusions to
which they lead have the same evidence and certainty
as the elementary principles from which these conclu¬
sions are deduced. This branch of mathematics com¬
prehends, l. Arithmetic, which treats of the properties
of numbers. 2. Geometry, which treats of extension
as endowed with three dimensions, length, breadth, and
thickness, without considering the physical qualities
inseparable from bodies in their natural state. 3. Al¬
gebra, sometimes called universal arithmetic, which
compares together all kinds of quantities, whatever be
their value. 4. The direct and inverse method of Flux¬
ions, (called on the continent, the differential and inte¬
gral calculi), which consider magnitudes as divided in¬
to two kinds, constant and variable, the variable magni¬
tudes being generated by motion ; and which deter¬
mines the value of quantities from the velocities of the
motions with which they are generated. Mixed Mathe¬
matics is the application of pure mathematics to certain
established physical principles, and comprehends all the
physico-mathematical sciences, namely, 1. Mechanics ;
2. Hydrodynamics; 3. Optics; 4. Astronomy ; 5. A-
coustics ; 6. Electricity ; and, 7. Magnetism. The hi¬
story of these various branches of science having been
given at full length, we shall at present direct the at¬
tention of the reader to the origin and progress of pure
mathematics.
2. In attempting to discover the origin of arithmetic
Vol. XIII. Part I.
and geometry, it woulS be a fruitless task to conduct
the reader into those ages of fable which preceded the
records of authentic history. Our means of informa¬
tion upon this subject are extremely limited and im¬
perfect and it Would but ill accord with the dignity
of a science whose principles and conclusions are alike
irresistible, to found its history upon conjecture and
fable. But notwithstanding this obscurity in which Tjie scl-_
the early history of the sciences is enveloped, one thing enccs on-
appears certain, that arithmetic and geometry, and some Rinated in
of the physical sciences, had made considerable progress Egypt-
in Egypt, when the mysteries and the theology of that
favoured kingdom were transplanted into Greece. It
is highly probable that much natural and moral know¬
ledge was taught in the Eleusinian and Dionysian my¬
steries, which the Greeks borrowed from the Egyptians,
and that several of the Grecian philosophers wei’e in¬
duced by this circumstance to travel into Egypt, in
search of those higher degrees of knowledge, which an
acquaintance with the Egyptian mysteries had taught
them to anticipate. We accordingly find Thales andA< q 64#>
Pythagoras successively under the tuition of, the Egyp- A. C. 590.
tian priests, and returning into Greece loaded with the
intellectual treasures of Egypt. By the establishment
of the Ionian school at Miletus, Thales instructed his Discoveries
countrymen in the knowledge which he had received, of Thales,
and gave birth to that spirit of investigation and dis¬
covery with which his followers were inspired. He
taught them the method of ascertaining the height of
the pyramids of Memphis by the length of their
shadows, *, and there is reason to believe that he was the
A I first
2
MATHEMATICS,
first who employed the circumference of a circle for the
mensuration of angles. That he was the author of
greater discoveries, which have been either lost or
ascribed to others, there can he little doubt} but these
are the only facts in the history of Thales which time
has spared.
Discoveries 3. The science of arithmetic was one of the chief
ot Pytlia- branches of the Pythagorean discipline. Pythagoras
goras. attached several mysterious virtues to certain combina¬
tions of numbers. He swore by fow-, which he regard¬
ed as the chief of numbers. In the number three he
supposed many wonderful properties to exist 5 and he
regarded a knowledge of arithmetic as the chief good.
But of all Pythagoras’s discoveries in arithmetic, none
have reached our times but his multiplication table. In
geometry, however, the philosopher of Samos seems to
have been more successful. The discovery of the ce¬
lebrated proposition which forms the 47th of the first
hook of Euclid’s Elements, that in every right-angled
triangle the square of the side subtending the right
angle is equal to the sum of the squares of the other
two sides, has immortalized bis name j and whether -we
consider the inherent beauty of the proposition, or the
extent of its application in the mathematical sciences,
we cannot fail to class it among the most important
truths in geometry. From this proposition its author
concluded that the diagonal of a square is incommen¬
surate to its side 5 and this gave occasion to the dis¬
covery of several general properties of other incom¬
mensurate lines and numbers.
4. In the time which elapsed between the birth of Py¬
thagoras and the destruction of the Alexandrian school,
the mathematical sciences were cultivated with great
ardour and success. Many of the elementary propositions
of geometry were discovered during this period ; but
history does not enable us to refer each discovery to its
proper author. The method of letting fall a perpendi¬
cular upon a right line from a given point (Euclid, B. I.
prop, xi.) ;—of dividing an angle into two equal parts,
(Euclid, B. I. prop, ix.) ; and of making an angle equal
to a given angle, (Euclid, B. I. prop, xxiii.) were in-
S'oenopi!5 yentcd Oenopidus of Chios. About the same time
dusand Ze- ^en°dorus, some of whose writings have been preserved
nodorus. by Theon in his commentary on Ptolemy, demonstrated,
in opposition to the opinion then entertained, that iso-
perimetrical figures have equal areas. Coeval with this
discovery was the theory of regular bodies, for which
we are indebted to the Pythagorean school,
hrtted^r A ^^out t*1116 t*16 Celebrated problem of the du-
blem of the T)llcat/on °f the cuf)e began to occupy the attention of
duplication kreek geometers. In this problem it was required
of the cube to construct a cube whose solid content should be
proposed double that of a given cube j and the assistance of no
tigatedf8 °^er instrument but the rule and compasses was to be
employed. The origin of this problem has been a-
scribed by tradition to a demand of one of the Grecian
deities. The Athenians having offered some affront to
Apollo, were afflicted with a dreadful pestilence j and
upon consulting the oracle at Delos, received for an¬
swer, Double the altar of Apollo. The altar alluded to
happened to be cubical •, and the problem, supposed to
be of divine origin, was investigated with ardour by the
Greek geometers, though it afterwards baffled all their
acuteness. J he solution of this difficulty was attempt-
A. C. 450. cd by Hippocrates of Chios. He discovered, that if
two mean proportionals could be found between the
side of the given cube, and the double of that side, the
first of these proportionals would be the side of the
cube sought. In order to effect this, Plato invented an
instrument composed of two rules, one of which moved
in grooves cut in two arms at right angles to the
other, so as always to continue parallel with it ; but as
this method was mechanical, and likewise supposed the
description of a curve of the third order, it did not sa¬
tisfy the ancient geometers. The doctrine of conic Conic sec-
sections, which was at this time introduced into geo-tions disco,
metry by Plato, and which was so widely extended as
to receive the name of the higher geometryy was success- ^ f ^9^
fully employed in the problem of doubling the cube.
Menechmus found that the two mean proportionals men¬
tioned by Hippocrates, might be considered as the ordi¬
nates of two conic sections, which being constructed ac¬
cording to the conditions of the problem, would intersect
one another in two points proper for the solution of the-
problem. The question having assumed this form, gavie
rise to the theory of geometi'ical loci, of which so man?
important applications have been made. In doubling
the cube, therefore, we have only to employ the instru¬
ments which have been invented for describing the
conic sections by one continued motion. It was after¬
wards found, that instead of employing two conic sec¬
tions, the problem could be solved by the intersection of
the circle of the parabola. Succeeding geometers em¬
ployed other curves for this purpose, such as the con- A. C. 2So.
choid of Nicomedes and the cissoid of Diocles, &c. A- C. 460.
An ingenious method of finding the two mean propor¬
tionals, without the aid of the conic sections, was after- A. D. 400.
wards given by Pappus in his mathematical collections.
6. Another celebrated problem, to trisect an angle, The trisec-
tvas agitated in the school of Plato. It wras found thattion of au
this problem depended upon principles analogous to those an^e'
of the duplication of the cube, and that it could be con¬
structed either by the intersection of two conic sections,
or by the intersection of a circle with a parabola.
Without the aid of the conic sections, it was reduced to
this simple proposition :—To draw a line to a semicircle
from a given point, which line shall cut its circumfer¬
ence, and the prolongation of the diameter that forms
its base, so that the part of the line comprehended be¬
tween the two points of intersection shall he equal to
the radius. From this proposition several easy construc¬
tions may be derived. Dinostratus of the Platonic
school, and the cotemporary of Menechmus, invented a
curve by •which the preceding problem might be solved.
It had the advantage also of giving the multiplication of
an angle, and the quadrature of the circle, from which
it derived the name of quadratrix.
7- ^7hile Hippocrates of Chios w’as paving the way Hippo-
for the method of doubling the cube, which was after- cratcs‘s
wards given by Pappus, he distinguished himself by the ‘"“j!*1-
quadrature of the lunuke of the circle j and had from ~
this circumstance the honour of being the first who found
a curvilineal area equal to a space bounded by right
lines. He was likewise the author of Elements of
Geometry, a work, which, though highly approved of by
his cotemporaries, has shared the same fate with some
of the most valuable productions of antiquity.
8. After the conic sections had been introduced into
geometry by Plato, they received many important ad¬
ditions from Eudoxus, Menechmus, and Aristeus. The
latter
1
MATHEMATICS.
C, .jo. latter of these philosophers wrote Jive books on conic
sections, which, unfortunately for science, have not
. C. 300. reached our times.
ilemcutsof 9* About this time appeared Euclid’s Elements of
iuclid. Geometry, a work which has been employed for 2000
years in teaching the principles of mathematics, and
which is still reckoned the most complete work upon the
subject. Peter Ramus has ascribed toTheon both the pro¬
positions and the demonstrations in Euclid. It has been
the opinion of others that the propositions belong to
Euclid, and the demonstrations to Theon, while others
Lave given to Euclid the honour of both. It seems most
probable, however, that Euclid merely collected and ar¬
ranged the geometrical knowledge of the ancients, and
that he supplied many new propositions in order to form
that chain of reasoning which runs through his ele¬
ments. This great work of the Greek geometer con¬
sists of fifteen books : the eleven first bookst contain the
elements of pure geometry, and the rest contain the
general theory of ratios, and the leading properties of
commensurate and incommensurate numbers,
discoveries IO' Archimedes, the greatest geometer among the an-
fArchi- cients, flourished about half a century alter Euclid,
aedes. He was the first who found the ratio between the dia-
i. C. 250. meter of a circle and its circumference ; and, by a me¬
thod of approximation, he determined this ratio to be as
7 to 22. This result was obtained by taking an arithme¬
tical mean between the perimeters of the inscribed and
circumscribed polygon, and is sufficiently accurate for
every practical purpose. Many attempts have since
been made to assign the precise ratio of the circumfer¬
ence of a circle to its diameter ; but in the present state
of geometry this problem does not seem to admit of a
solution. The limits of this article will not permit us
to enlarge upon the discoveries of the philosopher ol
Syracuse. We can only state, that he discovered the
superficies of a sphere to be equal to the convex surface
of the circumscribed cylinder, or to the area of four of
its great circles, and that the solidity of the sphere is
to that of the cylinder as 3 to 2. He discovered that
the solidity of the paraboloid is one half that of the cir¬
cumscribed cylinder, and that the area of the parabola
is two thirds that of the circumscribed rectangle and
he was the first who pointed out the method of drawing
tangents and forming spirals. These discoveries are
contained in his works on the dimension of the circle,
on the sphere and cylinder, on conoids and spheroids,
and on spiral lines. Archimedes was so fond of his
discovery of the proportion between the solidity of the
sphere and that of the cylinder, that he ordered to be
placed upon his tomb a, sphere inscribed in a cylinder,
and likewise the numbers which express the ratio ot
these solids.
Discoveries II* While geometry was thus advancing with such
of Apollo- rapid steps, Apollonius Pergaeus, so called from being
mus. born at Perga in Pamphylia, followed in the steps ot
A C. 2co. Archimedes, and widely extended the boundaries of
the science. In addition to several mathematical works,
which are now lost, Apollonius wrote a treatise on the
theory of the conic sections, which contains all their
properties with relation to their axes, their diameters,
and their tangents. He demonstrated the celebrated
theorem, that the parallelogram described about the
two conjugate diameters of an ellipse or hyperbola is
equal to the rectangle described round the two axes,
and that the sum or dift’erence of the squares of the two
conjugate diameters are equal to the sum or difference
of the squares of the two axes. In his fifth book he de¬
termines the greatest and the least lines that can be
drawn to the circumferences of the conic sections from
a given point, whether this point is situated in or out
of the axis. This work, which contains everywhere
the deepest marks of an inventive genius, procured for
its author the appellation of the Gt'eat Geometer*
12. There is some reason to believe, that the Egyp-Menclaus
tians were a little acquainted with plane trigonometry j wr*tes on
and there can he no doubt that it was known to the sPjier^a^
Greeks. Spherical trigonometry, which is a more diffi-A “
cult part of geometry", does not seem to have made any
progress till the time of Menelaus, an excellent geo¬
metrician and astronomer. In his work on spherical
triangles, he gives the method of constructing them,
and of resolving most of the cases which were necessary
in the ancient astronomy. An introduction to sphe-Theodo-
rical trigonometry had already been given to the world sjus’s sphe-
hy Theodosius in his Treatise on Spherics, where he”cs^, ^
examines the relative properties of different circles'
formed by cutting a sphere in all dfrections.
13. Though the Greeks had made great progress in Progress of
the science of geometry, they do not seem to have analysis,
hitherto considered quantity in its general or abstract
state. In the writings of Plato we can discover some¬
thing like traces of geometrical analysis j and in the
seventh proposition of Archimedes’s work on the sphere
and the cylinder, these traces are more distinctly mark¬
ed. He.reasons about unknown magnitudes as if they
were known, and he finally arrives at an analogy, which,
when put into the language of algebra, gives an equa¬
tion of the third degree, which leads to the solution of
the problem.
14. It was reserved, however, for Diophantus to lay The analy-
the foundation of the modern analysis, by his inventionsis °f indc-
of the analysis of indeterminate problems 5 for the me- prolj]en^sC
thod which he employed in the resolution of these pro- inventcd by
blems has a striking analogy to the present mode of re-Diophan-
solving equations of the 1st and 2d degrees. He wastus-
likewise the author of thirteen books on arithmetic, se-A‘ ' 35°-
veral of which are now lost. The works of Diophantus
were honoured with a commentary by the beautiful and
leanied Hypatia, the daughter of Theon. The sameA. D. 410.
fanaticism which led to the murder of this accomplished
female was probably the cause that her works have not
descended to posterity.
15. Near the end of the fourth century of the Chris-Mathema-
tian era, Pappus of Alexandria published his mathe-ticalcollec-
matical collections, a work which, besides many new
propositions of his own, contains the most valuable pro¬
ductions of ancient geometry. Out of the eight books a. D. 400.
of which this work consisted, two have been lost j the
rest are occupied with questions in geometry, astrono¬
my, and mechanics.
16. Diocles, whom we have already had occasion to Discoveries
mention as the inventor of the cissoid, discovered the^ Dioc.** .
solution of a problem proposed by Archimedes, viz. to
cut a sphere by a plane in a given ratio, ffhe solution
of Diocles has been conveyed to us by Eutocius, who
wrote commentaries on some of the works of Archi¬
medes and Apollonius, A. D. 520. About the time
A 2 of
4
and Sere-
iuis.
X.abour5 of
Proclus.
A. D. 500.
Destruc¬
tion of the
Alexan¬
drian li¬
brary.
Revival of
science.
I). 960.
Progress of
the Arabs
iii geome¬
try.
MATHEMATICS.
of Diodes flourished Serenus, who wrote two books on
the cylinder and cone, which have been published at the
end of Halley’s edition of Apollonius.
17. Geometry was likewise indebted to Proclus, the
head of the Platonic school at Athens, not only from his
patronage of men of science, but his commentary on the
first book of Euclid. Mathematics -were also cultivat-
by Marinus, the author of the Introduction to Euclid’s
Data;—by Isidorus of Miletus, who was a disciple of
Proclus, and by Hero the younger, whose work, en¬
titled Geodesia,.contains the method of determining the
area of a triangle from its three sides.
18. While the mathematical sciences were thus flou¬
rishing in Greece, and ■were so successfully cultivated
by the philosophers of the Alexandrian school, their very
existence was threatened by one of those great revolu¬
tions with which the world has been convulsed. The
dreadful ravages which were committed by the succes¬
sors of Mahomet in Egypt, Persia, and Syria, the de¬
struction of the Alexandrian library by the caliph
Gmar, and the dispersion of a number of those illustrious
men who had flocked to Alexandria as the cultivators
of science, gave a deadly blow to the progress of gcor
metry. When the fanaticism of the Mahometan reli¬
gion, however, had subsided, and the termination of
war had turned the minds of the Arabs to the pursuits
of peace, the arts and sciences engaged their affection,
and they began to kindle those very intellectual lights
which they had so assiduously endeavoured to extinguish.
The works of the Greek geometers were studied with
care 5 and the arts and sciences reviving under the aus¬
pices of the Arabs, were communicated in a more ad¬
vanced condition to the other nations of the world.
19. The system of arithmetical notation at present
adopted in every civilized country, had its origin among
the Arabs. Their system of arithmetic was made known
to Europe by the famous Gerbert, afterwards Pope Syl¬
vester II. who travelled into Spain when it was under
the dominion of that nation.
20. The invention of algebra has been ascribed to the
Arabs by Cardan and Wallis, from the circumstance of
their using the words square, cube, quadrato-quadra-
tum, &c. instead of the 2d, 3d, 4th, &c. powers as
employed by Diophantus, But whatever truth there
may be in this supposition, it appears that they were
able to resolve cubic, and even biquadratic equations,
as there is in the Leyden library, an Arabic MS. en¬
titled “ The Algebra of Cubic Equations, or the Solu¬
tion of Solid Problems.”
21. The various works of the Greek geometers were
translated by the Arabs, and it is through the medium
of an Arabic version, that the fifth and sixth books of
Apollonius have descended to our times. Mahomet Ben
Musa, the author of a work on Plane and Spherical
Figures, and Geber Ben Aphla, who wrote a commen¬
tary on Plato, gave a new form to the plane and spheri¬
cal trigonometry of the ancients. By reducing the
theory of triangles to a few propositions, and by substi¬
tuting, instead of the chords of double ares, the sines of
the arcs themselves, they simplified.this important branch
of geometry, and contributed greatly to the abridge¬
ment of astronomical calculation. A treatise on the
art of surveying was likewise written by Mahomet of
Bagdad.
22. After the destruction of the Alexandrian school
founded by Lagus, one of the successors of Alexander,
the dispersed Greeks continued for a while to cultivate
their favourite sciences, and exhibited some marks of
that genius which had inspired their forefathers. The Moselio.
magic squares were invented by Moschopulos, a disco-pulos’s dis.
very more remarkable for its ingenuity than for itsc°very°.f
practical use. The same subject was afterwards treated
by Cornelius Agrippa in his work on occult philoso¬
phy j by Bachet de Meziria,, a learned algebraist,
about the beginning of the lytu century, and in later
times by Frenicle de Bessi, M. Poignard of Brussels,
De la Hire, and Sauveur.
23. The science of pure mathematics advanced with Algebra in.
a doubtful pace during the 13th, J4th, and 15th centu- traduced
The ale-ebra of the Arabians was introduced in-
o _   _ . _ hv I .pnnnr
to Italy by Leonard of Pisa, who, in the course of his
commercial speculations in the east, had considerable 1202,1228.
intercourse with the Arabs. A work on the Plan!
sphere, and ten books on arithmetic, were written by
Jordanus Nemorarius. The Elements of Euclid were A. D. 123c,
translated by Campanus of Novara. A work on alge-A.D. 1250.
bra, entitled Summa de Arithmetica, Geometria, Pro-
portione et Proportionalitate, was published by Lucas
Paccioli 5 and about the same time appeared Regiomon¬
tanus’s treatise on trigonometry, which contains the me¬
thod of resolving spherical triangles in general, whenA.D. 1494.
the three angles or three sides are known.
24. During the 16th century, algebra and geometry
advanced with rapidity, and received many new disco¬
veries from the Italian philosophers. The formula for A,D. 1505!
the solution of equations of the third degree was dis-^-R- I53S
covered by Scipio Ferri professor of mathematics at
Bologna, and perhaps by Nicholas Tartalea of Brescia ;
and equations of the fourth order were resolved by
Lewis Ferrari, the disciple-of Hieronymus Cardan of
Bononia. This last mathematician published nine books
of arithmetic in 1539 j and in 1545, be added a tenth,
containing the doctrine of cubic equations which he had
received in secrecy from Tartalea, but which he had
so improved as to render tltem in some measure his own.
The common rule for solving cubic equations still goes
by the name of Cardan’s Rule.
25. The irreducible case in cubic equations was sue-Discoveries
cessfully illustrated by Raphael Bombelli of Bologna. °.fBomljeb
He has shown in his algebra, what was then considered ^
as a paradox, that the parts of the formula which repre- ’ I^'
sents each root in the irreducible case, form, when taken
together, a real result; but the paradox vanished when
it was seen from the demonstration of Bombelli that the
imaginary quantities contained in*the two numbers of
the formula necessarily destroyed each other by their
opposite signs. About this time Maurolycus, a Sici-labours of
lian mathematician, discovered the method of summing Mauroly-
up several serieses of numbers, such as the series 1, 2,cus*
3, 4, &c. 5 I, 4, 9, 16, &c. and the series of triangu-D94'
lar numbers, 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, &c. 1C I579‘
26. The science of. analysis is under great obligations Discoveries
Francis Vieta, a native of France. He introduced of Vieta.
to
the present mode of notation, called literal, by employ- Bo™ iS4c-
ing the letters of the alphabet to represent indefiniteDie<i 1603“
given quantities ; and we are also indebted to him for
the method of transforming one equation into another,
whose roots are greater or less than those of the origi¬
nal equation by a given quantity; for the method of
multiplying or dividing their roots by any given num¬
ber.
MATHEMATICS.
>ier.
lom 1550.
Jied iSi-].
^er, Oi depriving equations of tbe second term, and ot
freeing them from fractional coefficients. 'Ihe method
which he has given for resolving equations of the third
and fourth degree is also new and ingenious, and his
mode of obtaining an approximate solution ol equations
of every order is entitled to still higher praise. We
are also indebted to Vieta for the theory of angular
sections, the object of which is to find the general ex¬
pressions of the chords or sines for a series of arcs that
are multiples of each other.
* ogarithms 27* While analysis was making such progress on the
nvented by continent, Bai'on Napier of Merchiston in Scotland was
iaron Na- bringing to perfection his illustrious discovery of the lo-
"f“T' gurithmSy a set of artificial numbers, by which the most
tedious operations in multiplication and division may be
performed merely by addition and subtraction, ’i his
discovery was published at Edinburgh in 1614 in his
work entitled Logarithmomm Canonis Description sen
Arithmetica Supputationum Mirabilis Abbreviatio. It
is well known that there is such a correspondence be¬
tween every arithmetical and geometrical progression,
viz. y°’ J’ 2’ o’ 1’ J*' 1 that any terms of
(.i> 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64,^ J
the geometrical progression may be multiplied or divided
by merely adding or subtracting the corresponding
terms of the arithmetical progression ; thus the product
of four and eight may be found by taking the sum of
the corresponding .terms in tire arithmetical progression,
viz. 2 and 3, for their sum 5 points out 32 as the pro¬
duct of (4 and 8. The numbers o, 1, 2, 3, &c. are
therefore the logarithms of 1, 2, 4, 8, &c. The
choice of the two progressions being altogether arbi¬
trary, Baron Napier took the arithmetical progression
which we have given above, and made the term o cor¬
respond with the unit of the geometrical progression,
which •he regulated in such a manner that when its
terms are represented by the abscissae of an equilateral
hyperbola in which the first absciss and the first ordi¬
nate are each equal to 1, the logarithms are represent¬
ed by the hyperbolic spaces. In' consequence, however,
of the inconvenience of this geometrical progression,
Baron Napier, after consulting upon the subject with
Henry Briggs of Gresham College, substituted the de¬
cuple progression, 1, 10, 100, 1000, of which o, 1, 2,
3, 4, &c. are the logarithms. Nothing now remained
but to construct tables of logarithms, by finding the lo¬
garithms of the intermediate numbers between the terms
A.D 161S *-fie decuple progression. Napier, however, died be¬
fore he was able to calculate these tables j but his loss
was in some measure supplied by Mr Briggs, who applied
himself with zeal to this arduous task, and published in
1618 a table of the logarithms of all numbers from 1 to
1000. In 1624 he published another table containing
the logarithms from 1000 to 20,000, and from 90,000
to 100,000. The defects in Briggs’s tables were filled
up by his friends Gellibrand and Hadrian \ lacq, who
also published new tables containing the logarithms ol
sines, tangents, &c. for 90 degrees.
Discoveries 2^‘ during the time when Napier and Briggs were
0f Harriot fi°ing honour to their country by completing the system
Horn 1560. of logarithms, algebra was making great progress in
Died rdjx.the hands of our countryman Harriot. His Artis ana-
hjticce Praxis, w'hich appeared in 1620, contains, along
with the discoveries of its author, a complete view ol
the state of algebra. He simplified the notation by
3
Tables of
logarithms
computed
by Mr
Briggs.
substituting small letters instead of the capitals introdu¬
ced by Vieta; and he tvas the first who showed that
every equation beyond the first degree may be consider¬
ed as produced by the multiplication of as many simple
equations as there are units in the exponent of the high¬
est power of the unknown quantity. From this be de¬
duced the x'elation which exists between the roots of
an equation, and the coefficients of the terms of which
it consists.
29. About the same time, a foreign author named Fer-Fcrnel first
nel, physician to King Henry II. of France, had theg*ves
merit of being the first who gave the measure of the
earth. By reckoning the number of turns made by a *
coacli-whcel from Amiens to Paris, till the altitude of
the pole star was increased one degree, be estimated the
length of a degree of the meridian to be 56,746 toises,
which is wonderfully near the truth. He also wrote a
work on mathematics, entitled De Proportionibus
About this time it was shown by Peter Metius, a Ger-Metius
man mathematician, that if the diameter of a circle be finds
113, its circumference will be 355. This result, somoj'eco1'
very near the truth, and expressed in so few figures,
has preserved the name of its author. diameter
3c. The next author, whose labours claim our atten-andcircum-
tion, is the illustrious Descartes. We do not allude to ference of a
those wild and ingenious speculations by which thisc^rc^e'
philosopher endeavoured to explain the celestial pheno-®.lsc(rveries
mena; but to these great discoveries with which he en-
riched the kindred sciences of algebra and geometry, aig^ra.
He introduced the present method of marking the born 1596.
powers of any quantity by numerical exponents. He Dial
first explained the use of negative roots in equations,
and showed that they are as real and useful as positive
roots, the only difference between them being founded
on the different manner in which the corresponding
quantities are considered. He pointed out the method
of finding the number of positive and negative roots in
any equation where the roots are real j and developed
the method of indeterminates which Vieta had obscure¬
ly hinted at.
31. Though Regiomontanus, Tartalea, andBombelli,
had resolved several geometrical problems by means oi
algebra, yet the general method of applying geometry
to algebra was first given by Vieta. It is to Descartes, He exteJKis
however, that we arc indebted for the beautiful and ex- the applica^
tensive use which he made ol Ins discovery. His me- rion ot ul-
thod of representing the nature of curve lines by equa-gj^®
tions, and of arranging them in different orders accord-
ing to the equations which distinguished them, opened
a vast field of inquiry to subsequent mathematicians j
and his methods of constructing curves of double cur¬
vature, and of drawing tangents to curve lines, have
contributed much to the progress of geometry. The
inverse method of tangents, which it was reserved for
the fluxionary calculus to bring to perfection, oi’iginated
at this time in a problem which Florimundus de Beaune
proposed to Descartes. It was required to construct
curve in which the ratio of the ordinate and subtangent
should be the same as that of a given line to the por¬
tion of the ordinate included between the curve and a
line inclined at a given angle. Hie curve was con¬
structed by Descartes, and several ol its properties de¬
tected, but he was unable to accomplish the complete^ j)< 165S*
solution of the problem. These discoveries of Descartes
were studied and improved by his successors, among,
whom
6
MATHEMATICS.
whom wc may number the celebrated Hudde, who
published in Schooten’s commentary on the geometry of
Descartes, an excellent method of determining if an
equation of any order contains several equal roots, and
of discovering the roots which it contains.
Disco- 32. The celebrated Pascal, who was equally distin-
veries of guished by his literary and his scientific acquirements,
BoiiTiA extended the boundaries of analysis by the invention of
Died 1662 l'is arithmetical triangle. By means of arbitrary num¬
bers placed at the vertex of the triangle, he forms all
the figurate numbers in succession, and determines the
ratio between the numbers of any two cases, and the va¬
rious sums resulting from the addition of all the numbers
of one rank taken in any possible direction. This in¬
genious invention gave rise to the calculation of proba¬
bilities in the theory of games of chance, and formed
the foundation of an excellent treatise of Huygens, en¬
titled De Ratiociniis in Ludo Aka', published in 1657.
Disco- 33* Several curious properties of numbers were at the
veries of same time discovered by Fermat at Toulouse. In the
1’erniat. theory of prime numbers, particularly, which had first
Died 166° been considered by Eratosthenes, Fermat made great
' discoveries; and in the doctrine of indeterminate pro¬
blems, he seems to have been deeply versed, having re¬
published the arithmetic of Diophantus, and enriched it
with many valuable notes of his own. He invented
the method of discovering the maxima and minima of
variable quantities, which serves to determine the tan¬
gents of geometrical curves, and paved the way for the
invention of the lluxionary calculus.
Cavaleri’s 34. Another step towards the discovery of fluxions
method of ■was at this time made by Cavaleri in his geometry of
indivisibles, indivisibles. In this work, which was published in 1635,
its author supposes every plane surface to consist of an
infinite number of planes; and he lays it down as an
axiom, that these infinite sums of lines and surfaces have
the same ratio when compared with the unit in each
case as the superficies and solids to be measured. This
ingenious method was employed by Cavaleri in the
quadrature of the conic sections, and in the curvature of
solids generated by their revolution ; and in order to
prove the accuracy of his theory, he deduced the same
results from different principles.
The same 35. Problems of a similar kind had been solved by
cussed^3* ^ermat an(l Descartes, and now occupied the attention
itoberval. R°berval. The latter of these mathematicians began
1634. his investigation of this subject about a year before the
publication of Cavaleri’s work, and the methods which
both of them employed were so far the same as to be
founded on the principles of indivisibles. In the mode,
however, which Iloberval adopted, planes and solids
were considered as composed of an infinite number of
rectangles, whose altitudes and the thickness of their
sections were infinitely small.—By means of this method,
Jioberval determined the area of the cycloid, the cen¬
tre of gravity of this area, and the solids formed by its
revolution on its axis and base. He also invented a
general method for tangents, similar in metaphysical
principles to that of fluxions, and applicable both to
mechanical and geometrical curves. By means of this,
he determined the tangents of the cycloid \ but there
were some curves which resisted its application. Con¬
sidering every curve to be generated by the motion of a
point, Iloberval regarded this point as acted upon at
every instant with two velocities ascertained from the
I
nature of the curve. He constructed a parallelogram
having its sides in the same ratio as the two velocities j
and he assumes as a principle, that the direction of the
tangent must fall on the diagonal, the position of which
being ascertained, gives the position of the tangent.
36. In 1644, solutions of the cycloidal problems for-Labours of
merly resolved by Boberval were published by Torricelli Torricelli
as invented by himself. The demonstrations of Roberval 1<s44-
had been transmitted to Galileo the preceptor of Torri¬
celli, and had also been published in 1637 in Mersen-
nus’s Universal Harmony. The Italian philosopher was
consequently accused of plagiarism by Roberval, and
the charge so deeply affected his mind as to bring him
prematurely to the grave. It is obvious, however,
from the demonstrations of Torricelli, that he had never
seen those of Roberval, and that he was far from merit¬
ing that cruel accusation which deprived science of one
of its brightest ornaments.
37. The cycloid having attracted the notice of geo-Farther
meters from the number and singularity of its properties, discoveriei
the celebrated Pascal proposed to them a variety of newof Pascal*
problems relative to this curve, and offered prizes for I<55S‘
their solution. These problems required the area of any
cycloidal segment, the centre of gravity of that segment,
the solids, and the centres of gravity of the solids, which
are generated either by a whole revolution, a half or a
quarter of a revolution of this segment round an abscissa
or an ordinate. The resolution of these problems was
attempted by Huygens, Sluze, Sir Christopher Wren,
Fermat, and Roberval. Sluze discovered an ingenious
method of finding the area of the curve. Huygens
squared the segment comprised between the vertex, and
as far as a fourth of the diameter of the generating
circle j and Sir Christopher Wren ascertained the length
of the cycloidal arc included between the vertex and
the ordinate, the centre of gravity of this arc, and the
surfaces of the solids generated during its revolution.
These attempts were not considered by their authors as
solutions of Pascal’s problems, and therefore they did
not lay claim to his prize. Our countryman Wallis,
however, and Lallouere a Jesuit, gave in a solution of
all the problems, and thought themselves entitled to
the proffered reward. In the methods employed by
these mathematicians, Pascal detected several sources
of error j and it was reserved lor that great genius to
furnish a complete solution of his own problems. Ex¬
tending his investigations to curtate and prolate cycloids,
he proved that the length of these curves depends on
the rectification of the ellipse, and assigned in each case
the axis of the ellipse. I rom this method he deduced
this curious theorem, that if two cycloids, the one curtate
and the other prolate, be such, that the base of the one
is equal to the circumference of the circle by which the
other is generated, the length of these two cycloids will
be equal.
. 38* While these discoveries were making on the con-Labours of
tinent, the iriends of science in Britain were actively Wallis,
employed in promoting its advancement. In 1655,1655.
M allis published his Anihmetica Infinitoram, a work of
great genius. He attempted to determine by the sum¬
mation of infinite series, the quadrature of curves, andl6S,
the curvature of solids, subjects which were afterwards ’ '
investigated in a different manner by Ishmael Bullial-
dus. By Wallis’s method, curves were squared when >
their ordinates are expressed by one term, and when
their
7
MATHEMATICS.
their ordinates were complex quantities raised to en¬
tire and positive powers, these ordinates were resolved
into series, of which each term is a monomial. Wallis
attempted to extend his theory to curves whose ordi¬
nates were complex and radical, by attempting to in¬
terpolate the series of the former kind with a new se¬
ries j but he was unsuccessful.
discoveries 39. It was left to Newton toremove this difficulty. He
t' Newton. golved the problem in a more direct and simple manner
by the aid of his new formula for expanding into an in¬
finite series any power of a binomial, whether its exponent
was positive or negative, an integer or a fraction. Al¬
gebra is also indebted to this illustrious mathematician
for a simple and extensive method of resolving an equa¬
tion into commensurable factors j foramethod of summing
up the powers of the roots of an equation, of extracting
the roots of quantities partly commensurable, and partly
incommensurable, and of finding by approximation the
roots of literal and numerical equations of all orders.
,ord 40. About this time, William Lord Brouncker, in at-
trouncker tempting to demonstrate an expression of W allis on the
iscovers magnitude of the circle, discovered the theory ot con-
•aetionT* tinued fractions. When an irreducible fraction is ex¬
tern 1620. pressed by numbers too great and complicated to be
)ied 1684. easily employed by the analyst, the method of Lord
Brouncker enables us to substitute an expression much
more simple and nearly equivalent. This theory,
which enables us to find a very accurate relation be¬
tween the diameter and circumference of the circle,
f Qpera was employed by Huygens * in the calculation of his
^ostkuma, planetary automaton, for representing the motions of
om. ii. sub the solar system, and was enlarged and improved by
'nem. other celebrated geometers. Lord Brouncker had like¬
wise the merit of discovering an infinite series to repre¬
sent the area of the hyperbola. The same discovery
was made by Nicholas Mercator, who published it in
his Logarit/wiotec/inia in 1668.
Labours of 41 • The subject of infinite series received considerable
Tames Gre- addition from Mr James Gregory. He was the first who
i'Ol'y. gave the tangent and secant in terms of the arc, and,
inversely, the arc in terms of the tangent and secant.
He constructed series for finding directly the logarithm
of the tangent and secant from the value of the arc, and
the logarithm of the arc from that of the tangent and
secant j and he applied this theory of infinite series to
the rectification of the ellipsis and hyperbola.
Labours of 42. The differential triangle invented by the learned
Or Barrow. J)r Barrow, for drawing tangents to curves, may be re¬
garded as another contribution towards the invention of
fluxions. This triangle has for its sides the element of
the curve and those of the absciss and ordinate, and
those sides are treated as quantities infinitely small.
Theory of 43. The doctrine of evolutes had been slightly touched
:volutesdis-upon by Apollonius. It remained, however, for the
covered by illustrious Huygens to bring it to perfection. His
I0'£^ens’ theory of evolutes is contained in his Horologium Oscil-
latorium, published in 1673, and may be regarded as
one of the finest discoveries in geometry. When any
curve is given, Huygens has pointed out the method of
constructing a second curve, by drawing a series of per¬
pendiculars to the first, which are tangents to the se¬
cond ; and of finding the first curve from the second.
From this principle he deduces several theorems on the
rectification of curves j and that remarkable property
of the cycloid, in which an equal and similar cycloitf is
produced by evolution.
4 4. In contemplating the progress of analysis from History of
the beginning of the 17th century, to the invention ct tke<^st’ove*
fluxions, we cannot fail to perceive the principles oi jf^ous.
that calculus gradually unfolding themselves to view.
The human mind seemed to advance with rapidity to¬
wards that great discovery and it is by no means un¬
likely that it would soon have arrived at the doctrine of
fluxions, even if the superior genius of Newton had not
accelerated its progress. In Cavalerius’s Geometria
Indivisibilium, we perceive the germ of the infinitesi¬
mal calculus; and the method of Boberval for finding
the tangents of curves, bears a striking analogy to the
metaphysics of the fluxionary calculus. It was the
glory of Newton, however, to invent and illustrate the
method of fluxions; and the obscure hints which he re¬
ceived from preceding mathematicians, do not in the
least detract from the merit of our illustrious country¬
man.
45. On the claims of Leibnitz as a second inventor General re-
of fluxions, and the illiberal violence with which they marks on
have been urged by foreign mathematicians, wTe would the dispute
wish to speak with delicacy and moderation. Who that
can appreciate the discoveries of that celebrated mathe- an(j Leit-
matician, or is acquainted with that penetrating genius nitz.
which threw light on every department of human
knowledge, w'ould willingly stain his memory with an
ungracious imputation ? The accusation of plagiarism
is one of those charges which it is difficult either to
substantiate or repel, and when directed against a great
man, ought never, without the clearest evidence, to be
wantonly" preferred or willingly received. If charitable
sentiments are ever to be entertained towards others,—
to what class of beings should they be more cheerfully
extended than to those who have been the ornaments of
human nature ? If society has agreed to regard as sa¬
cred the failings and excentricitics of genius,—when
ought that reverence to be more strongly excited than
wdien we are passing judgment on its mightiest eftorts ?
Inquiries into the motives and actions of the learned
ought never to be wantonly indulged. When the ho¬
nour of our country, or the character of an individual,
requires such an investigation, a regard to truth, and
a contempt of national prejudice, should guide the in¬
quiry.—We should proceed with delicacy and forbear¬
ance.—We should tread lightly even on the ashes of
genius. It is not uncommon to witness the indulgence
of malicious pleasure, in detracting from the merits of a
distinguished character. The assailant raises himself
for a while to the level of his enemy, and acquires
glory by his fall. But let him remember that the lau¬
rels thus won cannot flourish long. The same public
opinion which conferred them will tear them from his
brow, and consign the accuser to that infamy from
which the brightest abilities Avill be insufficient to raise
him. The consequences of such conduct have been
seen in the fall of Torricelli;, It was the charges of
plagiarism, preferred by Roberval, that hurried this
young and accomplished philosopher to an early
grave.
46. We have been led into these observations by study¬
ing the dispute between the followers of Newton and
Leibnitz. The claims of the British,as well as those of'
the
MATHEMATICS.
S
the foreign mathematicians, have undoubtedly been too
high j and victory rather than truth seems to have been
the object of contest. Even the name of Newton has
n6t escaped from serious imputations. The immensity
of the stake for which the different parties contended,
may perhaps justify the commencement of the dispute j
and the brilliancy of the talents that were called into
action, may leave us no cause to regret its continuance :
But nothing can reconcile us to those personal animosi¬
ties in which the good sense and temper of philosophy
are lost, and that violence of literary warfare where sci¬
ence can gain nothing in the combat.—In giving an
account, therefore, of that interesting dispute, we shall
merely give a brief view of the facts that relate to the
discovery of the higher calculus, and make a few ob¬
servations on the conclusions to which they lead.
Xewton 47- 1° the year 1669, a paper of Sir Isaac Newton’s,
publishes entitled Lie analysi per equationes numero term: nor inn
a tract con- injinitas, was communicated by Dr Barrow to MrCol-
^rincMesofli”8, 0ne ^ie secretaries of the Royal Society. In
flexions. this paper the author points out a new method of squar¬
ing curves, both when the ^expression of the -ordinate is
a rational quantity, and when it contains complex ra¬
dicals, by evolving the expression of the ordinate into
an infinite number of simple terms by means of the bino¬
mial theorem. In a letter from Newton to Collins,
dated December 10. 1672, there is contained a method
of drawing tangents to curve lines, without being ob¬
structed by radicals $ and in both these woi*ks, an ac¬
count of which was circulated on the continent by the
secretaries of the Royal Society, the principles of the
fluxional calculus are plainly exhibited ; and it is the
opinion of all the disputants, that those works at least
prove, that Newton must have been acquainted with
the method of fluxions when he composed them.
48. Leibnitz came to London in 1673, and though
there is no direct evidence that he saw Newton’s paper
De Analysi per Equationcs, &c. yet it is certain that he
had seen Sir Isaac’s letter to Collins of 1672 ; and it is
highly improbable that such a man as Leibnitz should
have been ignorant of a paper of Newton’s which had
been four years in the possession of the public, and
which contained discussions at that time irtteresting fro
every mathematician.
X orresnon 49' ^ ^c^er from Newton to Oldenburg, one of the
deuce be- secretaries of the Royal Society, dated October 24.
tween 1676, was communicated’ to Leibnitz. This letter
-Leibnitz contains several theorems without the demonstrations,
w^'ch are founded on the method of fluxions, and
merely states that they result from the solution of a
general problem. The enunciation of this problem he
expresses in a cypher, the meaning of which wras, An
equation containing any number of flowing quantities
being given, to find the fluxions, and inversely. In re¬
ply to this communication, Leibnitz transmitted a let¬
ter to Oldenburg, dated June 21. 1677, where he ex¬
plains the nature of the differential calculus, and af¬
firms, that he had long employed it for draxving tan¬
gents to curve lines.
-'Leibnitz 5C* The correspondence between Leibnitz and 01-
publishes denburg having been broken oft’ by the death of the
»a account latter, Leibnitz published in the Acta Eradit. Lips, for
of the diffe-October 1684, the principles of the new analysis, under
sential cal-t]ie title of Nova Methodus pro maximis et minimis^
itemque tangentibus, qiue nec fractas, ncc irrationalcs
quantitates moratvr, et stngulare pro illis calculus?
This paper contains the method of differencing simple,
fractional, and radical quantities, and the applications
of the calculus to the solution of some physical and geo¬
metrical problems. In 1685, he likewise published two
small pamphlets on the quadrature of curves, contain¬
ing the principles of the Calculus Summatorius, or the
Inverse Method of Fluxions ; and in 1686 there appear¬
ed another tract by the same author, On the Recon¬
dite Geometry, and the Analysis of Indivisibles and In¬
finites, containing the fundamental rule of the integral
calculus.
51. Towards the close of the year 1686, Sir Isaac Newton
Newton gave to the world his illustrious work entitled publishes
Philosophiee Natnralis Erin Apia Mathematica. Some ”hs-a1Ui~
of the most difficult problems in this work are founded
on the fluxional calculus ; and it is allowed by Bossut,
one of the defenders of Leibnitz, “ that mathematicians
did Newton the justice to acknowledge, that at the
period when his Principia was published, he was master
of the method of fluxions to a high degree, at least with
respect to that part which concerns the quadrature of
curves.” The claim of Leibnitz, as a separate inventor
of the differential calculus, is evidently allowed by-
Newton himself, when he observes, that Leibnitz had
communicated to him a method similar to his own for
drawing tangents, &c. and differing from it only in the
enunciation and notation.
52. About this time, it became fashionable among j
geometers to perplex each other by the proposal of new proposes
and difficult problems, a practice which powerfully the Pr°-
contributed to the progress of mathematics. The dis-^1®"^®^®
pute in which Leibnitz Was engaged with the Carte- curve.
sians respecting the measure of active forces, which the
former supposed to be as the simple velocity, while the
latter asserted, that they were as the square of the velo¬
city, led him to propose the problem of the isochronous
Curve, or “ to find the curve which a heavy body must
describe equally, in order to approach or recede from
a horizontal plane in equal times.” This curve was
found by Huygens to be the second cubic parabola 5 ^
but he gave only its properties and construction without ^
the demonstrations. The same solution, along with the idSy?
demonstration, was given by Leibnitz in 1689, who,
at the same time, proposed to geometers to find the
paracentric isochronal curve, or the curve in -which a
body would equally approach or recede from a given
point in equal times.
S3- If was at fids time that the two brothers, James James Ber-
and John Bernouilli, began to display those talents from nouilli also
which the physical and mathematical sciences received !md£tiie
such immense improvements. James was born in 1654,1csarcvc10n°,1S
and died in 1705 ; and John, who was his pupil, vvas
born in 1667, and lived to the advanced age of 68
years. In 1690, Janies Bernouilli gave the same so¬
lution of the isochronous curve that had been given by
Huygens and Leibnitz 5 and proposed the celebrated
problem of the catenary curve, which had formerly
perplexed the ingenuity of Galileo. In two memoirs, ifyT.
published in 1691, he determined, by means of the in- Solution of
verse method of fluxions, the tangents of the parabolic the problem
spiral, the logarithmic spiral, and the loxcdromic curve,of t,,e cate"
and likewise the quadratures of their areas. narian
54. The problem of the catenary curve having occupied other’ana-
thc attention of geometers, tvas resolved by Huygens, Wous piv-
Leibnitz, blems.
9
MATHEMATICS.
Leibnitz, and John Bernoulli!. In these solutions,
however, the gravity of the catenary curve was suppo¬
sed to be uniform j but James Bernouilli extended the’
solution to cases where the weight of the curve varies
frvn one point to another, according to a given law.
From this problem he was also conducted to the deter¬
mination of the curvature of a bended bow, and that of
an elastic bar fixed at one extremity, and loaded at the
other with a given weight. In the hopes of contribut¬
ing to the progress of navigation, the same mathemati¬
cian considered the form of-a sail swoln with the wind.
TV hen the wind, after striking the sail, is not prevented
froth escaping, the curvature of the sail is that of the
common catenarian curve 5 but when the sail is suppo¬
sed perfectly flexible, and filled with a fluid pressing
downwards on itself, as water presses on the sides of a
vessel, the curve which it forms is one of those denomi¬
nated tin tear ice, which is expressed by the same equation
as the common elastic curve, where the extensions are
reckoned proportional to the forces applied at each point.
—The same problem was solved in the Journal des
Sipavans for 1692, by John Bernouilli j but there is
satisfactory evidence that it was chiefly borrowed from
his brother James.
r amours 0n 55- Hie attention of James Bernouilli was now direc-
taraes BeiAcd to the theory of curves produced by the revolution of
louilli. one curve upon another. He considers one curve rolling
i6p2. upon a-given curve, equal to the first, and immoveable.
He determines the evolute and the caustic of the epicy¬
cloid, described by a point of the moving circle, and be
deduces from it other two curves, denominated the anti-
evolute and pericaustic. He found also that the loga¬
rithmic spiral was its own evolute, caustic, antievolute,
and pericaustic 5 -and that an analogous property ^be¬
longed to the cycloid.
r 56. About this time Viviani, an Italian geometer,
distinguished as the restorer of Aristeus’s conic sections,
Problem of require^ the solution of the following problem, that
Viviani there existed a temple of a hemispherical form, pierced
solved. with four equal windows, with such skill that the re¬
mainder of the hemisphere might be perfectly squared.
With the aid of the new analysis, Leibnitz and James
Bernouilli immediately found a solution, while that of
Viviani was founded on the ancient geometry. He
proved that the problem might be solved, by placing,
parallel to the base of the hemisphere, trvo right cylin¬
ders, the axes of which should pass through the centres
of two radii, forming a diameter of the circle of the
base, and piercing the dome each way.
Tschirn , 57. Prior to some of these discussions, the curves call-
hausen on ed caustic, and sometimes Tschirnhausenian, were dis-
|caiisiic covered by Tschirnhausen. These curves are formed by
jurves. the crossing of the rays of light, when reflected from a
curved surface, or refracted‘through a lens so as not to
Times Ber meet a sing^e P°int‘ With the assistance of the com-
nouilli at- ”mon geometry, Tschirnhausen discovered that they are
tends to the equal to straight lines when they are formed by geo-
same sub- metrical curves, and found out several other curious
|ect’ properties. By the aid of the higher calculus, James
I(j5, Bernouilli extended these researches, and added greatly
to the theory of caustics produced by refraction,
md solves 58. The problem of the paracentric isochronal curve,
he pro: proposed by Leibnitz in 1689, was solved by James
laracentric Bernouilli, who took for ordinates parallel straight lines,
soclironal and for abscissas the chords of an infinite number of
e, . <Yol. XIIL Part I. 1
concentric circles described about the given point. In
this way he obtained a separate equation, constructed at
first by the rectification of the elastic curve, and after¬
wards by the rectification of an algebraic curve. The 1689.
same problem was solved by John JBernouilli and Leib¬
nitz.
59. In 1694, a branch of the new analysis, called the The expo-
exponential calculus, was invented separately by John cal-
Bernouilli arid Leibnitz. It consists in differencing and vcnt,.(] |,y.
integrating exponential quantities or pow ers with varia- Leibnitz
ble exponents. To Leibnitz, the priority in point of and John
invention certainly belongs; but John Bernouilli rvas^eruoudh-
the first who published the rules and uses of the cal¬
culus.
60. The marquis 1’Hospital, who, in 1695, had solved The Mar-
the problem about the curve of equilibration in draw- T1*8 ^
bridges, and shewn it to be an epicycloid, published in ijs]1cs y *
the following year his Analysis of Infinites for the analysis of
der standing of curve lines. In this celebrated work, infinites,
the differential calculus, or the direct method of fluxions,
was fully explained and illustrated; and as the know¬
ledge of the higher geometry had been hitherto con¬
fined to a few, it wras nowr destined to enlighten the dif¬
ferent nations of Europe.
61. The methods which w ere employed by Descartes, Newton
Fermat, &c. for finding the maxima and minima
quantities, yielded in point of simplicity and generality jeas>t re_
to that which was derived from the doctrine of fluxions, sistance.
Another class of problems, however, of the same kind,
hut more complicated, from their requiring the inverse
method of fluxions, began now to exercise the ingenuity
of mathematicians. A problem of this class for finding
the solid of least resistance, was solved by Newton in
the 34th proposition of the 2d book of his Principle.
After having determined the truncated right cone,
which being moved in a fluid by the smallest base
(which is unknown,) experiences the least resistance, he
gave without arfy demonstration the ratio from which
might be derived the diflerential equation of the curve
that generates by a revolution of its axis the solid of
least resistance. A general solution, however, was
still wanting, till the attention of-geometers was di¬
rected to the subject by John Bernouilli, wTho propo¬
sed, in 1697, the celebrated problem of the JBrachy-
stochronon, or the curve along the concave side ol
which if a heavy body descend, it wrill pass in the least
time possible from one point to another, the two points
not being in the same vertical line. This problem was
resolved by Leibnitz, Newton, the marquis de PHospi-
tal, and James Bernouilli, who demonstrated that the
curve of quickest descent is a cycloid reversed. 'I his
result will appear at first surprising, when we consider
a line to be the shortest distance between two points;
but the surprise will cease when we reflect, that in a
concave curve lying between the two given points the
moving body descends at first in a more vertical direc¬
tion, and therefore acquires a greater velocity than
when it rolls down an inclined plane. This addition to
its velocity, consequently, at the commencement ol its
path may balance the increase of space through which Dispute be¬
lt has to move. tween
62. At the close of this discussion, commenced that James and
celebrated dispute about isoperimetrical problems,_ be-^^.” .
tween James and John Bernouilli, in which the qualities;SOperime-
of the head were more conspicuous than those ot thstrical fi-
B t heart, gures.
JO
MATHEMATICS.
lie art. These illustrious characters, connected by the
strongest ties of affinity, were, at the commencement of
their distinguished career, united by the warmest affec¬
tion. John was initiated by his elder brother into the
mathematical sciences } and a generous emulation, soft¬
ened by friendship in the one, and gratitude in the
other, continued for some years to direct their studies,
and accelerate their progress. There are few men,
however, who can support at the same time the charac¬
ter of a rival and a friend. The success of the one
party is apt to awaken the envy of the other, and suc¬
cess itself is often the parent of presumption. A foun¬
dation is thus laid for future dissension; and it is a me¬
lancholy fact in the history of learning, that the most
ardent friendships have been sacrificed on the altar of
literary ambition. Such was the case between the two
16^5. Bernouillis. As soon as John was settled as professor
of mathematics at Groningen, all friendly intercourse
between the two brothers was at an end. Regarding
John as the aggressor, and provoked at the ingratitude
which he exhibited, his brother James challenged him
Problems by name to solve the following problems : 1. “To find,
proposed by among all the isoperimetrxeal curves between given li-
James to mits, such a curve, that, constructing a second curve,
nouPli t1- the ordinates of which shall be the functions of the or¬
dinates or arcs of the former, the area of the second
curve shall be a maximum or a minimum.—2. “ To
find among all the cycloids which a heavy body may
describe in its descent from a point to a line, the posi¬
tion of which is given, that cycloid which is described
in the least possible time.”—A prize of 50 florins wras
promised to John Bernouilli, if, within three months,
he engaged to solve these problems, and publish within
a year legitimate solutions of them.
63. In a short time John Bernouilli produced his solu¬
tion and demanded the prize. He succeeded in construc¬
ting the problem of swiftest descent; but his solution of
the other problem was radically defective. This failure
mortified that vanity with which he gloried in his ap¬
parent success. He acknowledged the mistake in his
solution, and, with the same imperious tone, transmit¬
ted a new result, and redemanded the prize. This
new solution, which wras still defective, drew down the
wit and ridicule of James Bernouilli, which his bro¬
ther attempted to repel by a torrent of coarse invec¬
tive.
1700. 64. Leibnitz, Newrton, and the marquis I’Hospital,
being appointed arbiters in this dispute, James Bernouil¬
li published, in 1700, the formulae of the isoperimetri-
cal problem, without any demonstration > and John
transmitted his solution to the French academy in Fe¬
bruary 1701, on condition that it should not be opened
till his brother’s demonstrations were published. In con¬
sequence of this, James Bernouilli published his solu¬
tion in May 1701, in the Acta Eruditorum, under the
following title, Analysis magni Problcmatis Isoperime-
trici, and gained great honour from the skill which it
displayed. For five years John Bernouilli was silent
upon the subject j but his brother dying in 1705, he
published his solution in the Memoirs of the Academy
ior 1706. About 13 years afterwards, John Bernouilli
having perceived the source of his error, confessed his
mistake, and published a new solution, not very differ¬
ent from that of his brother, in the Memoirs of the
Academy for 1718.
65. In the problem relative to the cycloid of swiftest
descent, John Bernouilli obtained a result similar to that
of his brother, by a very ingenious method, which ex- dolm Por¬
tended the bounds of the new analysis. In his investi-
gations he employed the synchronous curve, or that t}K, SCCOJ)j
which cuts a series of similar curves placed in similar problem,
positions, so that the arcs of the latter included between
a given point and the synchronous curve, shall be de- 1704.
scribed by a heavy body in equal times. He demon¬
strated, that of all the cycloids thus intersected, that
which is cut perpendicularly is described in less time
than any other terminating equally at the synchronous
curve. But being unable to give a general solution of
the problem, he applied to Leibnitz, who easily resolved
it, and at that time invented the method of differencing
de curva in cur vain.
66. About a month after the death of the marquis dc
I’Hospital, John Bernouilli declared himself the author
of a rule given by the marquis in his Analysis of Infinites,
for finding the value of a fraction, whose numerator
and denominator should vanish at the same instant, w hen
the variable quantity that enters into it has a certain
given value. The defence made by the marquis’s
friends only induced John Bernouilli to make greater
demands, till he claimed as his own the most important
parts of the Analysis of Infinites : But it does not ap¬
pear, from an examination of the subject, that there is
any foundation for his claims.
67. Towards the close of 1704, Sir Isaac Newton pub¬
lished, at the end of his Optics, his Enumeratio linea-
rum tertioz or dims, and his treatise De Quadratura Cur- ^
varum. The first of these papers displays great abili- C'V °
ty ; but is founded only on the common algebra, and
the doctrine of series which Newton had brought to
such perfection. His treatise, De Quadratura Cur-
varum, contains the resolution of fluxional formula;,
with one variable quantity which leads to the qua¬
drature of curves. By means of certain series he ob¬
tains the resolution of several complicated formula;, by
referring them to such as are more simple } and these
series being interrupted in particular cases, give the flu¬
ents in finite terms. From this several interesting pro¬
positions are deduced, among which is the method of
resolving rational fractions. In 1711 Newton publish¬
ed his Method of Fluxions. The object of this wrork is 171 r.
to determine, by simple algebra, the linear coefficients
of an equation that satisfies as many conditions as there
are coefficients, and to construct a curve of the parabo¬
lic kind passing through any number of given points.
Hence arises a simple method of finding the approxi¬
mate quadrature of curves, in which a certain number
of ordinates are determinable. It has been the opinion
of some able mathematicians, that this treatise contains
the first principles of the integral calculus with finite
diffei ences, afterwards invented by Hr Taylor. A.
posthumous work of Newton’s, entitled The Method of^^
Fluxions, and of Infinite Series, was published by Hr
Pemberton about nine years after the death of its au-
tnoi } but it does not contain any new investigations
w hich accelerated the progress of the newr analysis.
68. The mathematical sciences were at this time in-l^abours of
debted to the labours of Manfredi, Parent, and Saurin. Manfredi,
The former ol these geometers published a very able and
work, He ConstructioneEquationum differentialiumpi i- Saunn>
mi gradus. lo Parent we are indebted for the problem1'
bY
II
by which we obtain the ratio between the velocity of the
power and the weight, for finding the maximitfn effect
of machines} but his reputation was much injured by
the obscurity of his writings. Saurin was celebrated for
his theoretical and practical knowledge of watchmaking-,
and was the first who elucidated the theory of tangents
to the multiple points of curves.
Account of 69. While the science of analysis was thus advancing
the dispute rapidity, the dispute between Newton and Leib-
Vevvton 11 it7. began to be agitated among the mathematicians of
and Leib- Europe. These illustrious rivals seemed to have been
nitz. hitherto contented with sharing the honour of having in¬
vented the fluxional calculus. But as soon as the prio¬
rity of invention was attributed to Newton, the friends
of Leibnitz, came forward with eagerness to support the
claims of their master.
Facio de 70. In a small work on the curve of swiftest descent,
ll‘ier and the solid of least resistance, published in 1699, Ni-
tlic'disnuu;8 cholas Facio de Duiilier, an eminent Genoese, attribu-
ia favour of ted to Newton the first invention of Fluxions, and hint-
Newton. ed, that Leibnitz, as the second inventor, had bornnv-
j ed from the English philosopher. Exasperated at this
defends improper insinuation, Leibnitz came forward in his own
himself. defence, and appeals to the admission of Newton in his
Principia, that neither had borrowed from the other.
He expressed bis conviction, that Eacio de Duiilier wras
not authorised by Sir Isaac, to prefer such a charge,
and threw himself upon the testimony and candour of
the English geometer.
Dr Keill 71* The discussion rested in this situation for several
makes the years, till our celebrated countryman, Dr Keill, insti-
samecharge gated by an attack upon Newton in the Leipsic Jour-
JLdbnitz na^ rePeatet^ the same charge against Leibnitz. The
1y0g ' German philosopher made the same reply as he did to
his former opponent, and treated Dr Keill as a young
man incapable of judging upon the subject. In 1711,
171 r. Dr Keill addressed a letter to Sir Hans Sloane, secre¬
tary to the Royal Society, and accused Leibnitz of ha¬
ving adopted the differential notation, in order to have
it believed that he did not borrow his calculus from the
writings of Newton.
Leibnitz 7 2. Leibnitz was with reason irritated at this accusation,
the Royal am^ called upon the Royal Society to interfere in his
Society. behalf. A committee of that learned body was accord¬
ingly appointed to investigate the subject, and their re-
1712. port was published in 1712, under the title of Commer-
cium Ppistolicum de Analyst pro?nota. In this report the
Who ap- committee maintain that Leibnitz was not the first in-
pomt a ventor, and absolve Dr Keill from all blame in giving the
committee ,fr]orjfy ()f invention to Newton. They were cautious,
ind report, however, m stating their opinion upon that part ot the
charge in which Leibnitz tvas accused of plagiarism.
John Ber- 73. In answer to the arguments advanced in the Com-
nouilli re- mercium Epistolicum, John Bernouilli, the particular
their report ^1'en(^ of Leibnitz, published a letter, in which he has the
given in the assurance state, that the method of fluxions did not
Cwnmer- precede the differential calculus, but that it might have
eium Epis- taken its rise from it. The reason which he assigns
o.icum. for this strange assertion is, that the differential calcu¬
lus was published before Newton had introduced an
uniform algorithm into the method of fluxions. But it
may as well be maintained that Newton did not dis¬
cover the theory of universal gravitation, because the
attractive force of mountains and of smaller portions of
matter was not ascertained till the time of Mask dyne
and Cavendish. The principles of fluxions are allowed
to have been discovered before those of the differential
calculus, and yet the former originated from the latter,
because the fluxional notation was not given at the same
time !
74. Notwithstanding the ridiculous assertion of JohnRemarkgon
Bernouilli, it has been admitted by all the foreign ma- t-lc eontro'
thematicians that Newton was the first inventor of the vels)-
method of fluxions. The point at issue therefore is
merely this :—did Leibnitz see any of the writings of
Newton that contained the principles of fluxions before
he published in 1684 his Nova Met/iodus pro maximis et
minimis ? The friends of Leibnitz have adduced some
presumptive proofs that he had never seen the treatise
of Newton de Analysis nor the letter to Collins, in
both of which the principles of the new calculus were
to be found 5 and in order to strengthen their argument,
they have not scrupled to assert, that the writings al¬
ready mentioned contained but a vague and obscure
indication of the method of fluxions, and that Leibnitz,
might have perused them without having discovered it.
This subsidiary, argument, however, rests upon the opi¬
nion of individuals $ and the only way of repelling it is
to give the opinion of an impartial judge. M . Montu-
cla, the celebrated historian of the mathematics, who
being a Frenchman, cannot be suspected of partiality
to the English, has admitted that Newton in his trea¬
tise de Analysi “ has disclosed in a very concise and
obscure manner his principles of fluxions,” and “ that
the suspicion of Leibnitz having seen this work is not
destitute of probability, for Leibnitz admitted, that in
his interview with Collins he had seen a part of the
epistolary correspondence between Newton and that
gentleman.” It is evident therefore that Leibnitz had
opportunities of being acquainted with the doctrine of
fluxions, before he had thought of the differential cal¬
culus 5 and as he was in London, where Newton’s trea¬
tise was published, and in company with the very men
to whom the new analysis had been communicated, it is
very likely that he then acquired some knowledge of the
subject. In favour of Leibnitz, however, it is but jus¬
tice to say, that the transition from the method of tan¬
gents by Dr Barrow to the differential calculus is so
simple, that Leibnitz might very easily have perceived
it ; and that the notation of his analysis, the numerous
applications which he made of it, and the perfection to
which he carried the integral calculus, are considerable
proofs that he was innocent of the charge which the
English have attempted to fix upon his memory.
75. In 1708, Remond de Montmort published a cu-Works ow
rious work, entitled the Analysis of Games of Chance, the doc-
in which the common algebra was applied to the coni-trine of
putation of probabilities, and the estimation of chances.chaace*
Though this work did not contain any great discovery, 70
yet it gave extent to the theory of series, and admir¬
ably illustrated the doctrine of combinations. The
same subject was afterwards discussed by M. de Moivre,
a French protestant residing in England, in a small
treatise entitled Mensura Sortis, in which are given the
elements of the theory of recurrent series, and some very 17 ri'
ingenious applications of it. Another edition was pub¬
lished in English in 1738, under the title of the Doctrine
of Chances.
B 2 A
12
MATHEMATICS.
Leibnitz 7^* short time before his death, Leibnitz proposed
proposes to to the English geometers the celebrated problem of or-
theEnglishthogonal trajectories, which was to find the curve that
blenf of CU*'S a ser^es given curves at a constant angle, or at
orthogonal an anSle varying according to a given law. This pro-
trajec- blem was put into the hands of Sir Isaac Newton when
tories. he returned to dinner greatly fatigued, and he brought
it to an equation before he went to rest. Leibnitz
being recently dead, John Bernouilii assumed his place,
and maintained, that nothing was easier than to bring
the problem to an equation, and that the solution of the
problem was not complete till the differential equation
of the trajectory was resolved. Nicholas Bernouilii,
the son of John, resolved the particular case in which
the intersected curves are hyperbolas with the same
centre and the same vertex. James Hermann and Ni¬
cholas Bernouilli, the nephew of John, treated the sub¬
ject by more general methods, which applied to the cases
in which the intersected curves were geometrical. The
most complete solution, however, was given by Hr
1717. Taylor in the Philosophical Transactions for 1717,
though it was not sufficiently general, and could not
apply to some cases capable of resolution. This defect
was supplied by John Bernouilii, who in the Leipsic
3718. Transactions for 1718, published a very simple solution,
embracing all the geometrical curves, and a great num¬
ber ol the mechanical ones.
Integration 77. During these discussions, several difficult problems
of rational 0n the integration of rational fractions were proposed by
fraction8. pr Taylor, and solved by John Bernouilii. This sub¬
ject, however, had been first discussed by Roger Cotes,
professor of mathematics at Cambridge, who died in
1710. In his posthumous work entitled Hannonia
Labours of Mensurarum, published in 1716, he gave general and
Itogcr convenient formula; for the integration of rational frac-
b°rn t'.°nS ancl we are bulebted to this young geometer for
his method of estimating errors in mixed mathematics,
for his remarks on the differential method of Newton,
and for his celebrated theorem for resolving certain
equations.
Dr Taylor 7^* I7I5> Taylor published his learned work
invents the entitled Methodus incrementorum dirccta et inversa.
integral In this work the doctor gives the name of increments
finite dif- °r decremen.ts of variable quantities to the differences,
ferences. whether finite or infinitely small, of two consecutive
terms in a series formed after a given law. When the
differences are infinitely small, their calculus belongs to
fluxions j but when they are finite, the method of find¬
ing their relation to the quantities by which they are
produced forms a new calculus, called the integral cal¬
culus of finite differences. In consequence of this
work, Dr Taylor was attacked anonymously by John
Bernouilii, who lavished upon the English geometer
all that dull abuse, and angry ridicule, which he had
formerly heaped upon his brother.
Problem of . 79- Phe problem of reciprocal trajectories was at this
reciprocal time proposed by the Bernouillis. J Ins problem re-
trajecto- quired the curves which, being constructed in two op-
posite directions in one axis, given in position, and then
moving parallel to one another with unequal velocities,
Resolved should perpetually intersect each other at a given angle,
by Euler, It was long discussed between John Bernouilii and an
born 1707, anonymous writer, who proved to be Dr Pemberton.
'vaS ^7 an elegant solution of this problem that
the celebrated Euler began to be distinguished amongr
w O
mathematicians. He was the pupil of John Bernouilii,
and continued through the whole of his life, the friend
and rival of his son Daniel. The great object of his
labours was to extend the boundaries of analysis 5 and
before he had reached his 21st year, he published a new
and general method of resolving differential equations
of the second order, subjected to certain conditions.
80. The common algebra had been applied by Leibnitz Labours of
and John Bernouilii to determine arcs of the parabola, ('0’int aS*
the difference of which is an algebraic quantity, ima - naiu‘
gining that such problems in the case of the ellipse and
hyperbola resisted the application of the new analysis.
The Count de Fagnani, however, applied the integral
calculus to the arcs of the ellipsis and hyperbola, and
had the honour of explaining this new branch of geo¬
metry.
81. In the various problems depending on the analysis Problem of
of infinites, the great difficulty is to resolve the differen-Count llic-
tial equation to which the problems are reduced. Countcat1-
James Riccati having been puzzled with a differential 1725.
equation of the first order, with two variable quantities,
proposed it to mathematicians in the Leipsic Acts for
1725. This question baffled the skill of the most cele¬
brated analysts, who were merely able to point out a
number of cases in which the indeterminate can be se¬
parated, and the equation resolved by the quadrature
of curves.
82. Another problem suggested by that of Viviani was Problem of
proposed in 1718 by Ernest Von Offenburg. It was re- Oflenburg;.
quired to pierce a hemispherical vault with any number
of elliptical windows, so that their circumferences
should be expressed by algebraic quantities ^ or in
other words, to determine on the surface of a sphere,,
curves algebraically rectifiable. In a paper on the rec¬
tification of spherical epicycloids, Herman * imagined * Peters-
that these curves were algebraically rectifiable, and burgh
therefore satisfied the question of Offenburg ; hut John Transact
Bernouilii (Mem. Acad. Par. 1732) demonstrated, that.^0”*’
as the rectification of these curves depended on the qua- 172 ~
drature of the hyperbola, they were only rectifiable inR<;solvedby
certain cases, and gave the general method of determin-Jo*\n .Ber'
ing the curves that are algebraically I'ectifiable on the nou^
surface of a sphere.
83. The same subject was also discussed by Nicole and Labours of
Clairaut, (Mem. Acad. 1734)* The latter of these Clmraut.
mathematicians had already acquired fame by his Re-
cherches sur les Qouvbcs a double Courbure^ published
in 1730, before he was 21 years of age ; but his repu¬
tation was extended by a method of finding curves
whose property consists in a certain relation between
these branches expressed by a given equation. In this
research, Clairaut pointed out a species of paradox in the
integral calculus, which led to the celebrated theory of
particular integrals which was afterwards fully illus¬
trated by Euler and other geometers.
84. Ihe celebrated problem of isochronous curves be- Problem of
gan at this time to be reagitated among mathematicians, isochronous
The object of this problem is to find such a curve that a curves-
heavy body descending along its concavity shall always
reach the lowest point in the same time, from what¬
ever point of the curve it begins to descend. Huygens
had already shewn that the cycloid was the isochronous
curve in vacuo. Newton had demonstrated the same
curve to be isochronous when the descending, hotly ex¬
periences from the air a resistance proportional to its ve¬
locity j.
*3
MATHEMATICS.
memoir's locity j anti T'lu 1 or ^ and Jolin Bcrnomlli i, had scpa-
f Peters- rately found tlie isochronous curve when the resistance
urgh, was as the square of the velocity, ihese three cases,
^MenT^ all(^ even a fourth in which the resistance was as the
'ar. 1730. square of the velocity added to the product of the velo¬
city by a constant coefficient, were all resolved by Fon-
olved by taine,'by means of an ingenious and original method 5
'ontaiue. ami ^ is very remarkable that the isochronous curve
is the same in the third and fourth cases.—The method
of Fontaine was illustrated by Euler, who solved a fifth
case, including all the other four, when the resistance is
composed of three terms, the square of the velocity, the
product of the velocity by a given coefficient, and a
constant quantity. He found also an expression of the
time which the body employs to descend through any
arc of the curve.
Llgebra of 85. The application of analytical formulae to the phy-
ines and sico-mathematical sciences was much facilitated by the
osmes. algebra of sines and cosines with which Frederick
Christian Mayer, and Euler, enriched geometry. By
the combination of arcs, sines, and cosines, formulae are
obtained which frequently yield to the method of reso¬
lution, and enable us to solve a number of problems
which the ordinary use of arcs, sines, and cosines, would
dal equa-
dons.
render tedious and complicated.
mprove- 86. About this time a great discovery in the theory
went in the of differential equations of the first order was made se-
•esolution parately by Euler, Fontaine, and Clairaut. Hitherto
difleren- geometers had no direct method of ascertaining if any
differential equation were resolvable in the state in
which it was presented, or if it required some prepara¬
tion prior to its resolution. For every differential equa¬
tion a particular method was employed, and their reso¬
lution was often effected by a kind of tentative process,
which displayed the ingenuity of its author, without be¬
ing applicable to other equations. The conditions un¬
der which differential equations of the first order are
resolvable ivere discovered bv the three mathematicians
whom we have mentioned. Euler made the discovery
in 1736, hut did not publish it till I740* Fontaine
and Clairaut lighted upon it in I739' Euler after¬
wards extended the discovery to equations of higher
orders.
87. The first traces of the integral calculus with par¬
tial differences appeared in a paper of Euler’s in the
Petersburgh Transactions for 1734 5 but d’Alembert,
in his work Sur les Vents, has given clearer notions of
it, and w^as the first who employed it in solution of the
problem of vibrating cords proposed by F)r Taylor, and
investigated by Euler and Daniel Bernouilli. The ob¬
ject of this calculus is to find a function of several vari¬
able quantities, when we have the relation of the coef¬
ficients which affect the differentials of the variable
quantities of which this function is composed. Euler
exhibited it in various points of view, and shewed its
application to a number of physical problems 5 and he
afterwards, in his paper entitled Investigatio Functio-
num ex- data Differentialium comlitione J, completely
explained the nature, and gave the algorithm of the
calculus.
. 88.-While the analysis of infinites was making such ra¬
pid progress on the continent, it w^as attacked in England
by the celebrated Dr Berkeley, bishop of Cloyne, in a
work called the Analyst,or a discourse addressed to ajiln-
Jldcl Mathematician, wherein it is examined whether the
Discover}'
oftbe inte
gral calcu¬
lus with
partial dif
lierences.
t Peters-
irirrgh
Transac¬
tions, 1762
The prin¬
ciples of
fluxions
attacked
hy Dr
llerkeley,
I734-
object, principles, and inferences of the modern analysis,,
are more distinctly conceived than Religious Mysteries
arid Points of Faith. In this work the doctor admits
the truth of the conclusions, hut maintains that the
principles of fluxions are not founded upon reasoning
strictly logical and conclusive. This attack called forth
Robins and Maclaurin. The former proved that the
principles of fluxions were consistent with the strictest
reasoning, while Maclaurin, in his Treatise of Fluxions,
gave a synthetical demonstration of the principles of the.
calculus after the manner of the ancient geometricians,
and establishes it with such clearness and satisfaction
that no intelligent man could refuse his assent. The
differential calculus had been attacked at an earlier
period by Nieuwentiet and Rode, but the weapons
wielded hy these adversaries w'ere contemptible when
compared with the ingenuity of Dr Berkeley.
89. Notwithstanding this attack upon the principles Works of
of the new analysis, the science of geometry made rapid Thomas -
advances in England in the hands of Thomas Simpson, Simpson.
Landen, and Waring. In 1740, Mr Simpson publish-
ed his Treatise on Fluxions, which, besides many origi- 7 ''
nal researches, contains a convenient method of resolv¬
ing differential equations by approximation, and various
means of hastening the convergency of slowly comer- •
ging series. We are indebted to the same geometer for
several general theorems for summing different series,
whether they are susceptible of an absolute or an ap¬
proximate summation. VWzMathematicalDissertations,
published in 1743, his Essays on several Subjects in
Mathematics, published in 1740, and his Select Exer¬
cises for Young Prof dents in the Mathematics, pub¬
lished in 1752, contain ingenious and original researches
which contributed to the progress of geometry. -
90. In his Mathematical Lucubrations, published in res;(|a_
1755, Mr Landen has given several ingenious theorems ai analysis
for the summation of series; and the Philosophical Trans* invented by
actions for 1775 contain his curious discovery of the j'*’
rectification of a hyperbolic arc, by means of two arcs
of an ellipsis, which was afterwards more simply demon- y''
strated by Legendre. His invention of a new calculus,
called the residual analysis, and in some respects sub¬
sidiary to the method of fluxions, has immortalized his
name. It was announced and explained in a small
pamphlet published in 1715, entitled a Discourse con¬
cerning the Residual Analysis.
91. The progress of geometry in England was acce'Labours of
lerated by the labours of Mr Edward Waring, professor Waring,
of mathematics at Cambridge. His two works entitled PA Trans.
Meditationes Analyticce, published in 1769? ant^ Medita- I7S4>alul
tiones Algebraicce, and his papers in the Philosophical *79*^
Transactions on the summation of forces, are filled with
original and profound researches into various branches
of the common algebra, and the higher analysis.
92. It was from the genius of Lagrange, however, j)jSC0verjes
that the higher calculus has received the most brilliant 0f j ^
improvements. This great man was horn in l iedmont. grange.
He afterwards removed to Berlin, and hence to 1 aris,
where hb still resides. In addition to many improvements
upon the integral analysis, he has enriched geometry with
a new calculus called the method of. variations. I he oh- ^ nietj10(j
rect of this calculus is, when there is given an expression oi- varja_
or function of two or more variable quantities whose rela- tions.
tion is expressed by a certain law, to find what this func¬
tion becomes when that law suffers any variation infinite-
ly.
14
MATHEMATICS.
ly small, occasioned by tlie variation of one or more of the
terms which express it. This calculus is as much su¬
perior to the integral calculus, as the integral calculus
is above the common algebra. It is the only means
by which we can resolve an immense number of prob¬
lems dc mcueimis et minimis, and is necessary for the so¬
lution of the most interesting problems in mechanics.
Ills theory His theory of analytical functions is one of the most
oi analyti- brilliant specimens of human genius. In the Memoirs
tioiis'110" of Berlin for 1772 he had touched upon this interest¬
ing subject, but the theory was completely developed
in 1797 in his work entitled Theoric des fonclions ana-
iytiques, contenant les principes du calcul different id,
degagees de toute consideration d^injinimerits petits, ou
evanouissements, ou des limites, ou des fluxions ; et re¬
did t d Panalyse algebrique des quantitesjhiies. In a great
number of memoirs which are to be found in the Me¬
moirs of the Academy of Paris, in those of the Acade¬
my of Berlin, and in those of the French Academy, La¬
grange has thrown light on every branch both of the
common algebra and the new analysis.
■Labours of 93. The new geometry has likewise been much indebt-
La Place. r(] t0 the celebrated Laplace. His various papers in the
£ Tom. 6.7. Memoircs des Spavans Etrangers *, and the Memoirs
of the French Academy, have added greatly to the
higher calculi, while his application of analysis to the
celestial phenomena, as exhibited in the Mechanique
Cdleste, and his various discoveries in physical astronomy*
entitle him to a high rank among the promoters of science.
Works of 94. Among the celebrated French mathematicians of
Cousin, La-the last and present century, we cannot omit the names
croix, Bos- Gf Cousin, Lacroix, and Bossut *, all of whom have writ-
Le"entire *en ^arSe works on the differential and integral calculi,
b * and illustrated the new analysis by their discoveries.
The Elemens de Geometric by Legendre is one of the
best and most original works upon elementary geometry,
and his papers in the Memoirs of the Academy contain
several improvements upon the new analysis.
Ao-nesi’s 95- In Italy the mathematical sciences were destined
analytical *° ^,e improved and explained by a celebrated female,
institutions. Donna Maria Gaetana Agnesi (see Agnesi, Supple-
i7s4* ment) was professor of mathematics in the university of
Bologna, and published a learned work entitled Analy¬
tical Institutions, containing the common analysis, and
the differential and integral calculi. It has been
translated into English by Professor Colson, and was
published at the expence of Baron Maseres. A few
Masciie- years ago several curious properties of the circle have
roni on the been discovered by Maacheroni, another Italian mathe-
circle. ^ 7
matician, who has published them in his interesting
work entitled sur le Geometric du Compas.
96. In England the mathematical sciences have been English
successfully cultivated by Emerson, Baron Maseres, Dr ipathema-
M. Young, Dr Hutton, Professor Vince, and Professor t*c^ins'
llobertson of Oxford. The Doctrine of Fluxions by Emerson,
Emerson, and his Method of Increments, are good in¬
troductions to the higher geometry. The Scriptores
Logarithmici of Baron Maseres } his Tracts on the Re- Baron Ma.
solution of Equations ; his Principles of Life Annuities, scrcs‘
and his other mathematical papers, do the highest ho¬
nour to his talents as a mathematician; while his zeal
for the promotion of the mathematical sciences, and his
generous attention to those who cultivate them, entitle
him to the noble appellation of the friend and patron of
genius. Dr Matthew Young, bishop of Clonfert, has Dr M.
given a synthetical demonstration of Newton’s rule for Young,
the quadrature of simple curves j and has written on
the extraction of cubic and other roots. Dr Hutton Dr Hutton
and Dr V ince have each published several elementary and Dr
treatises en mathematics, and have invented ingenious Ymce.
methods for the summation of series. Mr llobertson of Mr Robert.
Oxford is the author of an excellent treatise on conicson-
sections.
97. The ancient geometry was assiduously cultivated Scottish
in Scotland by Dr Robert Simpson and Dr Matthew mathcraa-
Stewart. Dr Simpson’s edition of Euclid and his treatise tlcians‘
on conic sections have been much admired. The Tracts Dr Simp.
Physical and Mathematical oi Dr Matthew Stewart, son.
and his Propositiones Geometricce more veterum demon-
stratce contxm fine specimens of mathematical genius. In Dr M.
the present day the names of Professor Playfair and Pro-Stewart,
fessor Leslie of the university of Edinburgh, Mr Wal¬
lace and Mr Ivory now of the Royal Military College
at Great Marlow, are well known to mathematicians.
Mr Playfair’s Elements of Geometry, and his papers on Mr Play-
the Arithmetic of Impossible Quantities and on Pori sms, ta^r*
are proofs of his great talents as a mathematician and a
philosopher. Mr Leslie, well known for his great disco-Mr Leslie,
veries on heat, has found a very simple principle, capa¬
ble of extensive application, by which the complicated
expressions in the solution of indeterminate problems may
be easily resolved, Mr Wallace’s papers on GeometricalMr Wal-
Porisms in the 4th vol. of the Edinburgh Transactions, lace-
display much genius •, and Mr Ivory’s Treatises in the Mr Ivory,
last vol. of Baron Maseres’s Scriptores Logarithmici,
and his paper on A New Series for the Rectification of
the Ellipsis, Edin. Trans, vol. 4th. entitle him to a high
rank among modern mathematicians.
MAT
Matliema- MATHEMATICAL, any thing belonging to the
tical, science of mathematics.
"Matlock. Mathematical Instruments, such instruments as
” 1 ■ * 1" are usually employed by mathematicians, as compasses,
scales, quadrants, &c.
Machine for dividing Mathematical Instruments.
See Ramsden’s Machine.
MATLOCK, a town or village of Derbyshire, near
MAT
Wicksworth, situated on the very edge of the Der- Matlock,
went j noted for its bath, the water of which is milk-t- v—
warm } and remarkable for the huge rocks in its envi¬
rons, particularly those called the Torn, which is 140
yards high. It is an extensive straggling village, built
in a very romantic style, on the steep side of a moun¬
tain, and containing, in 1801, above 2000 inhabitants.
Near the bath are several small houses, whose situation
is
M A T [
Matlock is on the little natural horizontal parts of the mountain,
|| a few yards above the road, and in some places the roofs
Matrix. 0f gome almost touch the floors of others. There are ex¬
cellent accommodations for company who resort to the
bath ; and the poorer inhabitants are supported by the
sale of petrifactions, crystals, &c. and notwithstanding
the rockiness of the soil, the clills produce an immense
number of trees, whose foliage adds greatly to the beau¬
ty of the place.
MATRASS, Cucurbit, or Bolthead, among clie-
• mists. See Chemistry, Explanation of Plates.
MATRICARIA, Feverfew ; a genus of plants,
belonging to the syngenesia class ; and in the natural
method ranking under the 49th order, Compositce. See
Botany Index.
MATRICE, or Matrix, See Matrix.
Matrice, or matrix, in Dyeing, is applied to the
five simple colours, whence all the rest are derived or
composed. These are, the black, white, blue, red, and
yellow or root colour.
Matrice, or matrices, used by the letter-founders,
are those little pieces of copper or brass, at one end
whereof are engraven, dentwise, or en creux, the seve¬
ral characters used in the composing of books. Each
character, virgula, and even eacli point in a discourse,
has its several matrix j and of consequence its several
puncheon to strike it. Matrices are cut or graved by
engravers in metal.
When types are to be cast, the matrice is fastened
to the end of the mould, so disposed, as that when the
metal is poured on it, it may fall into the creux or ca¬
vity of the matrice, and take the figure and impression
thereof. See Letter Foundery.
Matrices, used in coining, are pieces of steel in
form of dies, whereon are engraven the several figures,
arms, characters, legends, &c. wherewith the species
are to be stamped. The engraving is performed with
several puncheons, which being formed in relievo, or
prominent, when struck on the metal, make an indent¬
ed impression, which the French call en creux.
MATRICULA, a register kept of the admission
of officers and persons entered into any body or society
whereof a list is made. Hence those who are admitted
into our universities are said to be matriculated. A-
mong ecclesiastical authors, we find mention made of
two kinds of matricide *, the one containing a list of
the ecclesiastics, called matricida clcricorum : the other
of the poor subsisted at the expence of the church, call¬
ed matricula paupermn.
Matricula was also applied to a kind of alms¬
house, where the poor were provided for. It had cer¬
tain revenues appropriated to it, and was usually built
near the church, whence the name was also frequently
given to the church itself.
MATRIMONY. See Marriage.
MATRIX, in Anatomy, the wromb, or that part of
the female of any kind, wherein the foetus is conceived
and nourished till the time of its delivery. See Ana¬
tomy, N° 108.
Matrix is also applied to places proper for the ge¬
neration of vegetables, minerals, and metals. Thus
the earth is the matrix wherein seeds sprout 5 and
marcasites are by many considered as the matrices of
jnetals.
The matrix of ores is the earthy and stony substai>
3
15 ] M A T
ces in which these metallic matters are enveloped:
these are various, as lime and heavy spar, quartz,
lluors, &c.
MATRON, an elderly married woman.
Jury of Matrons. When a widow feigns herself
with child in order to exclude the next heiq, and a
supposititious birth is suspected to he intended, then,
upon the writ de ventre inspiciendo, a jury of women
is to be impannelled to try the question whether the.
woman is with child or not. 80, if a woman is
convicted of a capital offence, and, being condemned
to suft'er death, pleads in stay of execution, that she
is pregnant, a jury of matrons is impannelled to in¬
quire into the truth of the allegation ; and, if they
find it true, the convict is respited till after her deli¬
very.
MATRONA, in Ancient Geography, a river sepa¬
rating Gallia Celtica from the Belgica (Caesar). Now
the Marne ; which, rising in Champagne near Langres,
runs north-west, and then west, and passing by Meaux:
falls into the Seine at Charenton, twTo leagues to the
east of Paris.
MATRONALIA, a Roman festival instituted by
Romulus, and celebrated on the kalends of March, in
honour of Mars. It was kept by matrons in particular,
and bachelors were entirely excluded from any share in
the solemnity. The men during this feast sent presents
to the women, for which a return was made by them at
the Saturnalia : And the women gave the same indul¬
gence to their servants now which the men gave to
theirs at the feast of Saturn, serving them at table, and
treating them as superiors.
MATROSSES, are soldiers in the train of artil¬
lery, w’ho are next to the gunners^ and assist them in
loading, firing, and sponging the great guns. They
carry firelocks, and march along with the store wag¬
gons, both as a guard, and to give their assistance in
case a waggon should break down.
MATSYS, Quintin, painter of history and por¬
traits, w'as born at Antwerp in 1460, and for several
years followed the trade of a blacksmith or farrier, at
least till he wras in his 20th year*. Authors vary in their
accounts of the cause of his quitting his first occupa¬
tion, and attaching himself to the art of painting.
Some affirm, that the first unfolding of his genius was
occasioned bv the sight of a print which accidentally
was shown to him by a friend who came to pay him a,
visit while he was in a declining state of health from
the labour of his former employment, and that by his
copying the print with some degree of success, he was
animated with a desire to learn the art of painting.
Others say, he fell in love with a young woman of
great beauty, the daughter of a painter, and they al¬
lege that love alone wrought the miracle, as he could
have no prospect of obtaining her except by a distin¬
guished merit in the profession of painting : for which
reason he applied himself with incessant labour to study
and practise the art, till he became so eminent as to
be entitled to demand her in marriage, and he succeed¬
ed. Whatever truth may be in either of these ac¬
counts, it is certain that he appeai*ed to have an un¬
common genius \ his manner was singular, not resem¬
bling the manner of any other master; and his pictures
were strongly coloured and carefully finished, but yet
they are somewhat dry and hard. By many compe¬
tent.
M AT [i
lent iuflges it was believed, when they observed thi
strength of expression in some of his compositions, that
if he had studied in Italy to acquire some knowledge of
the antiques and the great masters of the Roman school,
he would have proved one of the most eminent painters
of the Low Countries. But he only imitated ordinary
life 5 and seemed more inclined, or at least more quali¬
fied, to imitate the defects than the beauties of nature.
Some historical compositions of this master deserve com-
. mendation j particularly a Descent from the Cross,
. which is in the cathedral at Antwerp •; and it is justly
admired for the spirit, skill, and delicacy of the whole.
But the most remarkable and best known picture of
. Matsys, is that of the Two Misers in the gallery at
Windsor. He died in 1529.
MATT, in a ship, is a name given to rope-yarn,
junk, &c. beat flat and interwoven ; used in order to
.preserve the yards from galling or rubbing, in hoisting
or lowering them.
MATTER, in common language, is a word of the
same import with body, and denotes that which is tan¬
gible, visible, and extended but among philosophers it
.signifies that substance of which all bodies are compo¬
sed } and in this sense it is synonymous with the word
Element.
It is only by the senses that we have any communi¬
cation with the external world ; but the immediate ob¬
jects of sense, philosophers have in general agreed to
term qualities, which they conceive as inhering in
something which is called their subject or substratum.
It is this substratum of sensible qualities which, in the
language of philosophy, is denominated matter ; so
that matter is not that which we immediately see or
handle, but the concealed subject or support of visiblc
and tangible qualities. What the moderns term quali¬
ties, was by Aristotle and his followers called form;
but so far as the tvro doctrines are intelligible, there ap¬
pears to be no essential difference between them. From
the moderns we learn, that body consists of matter and
qualities; and the Peripatetics taught the same thing,
when they said that body is composed of matter and
form.
How philosophers were led to analyze body into mat¬
ter and form, or, to use modern language, into matter
and qualities ; what kind of existence they attribute to
each 5 and whether matter must he conceived as self-
existent or created—are questions which shall he consi¬
dered afterwards (See Metaphysics). It is sufficient
here to have defined the term.
MATTHEW, or Gospel of St Matthew, a cano¬
nical book of the New Testament.
St Matthew wrote his gospel in Judea, at the re¬
quest of those he had converted 5 and it is thought he
began in the year 41, eight years after Christ’s resur¬
rection. It was written, according to the testimony of
all the ancients, in the Hebrew or Syriac language ;
but the Greek version, which now passes for the origi¬
nal, is as old as the apostolical times.
St Matthew the Evangelist's E)ai/, a festival of the
Christian church, observed on. September 21st.
St Matthew, the son of Alpheus, was also called
Levi. He was of a Jewish original, as both his names
discover, and probably Galilean. Before his call to
the apostolate, he was fa publican or toll-gatherer to
vthe Romans y an office of bad repute among the
6 ] MAT
Jews, on account of the covetousness and exaction of Matthew,
those who managed it 5 St Matthew’s office particular-
ly consisting in gathering the customs of ail merchan¬
dise that came by the sea of Galilee, and the tribute
that passengers were to pay who went by water. And
here it was that Matthew sat at the receipt of customs,
when our Saviour called him to be a disciple. It is
probable, that, living at Capernaum, the place of
Christ’s usual residence, he might have some know-
. ledge of him before he was called. Matthew imme¬
diately expressed his satisfaction in being called to this
high dignity, by entertaining our Saviour and his dis¬
ciples at a great dinner at his own house, whither he
invited all his friends, especially those of his own pro¬
fession, hoping, probably, that they might be influenced
by the company and conversation of Christ. St Mat¬
thew continued with the rest of the apostles till after
our Lord’s ascension. For the first eight years after¬
wards, he preached in Judea. Then he betook himself
to propagating the gospel among the Gentiles, and
chose Ethiopia as the scene of his apostolical ministry ;
where it is said he suffered martyrdom, but by what
kind of death is altogether uncertain. It is pretended,
but without any foundation, that Hyrtacus, king of
Ethiopia, desiring to marry Iphigenia, the daughter
of his brother and predecessor iEglippus, and the apos¬
tle having represented to him that he could not law¬
fully do it, the enraged prince ordered his head im¬
mediately to he cut oft. Baromus- tells us, the body
of St Matthew v’as transported from Ethiopia to Bi-
thynia, and from thence w as carried to Salernum in the
kingdom of Naples in the year 954, where it was found
in 1080, and where Duke Robert built a church bear¬
ing his name.
St Matthew, a town of Spain, in the kingdom of
Arragon, seated in a pleasant plain, and in a very fer¬
tile country watered with many springs. W. Long*
Q. 15. N. Lat. 40. 22.
. Matthew of Paris. See Paris.
Matthew of JFestminster, a Benedictine monk and
accomplished scholar, who wrote a history from the
beginning of the world to the end of the reign of Ed¬
ward I. under the title of Elores Historian/m ; which
was afterwards continued hy other hands. He died in
i38°-
St MATTHIAS, an apostle, was chosen instead
of Judas. He preached in Judea and part of Ethi¬
opia, and suffered martyrdom. See the Acts of the
Apostles, chap. i. There was a gospel published un¬
der Matthias’s name, but rejected as spurious •, as
likewise some traditions, which met with the same
fate.
St Matthias's Day, a festival of tlie Christian
church, observed on the 24th of February. St Mat¬
thias was an apostle of Jesus Christ, but not of the
number of the twelve chosen hy Christ himself. He
obtained this high honour upon a vacancy made in
the college of the apostles by the treason and death
of Judas Iscariot. The choice fell on Matthias by
lot ■, his competitor being Joseph called Barsabas, and
surnamed Justus. Matthias was qualified for the
apostleship, by having been a constant attendant upon
our Saviour all the time of his ministry. He was,
probably, one of the 70 disciples. After our Lord’s
resurrection, he preached the gospel first in Judea.
Afterwards
Maty.
MAT [ i
iCaltliias AftEnVards it is probable he travelled eastward, his
residence being principally near the irruption of the
river Apsarus and the haven Hyssus. The barbarous
people treated him with great; rudeness and inhumani¬
ty 5 and, after many labours and sufferings in convert¬
ing great numbers to Christianity, he obtained the
crown of martyrdom } but by what kind of death, is
uncertain.—They pretend to show the relics of St Mat¬
thias at Rome j and the famous abbey of St Mat¬
thias near Treves boasts of the same advantage j but
doubtless both without any foundation. There -was a
gospel ascribed to St Matthias j but it was universally
rejected as spurious.
MATTIACiE AnuvE, or Mattiaci Fontes, in
Ancient Geography, now Wisbaden, opposite to Mentz,
in Weteravia. E. Long. 8. N. Lat. 50. 6.
MATTIACUM, or Mattium, in Ancient Geogra-
p/i7j, a town of the Mattiaci, a branch of the Catti in
Germany. Now Marpurg in Hesse. E. Long. 8. 40.
N. Lat. 50. 40.
M ATT INS, the first canonical hour, or the first
part of the daily service in the Romish church.
MATTHIOLUS, Peter Andrew, an eminent
physician in the 16th century, born at Sienna, was well
skilled in the Greek and Latin tongues. He wrote
learned commentaries on Dioscorides, and other works
which are esteemed ; and died in I577‘
MATURANTS, in Pharmacy, medicines which
promote the suppuration of tumors.
MATY, M atthew, M. D. an eminent physician
and polite writer, was born in Holland in the year
1718. He was the son of a clergyman, and was ori¬
ginally intended for the church ; but in consequence
of some mortifications his father met with from the
synod, on account of the peculiar sentiments he en¬
tertained about the doctrine of the Trinity, turned
his thoughts to physic. He took his degree of M. H.
at Leyden j and in 1740 came to settle in England,
his father having determined to quit Holland for ever.
In order to make himself known, he began in 1749 to
publish in French an account of the productions of the
English press, printed at the Hague under the name of
the Journal Britanniqne. This journal, which conti¬
nues to hold its rank amongst the best of those which
have appeared since the time of Bayle, answered the
chief end he intended bv it, and introduced him to
the acquaintance of some of the most respectable lite¬
rary characters of the country he had made his own.
It was to their active and uninterrupted friendship he
owed the places he afterwards possessed. In 1758 he
was chosen fellow, and in 1765, on the resignation of
Dr Birch, who died a few months after, and had made
him his executor, secretary to the Royal Society. He
had been appointed one of the under librarians of the
British museum at its first institution in 1753, and be¬
came principal librarian at the death of Dr Knight in
1-772. Useful in all these situations, he promised to be
eminently so in the last, when he was seized with a
languishing disorder, which in 1776 pot an end to a
life which had been uniformly devoted to the pursuit
of science and the offices of humanity. He was an
early and active advocate for inoculation •, and when
there was a doubt entertained that one might have the
^smallpox this way a second time, tried it upon him-
iself unknown to his family. He was a member of
; Vol. XIII. Fart I. t
7 ] M A U
the medical club (with the Drs Parsons, Templeman, Maty,
Fothergill, Watson and others), which met everyMaubeuge.^
fortnight in St Paul’s Churchyard. He was twice v
married, viz. the first time to Mrs Elizabeth Boisra-
gon ; and the second to Mrs Mary Deners. He left
a son and three daughters. He had nearly finished
the Memoirs of the earl of Chesterfield •, which were
completed by his son-in-law Mr Justamond, and pre¬
fixed to that nobleman’s Miscellaneous Works, 1777,
2 vols 410.
Maty, Paul Henry, M. A. F. R. S. son of the
former, was born in 1745’ an(^ was educated at West¬
minster and Trinity college, Cambridge, and had their
travelling fellowship for three years. He was afterwards
chaplain to Lord Stormont at Paris, and soon after va¬
cated his next fellowship by marrying 6ne of the three
daughters of Joseph Clerk, Esq. and sister of Captain
Charles Clerk (who succeeded to the command on the
death of Captain Cook). On his father’s death in 1776,
he was appointed to the office of one of the under libra¬
rians of the British Museum, and was afterwards prefer¬
red to a superior department, having the care of the
antiquities, for which he was eminently qualified. In
1776 he also succeeded his father in the office of
secretary to the Royal Society. On the disputes re¬
specting the reinstatement of Dr H utton in the depart¬
ment of secretary for foreign correspondence in 1784,
Mr Maty took a warm and distinguised part, and re¬
signed the office of secretary; after which he under¬
took to assist gentlemen or ladies in perfecting their
knowledge of the Greek, Latin, French, and Italian
classics. Mr Maty was a thinking conscientious man j
and having conceived some doubts about the articles
he had subscribed in early life, he never could be pre¬
vailed upon to place himself in the way of ecclesiastical
preferment, though his connexions were amongst those
who could have served him essentially in this point j
and soon after his father’s death he withdrew himself
from ministering in the established church, his reasons
for which he published in the 47th volume of the Gent.
Magazine, p. 466. His whole life was thenceforwards
taken up in literary pursuits. He received look from
the duke of Marlborough, with a copy of that beauti¬
ful work, the Gemmce Marlburienses, of which only 100
copies were -worked off for presents; and of which
Air Maty wrote the French account, as Mr Bryant did
the Latin. In January 1782 he set on foot a Review
of publications, principally foreign, which he carried
on, with great credit to himself and satisfaction to the
public, for near five years, when he was obliged to
discontinue it from ill health. He had long laboured
under an asthmatic complaint, which at times made
great ravages in his constitution, and at last put a pe¬
riod to his life in Jan. 1787, at the age of 42 ; leaving
behind him one son.—Air Maty was eminently ac¬
quainted with ancient and modern literature, and parti¬
cularly conversant in critical researches. The purity
and probity of his nature were unquestionable j and his
humanity was as exquisite as it would have been exten¬
sive, had it been seconded by his fortune.
AIAUBEUGE, a fortified town of the Netherlands,
in Hainault, which formerly contained an abbey ot ca¬
lmnesses, who were noble both by the father and mo¬
ther’s side. In 1678 this place was ceded to France,
in whose possession it still remains. In September
> C 1793,
M A U
Maubeuge 1793, the Austrians formed the blockade of this place,
II but were driven from their position in the following
Maupertuis. month. It is seated on the river Sambre, in E. Long.
v ' 4. 2. N. Lat. 50. 16.
M ALCAIC (), Macaco, or Maki, a genus of
quadrupeds belonging to the order Primates. See Mam¬
malia Index.
MAVIS, a species of turdus. See Ornithology
Index.
MAUNCH, in Heraldry, the figure of an ancient
coat sleeve, borne in many gentlemen’s escutcheons.
MAUNDY THURSDAY, is the Thursday in pas¬
sion week j which was called Maunday, or Mandate
Thursday, from the command which our Saviour gave
his apostles to commemorate him in the Lord’s supper,
which he this day instituted •, or from the new com¬
mandment which he gave them to love one another,
after he had washed their feet as a token of his love
to them.
MAUPERTUIS, Peter Louis Morceau de, a
celebrated French academician, was born at St Malo
in 1698 ; and was there privately educated till he arriv¬
ed at his 16th year, when he was placed under the ce¬
lebrated professor of philosophy M. le Blond, in the
college of La Marche, at Paris. He soon discovered
a passion for mathematical studies, and particularly for
geometry. He likewise practised instrumental music
in his early years with great success, but fixed on no
profession till he was 20, when he entered into the ar¬
my. He first served in the Grey musqueteers \ but in
the year 1720, his father purchased for him a company
of cavalry in the regiment of La Rocheguyon. He re¬
mained but five years in the army, daring which time
he pursued his mathematical studies with great vigour 5
and it was soon remarked by M. Freret and other aca¬
demicians, that nothing but geometry could satisfy
his active soul and unbounded thirst for knowdedge.
In the year 1723, he was received into the Royal
Academy of Sciences, and read his first performance,
which was a memoir upon the construction and form
of musical instruments, November 15. 1724. During
the first years of his admission, he did not wholly con¬
fine his attention to mathematics j he dipt into natu¬
ral philosophy, and discovered great knowledge and
dexterity in observations and experiments upon animals.
If the custom of travelling into remote climates, like
the sages of antiquity, in order to be initiated into
the learned mysteries of those times had still subsisted,
no one would have conformed to it with greater eager¬
ness than M. de Maupertuis. His first gratification
of this passion was to visit the country which had
given birth to Newton : and during his residence at
London he became as zealous an admirer and fol¬
lower of that philosopher as any one of his owm
countrymen. His next excursion was to Basil in
Switzerland, where he formed a friendship with the fa¬
mous John Bernouilli and his family, which continued
to his death. At his return to Paris, he applied him¬
self to his favourite studies w ith greater zeal than ever :
—And how well he fulfilled the duties of an academi¬
cian, may be gathered by running over the memoirs of
the academy from the year 1724 to 1736 ", where it ap¬
pears that he wTas neither idle nor occupied by objects
of small importance. The most sublime questions in
geometry and the relative sciences received from his
M A U
hands that elegance, clearness, and precision, so re-Maupertuis,
markable in all his writings. In the year 1736, he v——1
ivas sent by the king of France to the polar circle to
measure a degree, in order to ascertain the figure of
the earth, accompanied by Messrs Clairault, Camus,
Le Monnier, 1’Abbe Outhier, and Celsius the cele¬
brated professor of astronomy at Upsal. This distinc¬
tion rendered him so famous, that at his return he Avas
admitted a member of almost every academy in Eu-
i°pe. . . . . „
In the year 1740 Maupertuis had an invitation from
the king of Prussia to go to Berlin 5 which Avas too
flattering to be refused. His rank among men of let¬
ters had not Avholiy efl’aced his love for his first pro¬
fession, namely that of arms. He folloAved his Prus¬
sian majesty into the field, and Avas a witness of the-
dispositions and operations that preceded the battle of
Mohvitz 5 but Avas deprived of the glory of being pre¬
sent, Avhen victory declared in favour of his royal pa¬
tron, by a singular kind of adventure. His horse, din¬
ing the heat of the action, running aAvay Avith him,
he fell into the hands of the enemy j and Avas at first
but roughly treated by the Austrian soldiers, to Avhom
he could not make himself known for Avant of lan¬
guage 5 but being carried prisoner to Vienna, he re¬
ceived such honours from their Imperial Majesties as
Avere never effaced from his memory. From Vienna-
he returned to Berlin j but as the reform of the aca¬
demy Avhich the king of Prussia then meditated Avas
not yet mature, he Avent again to Paris, Avhere his af¬
fairs called him, and Avas chosen in 1742 director of
the Academy of Sciences. In 1753 he Avas received in¬
to the French academy ", Avhich Avas the first instance
of the same person being a member of both the aca¬
demies at Paris at the same time. M. de Maupertuis
again assumed the soldier at the siege of Fribourg, and
was pitched upon by Marshal Cogny and the Count
d’Argenson to carry the news to the French king of
the surrender of that citadel.
He returned to Berlin in the year 1744, when a
marriage was negotiated and brought about by the
good offices of the queen-mother, between our author
and Mademoiselle de Borck, a lady of great beauty and
merit, and nearly related to M. de Borck, at that time
minister of state. This determined him to settle at
Berlin, as he was extremely attached to his neAV spouse,
and regarded this alliance as the most fortunate cir¬
cumstance of his life..
In the year 1746, M. de Maupertuis was declared
by his Prussian majesty president of the Royal Academy
of Sciences at Berlin, and soon after by the same prince
was honoured with the order of Merit : However, all
these accumulated honours and advantages, so far from
lessening his ardour for the sciences, seemed to furnish
new allurements to labour and application. Not a day
passed but he produced some neAV project or essay for
the advancement of knoAvledge. Nor did he confine
himself to mathematical studies only: metaphysics,
chemistry, botany, polite literature, all shared his at¬
tention, and contributed to his fame. At the same
time, he had, it seems, a strange inquietude of spi¬
rit, Avith a morose temper, which rendered him
miserable amidst honours and pleasures.—Such a
temperament did not promise a \rery pacific life,
and he was engaged in several quarrels. He had .
C 18 ]
M A U [ 19 ] M A U
fnupertuis. a quarrel with Koenig the professor of philosophy at
 Franeker, and another more terrible with Voltaire.
Maupertuis had inserted into the volume of Memoirs
of the Academy of Berlin for 1746, a discourse upon
the laws of motion •, which Koenig was not content
with attacking, but attributed to Leibnitz. Mauper¬
tuis, stung with the imputation of plagiarism, engaged
the academy of Berlin to call upon him for his proof j
which Koenig failing to produce, he was struck out of
the academy, of which he was a member. Several
pamphlets were the consequence of this ; and Voltaire,
for some reason or other, engaged against Maupertuis.
We say, for some reason or other j because Maupertuis
and Voltaire were apparently upon the most amicable
terms j and the latter respected the former as his master
in the mathematics. Voltaire, however, exerted all
his wit and satire against him ; and on the whole was
so much transported beyond what was thought right,
that he found it expedient in 1753 to quit the court of
Prussia.
Our philosopher’s constitution had long been con¬
siderably impaired by the great fatigues of various kinds
in which his active mind had involved him ; though
from the amazing hardships he had undergone in his
northern expedition, most of his future bodily suffer¬
ings may be traced. The intense sharpness of the air
could only be supported by means of strong liquors,
which served to increase his disorder, and bring on a
spitting of blood, which began at least 12 years before
he died. Yet still his mind seemed to enjoy the
greatest vigour; for the best of his writings were pro¬
duced, and most sublime ideas developed, during the
time of his confinement by sickness, when he was un¬
able to occupy his presidial chair at the academy. He
took several journeys to St Malo, during the last years
of his life, for the recovery of his health : And though
he always received benefit by breathing his native air,
yet still, upon his return to Berlin, his disorder like¬
wise returned with greater violence.—His last journey
into France was undertaken in the year 1757 } when
he was obliged, soon after his arrival there, to quit
his favourite retreat at St Malo, on account of the
danger, and confusion which that town was thrown into
by the arrival of the English in its neighbourhood.
From thence he went to Bourdeaux, hoping there to
meet with a neutral ship to carry him to Hamburgh,
in his way back to Berlin 5 hut being disappointed in
that hope, he went to Thoulouse, where he remained
seven months, tie had then thoughts of going to Italy,
in hopes a milder climate would restore him to health ;
hut finding himself grow worse, he rather inclined to¬
wards Germany, and went to Neufchatel, where for
three months he enjoyed the conversation of Lord
Marischal, with whom he had formerly been much
connected. At length he arrived at Basil, October
16. 1758, where he was received by his friend Ber-
nouilli and his family with the utmost tenderness and
affection. He at first found himself much better here
than he had been at Neufchatel: but this amendment
was of short duration 5 for as the winter approached,
his disorder returned, accompanied by new and more
alarming symptoms. He languished here many months
during which he was attended by M. de la Condamine }
and died in 1759.
He wrote in French, 1. The figure of the earth de¬
termined. 2. The measure of a degree of the meridian. Maupertuis
3. A discourse on the parallax of the moon. 4. A dis- j]
course on the figure of the stars. 5. The elements of Maurice,
geography. 6. Nautical astronomy. 7. Elements of' v
astronomy. 8. A physical dissertation on a white inha¬
bitant of Africa. 9. An essay on cosmography. 10. Re¬
flections on the origin of languages. 11. An essay on
moral philosophy. 12. A letter on the progress of the
sciences. 13. An essay on the formation of bodies.
14. An eulogium on M. de Montesquieu. 15. Letters,
and other works.
MAUR, St, was a celebrated disciple of St Bene¬
dict. If we can believe a life of St Maur ascribed to
Faustus his companion, he was sent by Benedict on a
mission to France. But this life is considered as apo¬
cryphal. In rejecting it, however, as well as the cir¬
cumstances of the mission, we must beware of denying
the mission itself. It is certain that it was believed in
France as early as the 9th century ; and notwithstand¬
ing the silence of Bede, Gregory of Tours, and others,
there are several documents which prove this, or at
least render it extremely probable. A celebrated so¬
ciety of Benedictines, took the name of St Maitr in
the beginning of the last century, and received the
sanction of Rope Gregory XV. in 1621. This so¬
ciety was early distinguished by the virtue and the
knowledge of its members, and it still supports the
character. There are, perhaps, fewer eminent men in
it than formerly; but this may be ascribed to the levi¬
ty of the age, and partly to the little encouragement
for the researches of learned men. The chief persons
of ingenuity which this societv has produced are, the
Fathers Menard, d’Acheri, Mabillon, Ruinart, Ger¬
main, Lami, Montfaucon, Martin, Vaissette, le Nourri,
Martianay, Marten ne, Massuet, &c. &c. See IS His-
toire Litteraire dela Congregation de St Maur, publish¬
ed at Paris under the title of Brussels, in qto, 1770,
by Horn. Tassin.
MAURICEAU, Francis, a Fx-ench surgeon, who
applied himself with gi’eat success and reputation to the
theory and practice of his art for several years at Paris.
Afterwards he confined himself to the disorders of preg¬
nant and lying-in-women, and was at the head of all
the operator’s in this way. His Observations sur la
gt'Ossesse and sur Vaccouchement des femmes, sur leurs
maladies, ct cclles des enfans nouveaux, 1694, in 4to, is
reckoned an excellent work, and has been translated
into several languages, German, Flemish, Italian, Eng¬
lish: and the author himself tx-anslated it into Latin.
It is illusti’ated with cuts. He translated another piece
or two, by way of supplement, on the same subject 5 and
died at Pai’is in 1709.
MAURICE, St, commander of the Theban le¬
gion, was a Christian, together with the officers and
soldiers of that legion, amounting to 6600 men.-—
Th is legion received its name from the city Thebes
in Egypt, where it was raised. It was sent by Dio-
clesian to check the Bagaudse, who had excited some
disturbances in Gaul. Maurice having carried his
troops over the Alps, the emperor Maximinian com¬
manded him to employ his utmost exertions to extii’-
pate Christianity. This proposal was received with
horror both by the commander and by the soldiers.
The emperor, enraged at their opposition, command¬
ed the legion to be decimated ; and when they still
C 2 declared
i
M A U [ 20 ] M A U
Iklaurice. declared that they would sooner die than do any thing
—-v~"' 1 prejudicial to the Christian faith, every tenth man of
those who remained was put to death. Their perse¬
verance excited the emperor to still greater cruelty $
for when he saw that nothing could make them
relinquish their religion, he commanded his troops
to surround them, and cut them to pieces. Mau¬
rice, the commander of these Christian heroes, and
Exuperus and Candidus, officers of the legion, who
had chiefly instigated the soldiers to this noble re¬
sistance, signalized themselves by their patience and
their attachment to the doctrines of the Christian re¬
ligion. They were massacred, it is believed, at A-
gaune, in Chablais, the 2 2d of September 286.—
Notwithstanding many proofs which support this trans¬
action, Dubordier, Hottinger, Moyle, Burnet, and
Mosheim, ate disposed to deity the fact. It is de¬
fended, on the other hand, by Hicks an English
writer, and by Dom Joseph de Lisle a Benedictine
monk de la congregration de Saint Vannes, in a work of
his, entitled Defence de la Verite du Martyre de la Le~
frion Thcbenne, 1737. In defence of the same fact, the
reader may consult Historia de S. Mmiritie, by P. Bos-
signole a Jesuit, and the Acta Sanctorum for the month
of September. The martyrdom of this legion, written
by St Eueherius bishop of Lyons, w as transmitted to
posterity in a very imperfect manner by Surius. P. Chif-
flet a Jesuit, discovered, and gave to the public, an ex¬
act copy of this wTork. Don lluinart maintains, that it
has every mark of authenticity. St Maurice is the pa¬
tron of a celebrated order in the king of Sardinia’s do¬
minions, created by Emanuel Philibert duke of Savoy,
to reward military merit, and approved by Gregory
XIII. in 1572. The commander of the Theban le¬
gion must not be confounded with another St Maurice,
mentioned by Theodoret, who sufl'ered martyrdom at
Apamea in Syria.
Maurice, {Mauritius Tiberius), was born at Ara-
bissus in Cappadocia, A. D. 539. He was descend¬
ed from an ancient and honourable Roman family.—
After he had filled several offices in the court of Tibe¬
rius Constantine, he obtained the command of his ar¬
mies against the Persians. His gallantry was so con¬
spicuous that the emperor gave him his daughter
Constantina in marriage, and invested him with the
purple the 13th August 582. The Persians still
continued to make inroads on the Roman territo¬
ries, and Maurice sent Philippicus, his brother-in-law,
against them. This general conducted the war with
various success. At first he gained several splendid
victories, but he did not continue to have a decided
superiority. As there was a great use for soldiers in
these unfortunate times, the emperor issued a man¬
date in 592, forbidding any soldier to become a monk
till he had accomplished the term of his military ser¬
vice. Maurice acquired much glory in restoring Chos-
roes II. king of Persia, to the throne, after he had
been deposed by his subjects. The empire was in his
reign harassed by the frequent inroads of the Arabian
tribes. He purchased peace from them, by granting
them a pension nearly equal to 100,000 crowns 5 but
these barbarians took frequent opportunities to renew
the war. In different engagements the Romans de¬
stroyed 50,000, and took 17,000 prisoners. These
were restored, on condition that the king of the Abari
should return all the Roman captives in his domimonst Maurice,
Regardless of his promise, he demanded a ransom of
10,000 crowns. Maurice, full of indignation, refused
the sum : and the barbarian, equally enraged, put the
captives to the sword. While the emperor, to revenge
this cruelty, was making preparations against the A-
bari, Phocas, who from the rank of centurion had
attained the highest military preferment, assumed the
purple, and was declared emperor. He pursued Mau¬
rice to Chalceden, took him prisoner, and condemned
him to die. The five sons of this unfortunate prince
were massacred before his eyes, and Maurice, humbling
himself under the hand of God, was heard to ex¬
claim, Thou art just, O Lord, and thy judgments are
without ’partiality. He wras beheaded on the 26th No¬
vember 602, in the 63d year of his age and 20th of
his reign. Many writers have estimated the charac¬
ter of this prince by his misfortunes instead of his
actions. They believed him guilty without evidence,
and condemned him without reason. It cannot be de¬
nied, however, that he allowed Italy to be harassed j
but he was a father to the rest of the empire. He re¬
stored the military discipline, humbled the pride of his
enemies, supported the Christian religion by his laws,
and piety by his example. He loved the sciences, and
was the patron of learned men.
Maurice, elector of Saxony, son of Henry le
Pieux, was born A. D. 1521. He ivas early remark¬
able for his courage, and during his whole life he was
engaged in warlike pursuits. He served under the
emperor Charles V. in the campaign of 1544 against
France ; and in the year following against the league
of Smalkalde j with which, although a Protestant, he
would have no manner of connexion. The emperor,
as a reward for his services, in the year 1547, made
him elector of Saxony, having deprived liis cousin
John Frederick of that electorate. Ambition had
led him to second the views, of Charles, in the hope of
being elector, and ambition again detached him from
that prince. In 1551 he entered into a league against
the emperor, together with the elector of Branden-
burgh, the Count Palatine, the duke of Wirtem-
burg, and many other princes. This league, encou¬
raged by the young and enterprising Henry II. of
France, was more dangerous than that of Smalkalde.
The pretext for the association was the deliverance of
the landgrave of Hesse, whom the emperor kept pri¬
soner. Maurice and the confederates marched, in
1552, to the defiles of Tyrol, and put to flight the
Imperial troops who guarded them. The emperor
and his brother Ferdinand narrowly escaped, and fled
from the conquerors in great disorder. Charles hav¬
ing retired into Passau, where he had collected an
army, brought the princes of the league to terms of
accommodation. By the famous peace of Passau,
which was finally ratified the 12th of August 1552,
the emperor granted an amnesty without exception to
all those who had carried arms against him from the
year 1546. The Protestants not only obtained the
free exercise of their religion, but they were admit¬
ted into the imperial chamber, from which they had
been excluded since the victory of Mulberg.—-Mau¬
rice soon after united himself with the emperor against
the margrave of Brandenburg, who laid waste the
German provinces. He engaged him in 1553, gain¬
ed
M A U [2
ed. the battle of Sivershausen, and died of the wounds
he had received in the engagement two days after.
He Avas one of the greatest protectors of the Luther¬
ans in Germany, and a prince equally brave and po¬
litic. After he had profited by the spoils of John
Frederick, the chief of the Protestants, he became
himself the leader of the party, and by these means
maintained the balance of power against the emperor
in Germany.
Maurice de Nassau, Prince of Orange, succeeded
to the government of the Loav Countries after the
death of his father William, Avho was killed in 1584
by the fanatic Gerard. The young prince was then
only eighteen years of age, but his courage and abi¬
lities were above his years. He was appointed cap¬
tain general of the United Provinces, and he reared
that edifice of liberty of which his father had laid the
foundation. Breda submitted to him in 1590 j Zut-
phen, Deventer, Hulst, Nimeguen, in 1591. He
gained se\’eral important advantages in I 592’ an<^
the year following he made himself master of Gertrn-
denburg. When he had performed these splendid
services, he returned to the Loav Countries by the Avay
of Zealand. His fleet Avas attacked by a dreadful
tempest, in Avhich he lost forty vessels, and he him¬
self had \'ery nearly perished. His death Avould have
been considered by the Hollanders as a much greater
calamity than the loss of their vessels. They Avatched
OArer his safety with exxeeding care. In I594> one
his guards was accused of an intention to take aAvay his
life 5 and it Avas generally believed that he Avas bribed
to this service by the enemies of the republic. He
fell a sacrifice at Bruges, cither to his oavii fanaticism
or to the jealous anxiety of the friends of Maurice.
The prince of Orange, increasing in reputation, de¬
feated the troops of the archduke Albert in 1597? anf^
drove the Spaniards entirely out of Holland. In 1600
he Avas obliged to raise the siege of Dunkirk ; but he
took ample vengeance on Albert, whom he again de¬
feated in a pitched battle near Nieuport. Before the
action, this great general sent back the ships which
had brought his troops into Flanders : My brethren
(said he to his army), we must conquer the enemy or
drink up the waters of the sea. Meterminefor your selves ;
l have determined I shall either conquer byyour bravery,
or I shall never survive the disgrace of being conquered
by men in every respect our inferiors. This speech ele¬
vated the soldiers to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and
the victory was complete. Ilhinberg, Grave, and Ecluse,
cities in Flanders, submitted to the conqueror the fol¬
lowing year. Maurice, hoAvever, not only laboured
for the commonAvealth, but also for himself. He co¬
veted the sovereignty of Holland, and Avas opposed in
the prosecution of his design by the pensioner Barne-
veldt. The zeal and activity of this Avise republican
cost him his life. He Avas an Arminian ; and at this
time Maurice defended Gomar against Arminius.—
Taking advantage of the general odium under which
the Arminians lay, he found means to get Barneveldt
condemned in 1619. His death, Avholly owing to
the cruel ambition of the Prince of Orange, made a
deep impression on the minds of the Hollanders. The
truce with Spain being expired, Spinola laid siege to
Breda in 1624, and in six months, by the proper di¬
rection of his great talents, though Avith great slaugh-
i ] M A U
ter of his troops, he took the place. The prince of Mauric
Orange, unsuccessful in every attempt to raise the Maurit
siege, died of vexation in 1625, age<l 55 years, Avith
the reputation of the greatest warrior of his time.—
“ The life of this stadtholder (says the abbe Bay-
nal) Avas almost an uninterrupted series of battles,
of sieges, and of victories. Of moderate abilities in
every thing else, he shone conspicuous in his military
capacity. His camp was the school of Europe \ and
those Avho received their military education in his ar¬
mies augmented, perhaps, the glory of their master.—
Like Montecuculi, he discovered inimitable skill in
his marches and encampments ; like Vauban, he pos¬
sessed the talent of fortifying places, and of rendering
them impregnable 5 like Eugene, the address of find¬
ing subsistence for great armies in countries barren by
nature, or ravaged by Avar •, like Vendome, the happy
talent of calling forth, in the moment they became
necessary, greater exertions from his soldiers than could
reasonably be expected •, like Conde, that infallible
quickness of eye Avhich decides the fortune of battles j
like Charles XII. the art of rendering his troops al¬
most invincible to cold, hunger, and fatigue ; like
Turenne, the secret of making Avar with the least pos¬
sible expence of human blood.” The Chevalier Folard
maintains, that Maurice was the greatest commander
of infantry since the time of the Romans. He studied
the military art of the ancients, and applied their rules
Avitb great exactness in the various occurrences of Avar.
He not only took advantage of the inventions of others,
but he enriched the science of Avar with several im¬
provements. Telescopes were first used by him for
a military purpose ; and, besides a kind of gallery in
conducting a siege, and the plan of blockading a
strong place, which Avere of his invention, he greatly
improved the whole art by his method of pushing an
attack Avith great vigour, and of defending, for the
greatest length of time, and in the best manner, a
place besieged. In short, the many useful things
which he practised or invented, placed him in the
highest rank among men of a military-character. On
one occasion, a lady of quality asked him, Who wa.t
the first general of the age $ Spinola (replied he) is the
second. It was his constant practice, during sleep, to-
have tiro guards placed by his bedside, not only to de¬
fend him in case of danger, but to aAvake him if there
should be the least occasion. The Avar betAvixt Spain
and Holland Avas never cas».ed on Avith greater keen¬
ness and animosity than during his administration.—
The Grand Signior, hearing of the vast torrents of
blood shed in this contest, thought that a great em¬
pire must depend on the decision. The object of so
many battles Avas pointed out to him on a map, and
he said coldly, If it were my business, I would send my
pioneers, and order them to cast this little corner of earth
into the sea. Maurice, like many great men, Avas im¬
patient under contradiction, and too much devoted to
women. He was succeeded by Frederick Henry his
brother.
MAURITANIA, an ancient kingdom of Africa,
bounded on the Avest by the Atlantic ocean, on the
south by Getulia or Libya Interior, and on the north
by the Mediterranean; comprehending the greater
part of the kingdoms of Fez and Morocco.-—Its an¬
cient limits are not exactly mentioned by any historian y
neither'
M A U [2
Mauritania, neither can they now be ascertained by any modern ob-
servations, these kingdoms being but little known to
Europeans.
This country was originally inhabited by a people
called Mauri, concerning the etymology of which name
authors are not agreed. It is probable, however, that
this country, or at least great part of it, was first
called Phut, since it appears from Pliny, Ptolemy, and
St Jerome, that a river and territory not far from Mount
Atlas went by that name. From the Jerusalem Tar-
gum it likewise appears, that part of the Mauri may
be deemed the offspring of Lud the son of Misraim,
since his descendants, mentioned Genesis x. are there
called Mauri, or Mauritania It is certain,
that this region, as well as the others to the eastward
of it, had many colonies planted in it by the Phoeni¬
cians. Procopius tells us, that in his time two pillars
of white stone were to be seen there, with the follow¬
ing inscription in the Phoenician language and charac¬
ter upon them : “ We are the Canaanites, that lied
from Joshua the son of Nun, that notorious robber.”
Ibnu Rachic, or Ibnu Raquig, an African writer cited
by Leo, together with Evagrius and Nicephorus Cal-
listus, assert the same thing.
The Mauritanians, according to Ptolemy, were di¬
vided into several cantons or tribes. The Metagonitce
were seated near the straits of Hercules, now those
of Gibraltar. The Saccosii, or Cocosii, occupied the
coast of the Iberian sea. Under these two petty na¬
tions the Masices, Verues, and Verbicce or Vcrvicce,
were settled. The Saliscc or Salimce, were situated
lower, towards the ocean *, and, still more to the
south, the Volubiliani. The Maurensii and Herpiditani
possessed the eastern part of this country, which wras
terminated by the Miducha. The Angaucani, or
Jangacaucani, Nectibcres, 7jagrensii, Baniubte, and Va¬
cant#, extended themselves from the southern foot
of Ptolemy’s Atlas Minor to his Atlas Major. Pliny
mentions the Baniur#, whom Father Hardouin takes
to be Ptolemy’s Baniubte •, and Mela the Atlantes,
whom he represents as possessed of the western part of
this district.
The earliest prince of Mauritania mentioned in
history is Neptune ; and next to him were Atlas and
Antaeus his two sons, both famous in the Grecian
fables on account of their wars with Hercules. An-
tceus, in his contention with that hero, seems to have
behaved with great braw.- y and resolution. Plaving
received large reinforcements of Libyan troops, he
cut off great numbers of Hercules’s men. But that
celebrated commander, having at last intercepted a
strong body of Libyans sent to the relief of Anteeus,
gave him a total overthrow, wherein both he and the
best part of his forces were put to the sword. This
decisive action put Hercules in possession of Libya
and Mauritania, and consequently of the riches of all
these kingdoms. Hence came the fable, that Her¬
cules, finding Antaeus, a giant of an enormous size
with whom he was engaged in single combat, to re¬
ceive fresh strength as often as he touched his mother
earth when thrown upon her, at last lifted him up in
the air and squeezed him to death. Hence likewise
may be deduced the fable intimating that Hercules
took the globe from Atlas upon his own shoulders,
overcame the dragon that guarded the orchards of the
2 ] M A U
Hesperides, and made himself master of all the gold- Mauritania,
en fruit there. Bochart thinks that the fable alluded 1 v—^
chiefly to naval engagements, wherein Hercules, for
the most part, was victorious $ though Antaeus from
time to time received succours by sea. But at last
Hercules, coming up with one of his squadrons which
had a strong reinforcement on board, made himself
master of it, and thus rendered Antseus incapable for
the future of making head against him. The same
author likewise insinuates, that the notion of Antaeus’s
gigantic stature prevailing for so many centuries a-
mongst the Tingitanians, pointed out the size of the
vessels of which his fleets and squadrons were com¬
posed. As for the golden apples so frequently men¬
tioned by the old mythologists, they were the trea¬
sures that fell into Hercules’s hands upon the defeat
of Antseus ; the Greeks giving the oriental word
hxn riches, the signification affixed to their own term
p.YiAu., apples.
With regard to the age in which Atlas and An¬
taeus lived, the most probable supposition seems to be
that of Sir Isaac Newton. According to that illus¬
trious author, Ammon the father of Sesac was the
first king of Libya, or that vast tract extending from
the borders of Egypt to the Atlantic ocean ; the con¬
quest of which country was effected by Sesac in his
father’s lifetime. Neptune afterwards excited the Li¬
byans to a rebellion against Sesac, and slew him ; and
then invaded Egypt under the command of Atlas or
Antaeus, the son of Neptune, Sesac’s brother and ad¬
miral. Not long after, Hercules, the general of The-
bais and Ethiopia for the gods or great men of Egypt,
reduced a second time the whole continent ot Libya,
having overthrown and slain Antseus near a town in
Thebais, from that event called Antcea or Antaopohs:
this, we say, is the notion advanced by Sir Isaac New¬
ton, who endeavours to prove, that the first reduction
of Libya, by Sesac, happened a little above a thou¬
sand years before the birth of Christ, as the last, by
Hercules, did some few years alter. Now, though
we do not pretend to adopt every particular circum¬
stance of Sir Isaac Newton’s system, yet avc cannot
forbear observing, that it appears undeniably plain
from Scripture, that neither the western extremity of
Libya, nor even the other parts of that region, could
possibly have been so well peopled before the time of
David or Solomon, as to have sent a numerous army
to invade Egypt. For Egypt and Phoenicia, from
whence the greatest part of the ancestors of the Li¬
byans came, and which were much nearer the place
from whence the first dispersion of mankind was made,
could not themselves have been greatly overstocked
with inhabitants any considerable time before the reign
of Saul. And that such an invasion happened in the
reign of Neptune, or at least of his son Antaeus, has
been most fully evinced by this most excellent chrono-
loger.
From the defeat of Antaeus, nothing remarkable
occurs in the history of Mauritania till the times of the
Homans, who at last brought the whole kingdom
under their jurisdiction; for which see the article
Rome. i. With regard to the customs, &c. of this
people, it would seem, from what Hyginus insinuates,
that they fought only with clubs, till one Belus, the
son of Neptune, as that author calls him, taught
them
M A U i;
' 3: irltania. them the use of the sword. Sir Isaac Newton makes
<* -y—i this Belus to have been the same person with Sesostris
king of Egypt, who overran a great part of the then
known world. 2. All persons of distinction in Mau¬
ritania went richly attired, wearing much gold and
silver in their clothes. They took great pains in cleans¬
ing their teeth, and curled their hair in a curious and
elegant manner. They combed their beards, which
were very long, and always had their nails pared ex-
f tremely close. When they walked out in any num¬
bers, they never touched one another, for fear of dis¬
concerting the curls into which their hair had been
formed. 3. The Mauritanian infantry, in time of ac¬
tion, used shields made of elephants skins, being clad
in those of lions, leopards, and bears, which they
kept on both night and day. 4. The cavalry of this
nation was armed with broad short lances, and carried
targets or bucklers, made likewise of the skins of wild
beasts. They used no saddles. Their horses Avere
small and SAvift, had Avooden collars about their necks,
and Avere so much under the command of their riders,
that they Avould folloAV them like dogs. The habit of
these horsemen Avas not much difterent from that of
the foot above mentioned, they constantly wearing a
large tunic of the skins of Avild beasts. The Phutaei,
of Avhom the Mauritanians were a branch, Avere emi¬
nent for their shields, and the excellent use they made
of them, as Ave learn from Homer, Xenophon, Hero¬
dotus, and Scripture. Nay, Herodotus seems to inti¬
mate, that the shield and helmet came from them to
the Greeks. 5. NotAvithstanding the fertility of their
soil, the poorer sort of the Mauritanians never took
care to manure the ground, being strangers to the art
of husbandry j but roved about the country in a Avild
savage manner, like the ancient Scythians or Arabes
Scenitse. They had tents, or mapulia, so extremely
small, that they could scarce breathe in them. Their
food Avas corn, herbage, &c. Avhich they frequently
did eat green, without any manner of preparation, be¬
ing destitute of Avine, oil, and all the elegancies as
Avell as many necessaries of life. Their habit Avas the
same both in summer and Avinter, consisting chiefly of
an old tattered, though thick garment, and over it a
coarse rough tunic j Avhich ansAvered probably to that
of their neighbours the Numidians. Most of them lay
every night upon the bare ground ; though some of
them strewed their garments thereon, not unlike the
present African Kabyles and Arabs, who, according
to Dr ShaAV, use their hykes for a bed and covering in
the night. 6. If the most approved reading of Ho¬
race may be admitted, the Mauritanians shot poisoned
arroAvs *, Avhich clearly intimates, that they had some
skill in the art of preparing poisons, and Avere excellent
dartmen. This last observation is countenanced by
Herodian and ALlian, Avho entirely come into it, affirm¬
ing them to have been in such continual danger of be¬
ing devoured by Avild beasts, that they durst not stir
out of their tents or mapalia Avithout their darts. Such
perpetual exercise must render them exceedingly skil¬
ful in hurling that Aveapon. 7. The Mauritanians sa¬
crificed human victims to their deities, as the Phoenici¬
ans, Carthaginians, &c. did.
The country people were extremely rude and bar¬
barous \ but those inhabiting cities must undoubtedly
have had at least some smattering in the literature of the
23 ] M A U
several nations they deduced their origin from. That Mauritania
the Mauritanians had some knotvledge in naAral affairs, jj
seems probable, not only from the intercourse they Mauritius,
had with the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, as Avell v
as the situation of their country } but likeAvise from
Orpheus, or Onomacritus, who asserts them to have
made a settlement at the entrance into Colchis, to Avhich
place they came by sea. Magic, sorcery, divination,
&c. they appear to have applied themselves to in very
early times. Cicero and Pliny say, that Atlas Avas the
inventor of astrology, and the doctrine of the sphere,
i. e. he first introduced them into Mauritania. This,
according to Diodorus Siculus, gave rise to the fable
of Atlas bearing the heavens upon his shoulders. The
same author relates that Atlas instructed Hercules in
the doctrine of the sphere and astrology, or rather
astronomy, Avho afterwards brought those sciences into
Greece.
MAURITIA, the Ginkgo, or Maidenhair Tree ;
a genus of plants belonging to the natural order of
palmas. See Botany Index.
MAURITIUS, or Maurice, an island of Africa,
about 400 miles east of Madagascar, lying in the la¬
titude of 20 and 21 degrees south. It is about 150
miles in circumference. In the beginning of the 16th
century it Avas discovered by the Portuguese, Avho
knowing that Pliny and other ancient Avriters had
mentioned the island of Cerne in these seas, took it
for granted that this must be it 5 and accordingly Ave
find it styled Cerne or Sirne, in their maps : but, not¬
withstanding this, they did not think fit to settle it}
and indeed their force Avas so small, in comparison of
the vast dominions they grasped, that it was very ex¬
cusable. HoAvever, according to their laudable cus¬
tom, they put some hogs, goats, and other cattle, up¬
on it, that in case any of their ships either going to
the Indies or returning to Portugal should be obliged
to touch there, they might meet vvith refreshments.
The Dutch, in the second voyage they made to the
East Indies under their admiral James Cornelius \ an-
neck, came together Avith five ships on the 15th of
September 1568; anchored in a commodious port, to
which they gave the name of Warwick Haven; and
gave a very good account of the place in their jour¬
nals. Captain Samuel Castleton, in the Pearl, an
English East India ship, arrived there on the 27th of
March 1612 ; and taking it to be an island undiscover¬
ed before, bestoAved upon it the name of England's Fo¬
rest, though others of his crew called it Fearl Island ;
and in the account of their voyage, Avritten by John
Tatton the master of the ship, celebrated it as a place
very convenient for shipping, either outward or home-
Avard bound, to refresh at. This they sometimes ac¬
cordingly did, and brought some cargoes ol ebony,
and rich wood from thence, but Avithout fixing any
settlement.
At length, in 1638, the Dutch seated themselves •
here : and it is highly remarkable, that at the very
time they were employed in making their fiist settle¬
ment, the French sent a vessel to take possession ol it,
Avho found the Dutch beforehand Avith them, and re¬
fused the assistance of an English Indiaman, wooding
and Avatering in another part of the island, avIio veiy
frankly offered it, to drive the Dutch from their half
settled posts. They continued for some time in quiet
possessioa-
M A U [ 24 ] M A U
Mauritius, possession of tlie places they fortined in this island, to
^ which they gave the name of Mauritius, in honour of
Prince Maurice their stadtholder. But having en¬
gaged the French, who were settled on Madagascar,
to steal 50 of the natives, and sell them for slaves,
for the improvement of the Dutch settlements here,
this proved the ruin of both colonies 5 for the negroes
surprised and massacred the French in Madagascar j
and the slaves in Mauritius lied into the centre of the
island j from whence they so much and-so incessantly
molested those who had been formerly their masters,
that they chose to quit a country where they could no
longer remain in any tolerable degree of safety. The
East India Company, however, from motives of con-
veniency, and a very imperfect notion of its value, dis¬
approved this measure, and therefore ordered it to be
resettled \ which wras accordingly done, and three forts
erected at the principal havens. Things now went on
somewhat better than they did before 5 but they were
Still very much disturbed by the revolted negroes in
the heart of the isle, whom they could never subdue.
One principal nse that the company made of this
place, was to send thither state prisoners, who, as
they w'ere not men of the best morals, quickly cor¬
rupted the rest of the inhabitants, and rendered them
tsucIi a race of outrageous smugglers, the situation of
the place concurring with their bad disposition, that,
after various ineffectual attempts made to reform them,
orders were at length given to abandon Mauritius a
second time, which after some delays, were put in exe¬
cution in the year 1710.
Two years after this, the French took possession of
it, and named it the isle de France. This name has
obtained among themselves, but the Europeans in ge¬
neral continue to call it Mauritius. It lies in S.
Eat. 20. 15. E. Long. 6. 15. The inconveniences
arising from the want of a port at the island of Bour¬
bon, induced the French to take possession of Mauri¬
tius, it haying two very good harbours, to fortify which
no expence has been spared. That on the north-west
is called Port Louis, that on the south-east side of the
island is called Port Bourbon. The trade-wind from
the south-east in these latitudes blows all the year
round, excepting for a few days at the summer sol¬
stice, when it is interrupted by hard gales and hurri¬
canes from the north. The ease with which this wind
enables ships to enter the port of Bourbon, caused the
French, when they first took possession of this spot, to
esteem it the best port in the island) but experience
pointing out to them, that the same wind often ren¬
dered the passage out of the harbour so difficult, that a
ship was sometimes obliged to wait a considerable time
before the weather admitted of her putting to sea, this
harbour is in a great measure abandoned, and the prin¬
cipal town and seat of government is now fixed at Port
Louis, which is nearly in the middle of the north side
ef the island, and its entrance is through a channel
formed by two shoals, which advance about trvo miles
into the sea. When a ship arrives opposite to this
channel, the south-east wind hinders her from entering
the port under sail, and she must either warp in with
cables or be towed in with boats. The necessity of this
operation, joined to the extreme narrowness of the
c hannel, which does not admit of two ships abreast of
each other entering at the same time, is one of the best
3
defences the harbour has against an attack by sea *, tori Mamith,
from these obstacles, an enemy would find it a matter
of the greatest difficulty to force the port j and in ad¬
dition to this natural strength, they have built two forts
and as many batteries, which are mounted with heavy
cannon, and entirely command the approach to the
harbour, should ships presume to force an entry under
sail. This port is capable of containing 100 sail of
ships, and is well provided with every requisite for
repairing and even building of ships. '1 his port has
proved of the greatest advantage to France in the se¬
veral wars which have been carried on between Great
Britain and her •, and has proved of great utility to the
French East India Company’s commerce ; for here
their ships and crews vrere sure to meet with all neces¬
sary refreshment after a long voyage. The port of
Bourbon is also fortified ; and an army landed here
would find it an extremely difficult task to pass the
mountains to the different pai'ts of the island. M here
are several places between the north-east extremity and
Port Louis where boats may land, but all these are de¬
fended by batteries ; and the country behind them is
a continued thicket: The rest of the coast is inaccessi¬
ble. In the north-eastern quarter is a plain extending
about 10 miles from east to west, and in some places
five miles inland from the northern coast. All the
rest of the island is full of high ami steep mountains,
lying so near to one another, and the intervals betw'een
them so narrow', that, instead of valleys, they rather
resemble the beds of tori'ents} and these are choked
with huge fragments of rocks which have fallen from
the steep sides of the impending mountains. On the
summits of the mountains ice is frequently to be found,
and they are covered with forests of ebony and other
large trees. The ground they shade produces herbage,
shrubs, and plants of various sorts, from the common
grass to the strongest thorn, and that in such profusion,
that they form a thicket so closely interwoven, that
no progress can be made but by means of a hatchet.
Notwithstanding these difficulties, plantations have been
formed on these mountains, and very considerable pro-
gress has been made in the plains ; but the productions,
although mostly of the same kind, are not only in less
quantity, but of an inferior quality to those produced at
Bourbon island.
In a course of years, however, the settlement cost so
much, and was considered in every light worth so little,
that it had been more than once under deliberation,
whether, after the example of the Dutch, they should
not leave it again to its old negro inhabitants which
sooner or later in all likelihood would have been its
fate, if, in 1735? the famous M. de la Bourdonnais had
not been sent thither with the title of governor-general
of the French islands.
He found this isle in the worst state possible, thinly
inhabited by a set of lazy people, who equally hated
industry and peaee, and who were continually flatter¬
ing this man to his face, and belying him wherever
and as far as they durst. He gave himself no trouble
about this, having once found the means to make him¬
self obeyed j he saw the vast importance of the island }
he conceived that it might be settled to great advan¬
tage ; and, without so much as expecting the thanks
of those for whom he laboured, he began to execute!
this great design. His first step was to bring over'
black !
M A U [ 25 1 M A X
fauritius. black boys from Madagascar, whom lie carefully trained
—y up in good principles, and in continual exercise j by
which he rendered them so good soldiers, that he very
quickly obliged the Marones, or wild negroes, either to
submit or to quit the island: he taught the planters to
cultivate their lands to advantage $ he, by an aqueduct,
brought fresh water to the sea side *, and whereas they
had not so much as a boat at his coming thither, he
made a very fine dock, where he not only built sloops
and large vessels, hut even a ship of the burden of 500
tons. However incredible it may seem, yet it is cer¬
tainly fact, that in the space of five years he converted
this country into a paradise, that had been a mere
wilderness for 5COO5 and this in spite of the inhabitants,
and of the company, who being originally prejudiced
by them, behaved ill to him at his return. He soon
made the cardinal de Fleury, however, sensible of the
true state of things 5 and compelled the company to
acknowledge, though they did not reward, his services.
He afterwards returned into the Indies, and perfected
the work he had begun, and to him it is owing that
the isle of France was rendered one of the finest and
most important spots upon the globe. Here no coffee
is raised 5 but by the indefatigable industry of M. de
Bourdonnais, sugar, indigo, pepper, and cotton (which
are not at Bourbon), came to be cultivated with
success. Since the departure of that most excellent
governor, the plantations have been neglected, and
are fallen off; but if a proper spirit of activity was
raised among the inhabitants, they might soon be made
to resume their flourishing appearance. Mines of iron
have been discovered in the mountains near the great
plain, in the north-east part of the island ; and these
mountains affording in great abundance the necessary
fuel, forges have been erected : but the iron produced
is of a very inferior quality, it being brittle, and only
fit for making cannon-balls and bomb-shells. Black
cattle, sheep, and goats, are preserved with difficulty 5
the first generally die before they have been a year
in the island, and this occasions frequent importations
of them from Madagascar and other parts. Common
domestic poultry breed in great plenty ; and, with fish
and turtle, furnish a great part of the food of the Eu¬
ropean inhabitants.
The approach to the island is extremely dangerous,
it being surrounded with ledges of rocks, and many
of them covered by the sea. The shore abounds with
coral and shells. This island is said to contain 60 ri¬
vers : some are considerable streams, and most of them
have their sources from lakes, of which there are seve¬
ral in the middle part of the island. The rivers afford
plenty of various kinds of fish, particularly eels. These
are of an enormous size, some having been found that
were six feet long, and six inches in circumference,
and so extremely voracious, that it is dangerous to
bathe in those parts of the river where they lie, as
they will seize a man without fear, and have strength
sufficient to keep him under water till he is drowned.
Here is a great variety of birds, and hats as large as
a young kitten: the inhabitants esteem them a deli¬
cate morsel. The air is both hot and moist, but not
unwholesome* The place abounds with insects, which
axe very troublesome y but thei’e ai-e no serpents. It
has been discovered, that off Fort Louis the south-
VOL. XIII. Part I,
cast wind generally blows with least strength about Maurftios
sunrise 5 and it also happens, on four or five days, at ||
intervals, in the course of a month, that early in the ^axentius,<
morning the wind ceases in the northern part of the v ' '
island for an hour or two, when a breeze rises, although
hut faintly, from the north-west 5 during which, a ship
stationed at the entrance of the channel to avail herself
of this breeze, may enter the harbour and attack thfe
forts.
This island, during the period of the French revo¬
lution, did not entirely escape from the storm which
then agitated the parent country. In the year 1799,
a conspiracy was foi-med, and broke out, for the pur¬
pose of resisting the government which had been esta¬
blished under the authority of the republic. It was,
however, soon suppi’essed by the activity of the civil
authorities, supported by the majority of the inhabit¬
ants.
The population of this island in 1799 amounted to
65,000, viz. 55,000 slaves, and 10,000 whites and
mulattoes. The following is a state of the produce of
this island in 1800 : viz. coffee, 6coo bales, of 100 lbs.
French 5 indigo, 300,000 lbs. from 2s. to 8s. per lb. 5
cotton, 2000 bales, of 250 lbs. 5 raw sugar, 20,000,000
lbs. 5 cloves, 20,000 lbs. The island of Mauritius, as
well as the other French islands in the Indian ocean,
were taken by the British in 1811 ; and their possession
was confirmed to Britain by the treaty of Paris in 1814.
MAURUA, one of the Society islands in the South
sea. It is a small island, entirely surrounded with a.
ridge of x’oeks, and without any harbour for shipping.
It is inhabited 5 and its productions are the same with
those of the neighbowing islands. A high round hill
rises in the middle of it, which may be seen at the
distance of 10 or 12 leagues. W. Long. 152. 32.
S. Lat. 16. 25.
MAUSOLEUM, a magnificent tomb or sepulchral
monument. The word is derived from Mausolus king
of Caria, to whom xMtemisia his widow expected a most
stately monument, esteemed one of the wonders of the
world, and called it, fi*oin his own name, Mausoleum.
St MAWES, a town of Cornwall, in England,
seated on the east side of Falmouth haven, in W. Long.
4. 56. N. Lat. 50. 6. Though hut a hamlet of the
parish of St Just, txvo miles off, without a minister, -
or either church, chapel, or meeting-house, it has sent
members to parliament ever since 1562, who are re¬
turned by its mayor or portreve. It consists but of
one street, under a hill, and fronting the sea, and its
inhabitants subsist pui’ely by fishing. K. Henry VIII.
built a castle here, opposite to Pendennis, for the better
security of Falmouth haven. It has a governor, a deputy,
and two gunners, with a platform ol guns. Here is a
fair the Friday after St Luke’s day.
MAXENTIUS, Marcus Aurelius Valerius, a
son of the emperor Maxinuanus Hercules, was, by the
voluntary abdication of Dioclesian, and of his father,
raised to the empire A. D. 306. He afterwards in¬
cited his father to resssume his imperial authority y
and in a perfidious manner destroyed Severus, who
had delivered himself into his hands, and relied upon N
his honour for the safety of his life; His victories
and successes were impeded by Galerius Maximianus,
who opposed him with a powerful force. The defeat
D f and :
M A X
Maxentius voluntary death of Galerius soon restored peace
’(I to Italy j and Maxentius passed into Africa, where
Maximus. ]ie rendered himself odious by his cruelty and oppres-
v vr—^ sJon> He soon after returned to Rome, and was in¬
formed that Constantine was come to dethrone him.
ilc gave his adversary battle near Home, and, alter
he had lost the victory, he fled back to the city. The
bridge over which he crossed the liber was in a de¬
cayed situation, and he fell into the river, and was
drowned, A. D. 312. The cowardice and luxuries of
Maxentius were as conspicuous as his cruelties. He
oppressed his subjects with heavy taxes, to.gratify the
cravings of his pleasures, or the avarice of his fa¬
vourites. He was debauched in his manners, and nei¬
ther virtue nor innocence were safe whenever he was
inclined to voluptuous pursuits. His body v'as de¬
formed and unwieldy. To visit a pleasure ground, or
to exercise himself under a marble portico, or walk
on a shady terrace, wTas to him a Herculean labour,
which required the greatest exertions oi strength and
resolution.
MAXILLA, the Jaw. See Anatomy, N° 2c—
26.
MAXIM, an established proposition or principle ; in
which sense it denotes much the same with axiom.
MAXIMILIAN I. emperor of Germany, signa¬
lized himself against the French while he was king of
the Romans, and after he was emperor entered into
the army of Henry VIII. of England as a volunteer
against that nation : he was a protector of learned
men, and abolished an iniquitous tribunal, styled Ju-
dicium occultum Westphalia: ; he composed some poems,
and the memoirs of his own life. He died in 1519,
aged 60.
MAXIMUM, in Mathematics, denotes the greatest
quantity attainable in any given case.
If a quantity conceived to be generated by motion
increases or decreases till it arrives at a certain mag¬
nitude or position, and then, on the contrary, grows
greater or lesser, and it be required to determine the
said magnitude or position, the question is called ^pro¬
blem de maximis et minimis.
MAXIMUS, a celebrated Cynic philosopher, and
magician, of Ephesus. He instructed the emperor
Julian in magic j and, according to the opinion of
some historians, it was in the conversation and com¬
pany of Maximus that the apostasy of Julian originat¬
ed. The emperor not only visited the philosopher,
but he even submitted his writings to his inspection
and censure. Maximus refused to live in the court of
Julian 5 and the emperor, not dissatisfied with the re¬
fusal, appointed him high pontiff in the province of
Lydia, an office which he discharged with the great¬
est moderation and justice. When Julian w'ent into the
east, the philosopher promised him success, and even
said that his conquests would be more numerous and
extensive than those of the son of Philip. He persuad¬
ed his imperial pupil, that, according to the doctrine of
metempsychosis, his body was animated by the soul
which once animated the hero whose greatness and vic¬
tories he was going to eclipse. After the death of
Julian, Maximus was almost sacrificed to the fury of
the soldiers } but the interposition of his friends saved
liis life, and he retired to Constantinople. He was
foon after accused of magical practices, before the em-
26 ] M A Y
peror Valens, and beheaded at Ephesus,
K. I). 566.
He wrote some philosophical and rhetorical treatises,
some of which were dedicated to Julian. I hey are all ^
now lost.
Maximus of Tyre, a Platonic philosopher, went
to Rome in 146, and acquired such reputation there,
that the emperor Marcus Aurelius became his scholar,
and gave him frequent proofs of his esteem. Ibis phi¬
losopher is thought to have lived till the reign of the
emperor Commodus. There are still extant 41 of bis
dissertations 5 a good edition of which was printed by
Daniel Hcinsius, in 1624, in Greek and Latin, with
notes.
Maximus Marius. See Marils.
MAY, the fifth month in the year, reckoning from
our first, or January j and the third, counting the
year to begin with March, as the Romans anciently
did. It wras called Mains by Romulus, in respect to
the senators and nobles of bis city, who were named
majores ; as the following month was called Junius, in
honour of the youth of Rome, in honorem jumorvm,
who served him in the w ar j though some will have it
to have been thus called from Main, the mother of Mer¬
cury, to whom they offered sacrifice on the first day of
it $ and Papius derives it from Madius, eo quod tunc
terra madeat. In this month the sun enters Gemini,
and the plants of the earth in general begin to flower.
—The month of May has ever been esteemed favour¬
able to love j and yet the ancients, as well as many
of the moderns, look on it as an unhappy month
for marriage. The original reason may perhaps be re¬
ferred to the feast of the Lemures, w hich w as held in
it. Ovid alludes to this in the fifth of his Fasti, when
he says,
Nec vidua: ta'dis eadan, ncc virginis apta
Tempera ; qua nupsit, non diuturna Juit;
Mac quoque de causa, si te proverbia tanguntv
Mense malum Maio nubere vulgus ait.
MAY-dew. See Dew.
MAY-duke, a species of clierry. See Prunes, Bo¬
tany Index.
May, Isle of, a small island at the mouth of the
frith of Forth, in Scotland, about a mile and a half
in circumference, and seven miles from the coast of
Fife, almost opposite to the rock called the Bass. It
formerly belonged to the priory of Pittenweem : and
W'as dedicated to St Adrian, supposed to have been
martyred in this place by the Danes 5 and hither, in
times of Popish superstition, barren women used to
come and worship at his shrine, in hopes of being
cured of their sterility. Here is a tower and light¬
house built by Mr Cunningham of Barns, to whom
King Charles I. granted the island in fee, with power
to exact twopence per ton from every ship that passes,
for the maintenance of a lighthouse. In the middle
of it there is a fresh-water spring, and a small lake. 
The soil produces pasturage for 100 -sheep and 20
black cattle. On the west side the steep rocks render
it inaccessible j but to the east there are four landing
places and good riding. It was here that the French
squadron, having the chevalier de St George on board,
anchored in the year 1708, when the vigilance of
Sir George Byng obliged him to relinquish his de-
Maximus
Mav
sign, and bear awray for Dunkirk. The
shores all
round
M A Y [
May round the island abound with lish, and the clifi's with
II water fowl.
layxine. May, Thomas, an eminent English poet and histo-
* nan in the lyth century, was born oi an ancient but
decayed family in Sussex, educated at Cambridge, and
afterwards removed to London. While he resided at
court, he wrote the five plays now extant under
his name. In 1622, he published a translation of \ir-
gil’s Georgies, with annotations ; and in 1635 a poem
on King Edward III. and a translation of Lucan’s
Pharsalia *, which poem he continued down to the death
of Julius Caesar, both in Latin and English verse.
Upon the breaking out of the civil wars he adhered to
the parliament j and in 1647, lie published, “ The his¬
tory of the parliament of England, which began No¬
vember the third, ISIECXL. vS ith a short and ac¬
cessary view of some precedent years.” In 1649, ^ie
published, Historic Parliamenti Anglice Breviurium,
in three parts ; which he afterwards translated into
English. He wrote the History of Henry II. in Eng¬
lish verse. He died in 1642. He went well to rest
over night, after a cheerful bottle as usual, and
died in his sleep before morning : upon which his
death was imputed to his tying his nightcap too close
under his fat cheeks and chin, which caused his suffo¬
cation •, but the facetious Andrew Marvel has written
a poem of 100 lines, to make him a martyr of Bacchus,
and die by the force of good wine. He was interred
near Camden in Westminster Abbey •, which caused
Dr Fuller to say, that “ if he were a biassed and par¬
tial writer, yet he lieth buried near a good and true
historian indeed.” Soon after the Restoration, his body,
with those of several others, was dug up, and buried in
a pit in St Margaret’s churchyard } and his monument,
which was erected by the appointment of parliament,
was taken down and thrown aside.
MAYER, Tobias, one of the greatest astronomers
and mechanics the 18th century produced, was born at
Maspach, in the duchy of Wirtemberg, 1723. He
taught himself mathematics, and at the age of four¬
teen designed machines and instruments with the great¬
est dexterity and justness. These pursuits did not hin¬
der him from cultivating the belles lettres. He ac¬
quired the Latin tongue, and wrote it with elegance.
In 1750, the university of Gottingen chose him for
their mathematical professor j and every year of his
short life was thenceforward marked with some consi¬
derable discoveries in geometry and astronomy. He
published several works in this way, which are all rec¬
koned excellent *, and some are inserted in the second
volume of the “ Memoirs of the university of Got¬
tingen.” His labours seem to have exhausted him ) for
he died worn out in 1762.
MAYERNE, Sir Theodore de, baron of Aul-
bone, was the son of Lewis de Mayerne, the celebrated
author of the General History of Spain, and of the
Monarchic aristo-democi atique, dedicated to the states-
general. He was horn in I573> ant^ ^or £°^“
father Theodore Reza. He studied physic at- Mont¬
pelier, and was made physician in ordinary to Hen¬
ry IV. who promised to do great things for him, pro¬
vided he would change his religion. James I. of Eng¬
land invited him over, and made him first physician to
7 ] M A Y
himself and bis queen, in which office he served the Mayerne
Avbole royal family to the time of his death in 1655. II
His works were printed at London in 1700) and l
make a large folio, divided into two books ; the first
containing his Consilia, JBpistolce, ct Obsci vat tones;
the second his Pharmacopoeia vaneeque mcdicamento-
rum for midiC.
MAYHEM. See Maim.
MAYNE, Jasper, an eminent English poet and
divine in the 17th century, who was bred at Oxford,
and entered into holy orders. While his majesty re¬
sided at Oxford, he was one of the divines appointed
to preach before him. He published in 1647 a
piece entitled oxaomaxia, or The people s war ex¬
amined according to the principles of reason and scrip¬
ture, by Jasper Mayne. In 1648 he was deprived of
his studentship at Christ church, and two livings he
had 5 but was restored with the king, who made him.
his chaplain and archdeacon of Chichester } all which
he held till he died. Dr Mayne was held in very
high esteem both for his natural parts and his acquired
accomplishments. He was an orthodox preacher,
and a man of severe virtue and exemplary behaviour;
yet of a ready and facetious wit, and a very singular
turn of humour. From some stories that are related
of him, he seems to have borne some degree of re¬
semblance in his manner to the celebrated Dr Swift v
but if he did not possess those very brilliant parts
that distinguished the Dean, he probably was less
subject to that capricious and those unaccountable
whimsies which at times so greatly eclipsed the abi¬
lities of the latter. Yet there is one anecdote re¬
lated of him, Avhich, although it reflects no great ho¬
nour on his memory, as it seems to carry some degree
of cruelty with it, yet it is a strong mark of his re¬
semblance to the Dean, and a proof that his propen¬
sity for drollery and joke did not quit him even in
his latest moments. The story is this: I he Doctor
had an old servant, who had lived with him some years,
to whom he had bequeathed an old trunk, in which
he told him he would find something that would make
him drink after his death. T he servant, full of ex¬
pectation that his master, under this familiar' expres¬
sion, had left him somewhat that would be a reward
for the assiduity of his past services, as soon as decency
would permit, flew to the trunk } when, behold, to his
great disappointment, the boasted legacy proved to be
a red herring. The doctor, however, bequeathed many
legacies by will to pious uses} particularly 50 pounds
towards the rebuilding of &t Paul’s cathedral, and . 2CO
pounds to be distributed to the poor of the parishes
of Cassington and Pyrton, near Wattington, of both
which places he had been vicar. In his younger years
he had an attachment to poetry; and wrote tw o plays, the
latter of which may be seen in the tenth volume of Dod-
sley’s Collection, viz. I. Amorous war, a tragi-comedy.
2. The city-match, a comedy. He published a poem
upon the naval victory by the duke of York over the
Dutch, printed in 1665. He also translated into
English from the Greek, part of Lucian’s Dialogues.
MAYNOOTH, or Manooth, a post town m the
county of Kildare, in Ireland, 12 miles from Dublin.
At this place there is a catholic college, established by
D 2
Mavo.
M AY [28
Maynootli tlie Irish parliament in 1795. Young men destined for
the catholic church had formerly gone to the continent
for tlieir education. This had now become nearly im¬
possible, in consequence of the war with France and
Spain 5 and for this reason, as well as to prevent those
foreign attachments which grow out of a foreign edu¬
cation, it was thought prudent to provide the means of
domestic instruction for the catholics. They had only-
petitioned for leave to establish a seminary •, but the
parliament also granted 8000I. per annum for its sup¬
port, which was afterwards enlarged to 13,000!.; but
has since been diminished. There were in 1808, eight
professorships and three lectureships ; and there was
accommodation for 200 students, to whom the establish¬
ment afforded commons and instruction.
MAYNWARING, Arthur, an eminent political
writer in the beginning of the 18th century, staid seve¬
ral years at Oxford, and then went to Cheshire, where
he lived some time with his uncle Mr Francis Chol-
mondeley, a very honest gentleman, but extremely
averse to the government of King William III. to
whom he refused the oaths. Here he prosecuted his
studies in polite literature with great vigour j and com¬
ing up to London, applied to the study of the law.
He was hitherto very zealous in anti-revolutional prin¬
ciples, and wrote several pieces in favour of King
James II.; but upon being introduced to the duke of
Somerset and the earls of Dorset and Burlington, be¬
gan to entertain very different notions in politics. His
father left him an estate of near 800I. a-year, but so
encumbered, that the interest money amounted to al¬
most as much as the revenue. Upon the conclusion of
the peace he went to Paris, where he became acquaint¬
ed with Mr Boilcau. After his return he was made
one of the commissioners of the customs, in which post
lie distinguished himself by his skill and industry. He
was a member of the Kit-cat club, and was looked
upon as one of the chief supports of it by his pleas¬
antry and wit. In the beginning of Queen Anne’s
reign, the lord treasurer Godolphin engaged Mr Donne
to quit the office of auditor of the imprests, and made
Maynwaring a present of a patent for that office worth
about 2000I. a-year in a time of business. He had a
considerable share in the Medley, and was author of
several other pieces. The Examiner, his antagonist
in politics, allowed that he wrote with tolerable spirit,
and in a masterly style. Sir Richard Steele dedicated
the first volume of the Tatler to him.
MAYO, one of the Cape de Verd islands, lying in
the Atlantic ocean, near 300 miles from Cape Verd in
Atrica, about 17 miles in circumference. The soil in
general is very barren, and water scarce: however, they
have some corn, yams, potatoes, and plantains, with
plenty of beeves, goats, and asses. What trees there
are, grow on the sides of the hills, and they have some
figs and water melons. The sea round about the island
abounds with fish. The chief commodity is salt, with
which many English ships are loaded in the summer
time. The principal town is Pinosa, inhabited by ne¬
groes, who speak the Portuguese language, and are
stout, lusty, and fleshy. They are not above 200 in
number, and many of them go quite naked. W. Long.
23- 5* N. Lat. 15. 10.
Mayo, a county of Ireland, in the province of Con-
]
MAY
naught, having Sligo and the sea on the north, Ros¬
common on the south, Leitrim and Roscommon on
the east, and the Atlantic ocean on the west. It u
contains 724,640 Irish plantation acres, 68 parishes,
and 140,000 inhabitants. It gives title of carl to
the family of Bourke. This county takes its name
from an ancient city, built in 664 ; the ruins of the
cathedral, and some traces of the stone walls which en¬
compassed the city, yet remain on the plains of Mayo.
It was a university, founded for the education of such
of the Saxon youths as were converted to the Christian
faith : it was situated a little to the south of Lough
Conn •, and is to this day frequently called Mayo of the
Saxons, being celebrated for giving education to Al¬
fred the Great, king of England. As this town has
gone to decay, Balinroke is reckoned the chief town.
The county by the sea is mountainous ; but inland has
good pastux-es, lakes, and rivers. It is about 62 miles
long, and 52 broad. Castlebar is the assizes town.—
Mayo was formerly a bishop’s see, which is now united
to Tuam,
MAYOR, the chief magistrate of a city or town,
chosen annually out of the aldermen. The word, an¬
ciently wrote meyr, comes from the British miret, i. e.
custodire, or from the old English mater, viz. potestas,
and not from the Latin major. King Richard I. in
1189, changed the bailiff of London into a mayor,
and from that example King John made the bailiff of
King’s Lynn a mayor anno 1204: Though the fa¬
mous city of Norwich obtained not this title for its
chief magistrates till the seventh year of King Plen-
ry V. anno 1419 } since which there are few towns
of note but have had a mayor appointed for govern¬
ment.
Mayors of corporations are justices of peace pro
tempore, and are mentioned in several statutes 5 but
no person shall bear any office of magistracy concern¬
ing the government of any town, corporation, &c. who
hath not received the sacrament according to the church
of England within one year before his election, and
who shall not take the oaths of supremacy, &c.
If any person intrudes into the office of mayor, a quo
warranto lies against him, upon which he shall not
only be ousted, but fined. And no mayor, or person
holding an annual office in a corporation for one year,
is to be elected into the same office for the next j in
this case, persons obstructing the choice of a successor
arc subject to look penalty. Where the mayor of a
corporation is not chosen on the day appointed by char¬
ter, the next officer in place shall the day after hold a
court and elect one j and if there be a default or omis¬
sion that wTay, the electors may be compelled to choose
a mayor, by a writ of mandamus out of the king’s
bench. Mayors, or other magistrates of a corpora¬
tion, who shall voluntarily absent themselves on the
day of election, are liable to be imprisoned, and dis¬
qualified from holding any office in the corporation.
Mayor's Courts. To the lord mayor and city of
London belong several courts of judicature. The
highest and most ancient is that called the hustings, de¬
stined to secure the laws, rights, franchises, and customs
of the city. The second is a court of request, or of
conscience ; of which before. 1 he third is the court of
the lord mayor and aldermen, where also the sheriffs
sit A
Mayo,
Mayor.
3
M A Z [ 29 ] M E A
Mayor sit *, to which may be added two courts of sheriffs, and
II. the court of the city orphans, whereof the lord mayor
[azanne.,; ^ aldermen have the custody. Also the court
’”"~V of common council, which is a court or assembly,
wherein are made all by-laws which bind the citizens
of London. It consists, like the parliament, of two
houses : an upper, consisting of the lord mayor and
aldermen ; and a lower, of a number of common
council men, chosen by the several wards as represen¬
tatives of the body of the citizens. In the court of
common council are made laws for the advancement of
trade, and committees yearly appointed, &c. But acts
made by them are to have the assent of the lord mayor
and aldermen by stat. 11. Geo. I. Also the chamberlain’s
court, where every thing relating to the rents and re¬
venues of the city, as also the affairs of servants, &c.
are transacted. Lastly, to the lord mayor belong the
courts of coroner and of escheator •, another court for
the conservation of the river Thames ; another ot gaol
delivery, held usually eight times a year, at the Old
Bailey, for the trial of criminals, whereof the lord
mayor is himself the chief judge. There are other
■ courts called wardmotes or meetings of the wards •, and
courts of halymote or assemblies oi the several guilds
and fraternities.
MAZA, among the Athenians, was a sort of cake
made of flour boiled with water and oil, and set as
the common fare, before such as were entertained at
the public expence in the common hall or Prytaneum.
MAZAGAN, a strong place of Africa in the king¬
dom of Morocco, and on the frontiers of the province
of Duguela. It was fortified by the Portuguese, and
besieged by the king of Morocco with 200,000 men in
1 $62, but to no purpose. It is situated near the sea.
\V. Long. 8. 15. N. Lat. 33. 12.
MAZARA, an ancient town of Sicily, and capital
of a considerable valley of the same name, which is very
fertile, and watered with several rivers. The town is
a bishop’s see, and has a good harbour 5 is seated on
the sea coast, in E. Long. 12. 30. N. Lat. 37. 53.
MAZARINE, Julius a famous cardinal and
prime minister of France, was born at Piscina in the
province of Abruzzo, in Naples, in 1602. After
having finished his studies in Italy and Spain, he en¬
tered into the service of Cardinal Sachetts, and became
well skilled in politics, and in the interests of the
princes at war in Italy; by which means he was
enabled to bring affairs to an accommodation, and the
peace of Queiras was shortly concluded. Cardinal
Bichlieu being taken with his conduct, did from
thenceforward highly esteem him ; as did also Cardinal
Antonio, and Louis XIII. who procured him a car¬
dinal’s hat in 1641. Richlieu made him one of the
^executors of his will 5 and during the minority of
Louis XIV. he had the charge of affairs. At last he
became the envy of the nobility, which occasioned
a civil war $ whereupon Mazarine was forced to re¬
tire, a price was set on his head, and his library sold.
Notwithstanding, he afterwards returned to the court
in more glory than ever ; concluded a peace with Spain,
and a marriage treaty betwixt the king and the in¬
fanta. This treaty of peace passes for the master¬
piece of Cardinal de Mazarine’s politics, and procured
him the French king’s most intimate confidence: but
at last his continual 'application To business threw him Mazarine
into a disease, of which he died at A incennes in |1
1661.—Cardinal Mazarine was of a mild and affable , Mead,
temper. One of his greatest talents was his knowing '
mankind, and his being able to adapt himself, and to
assume a character conformable to the circumstances
of affairs. He possessed at one and the same time the
bishopric of Metz, and tile abbeys of St Arnauld,
St Clement, and St Vincent, in the same city; that of
St Dennis, Clugny, and Victor, of Marseilles; of St
Michel at Soissons, and a great number of others. He
founded Mazarine college at Paris ; which is also
called the college of the four nations. There has been
published a collection of his letters, the most copi
ous edition of which is that of 1745, in 2 vols. duo¬
decimo.
MAZZUOLI. See Parmigiano.
MEAD, a wholesome, agreeable liquor, prepared
with honey and water.
One of the best methods of preparing mead is as fol¬
lows : Into twelve gallons of waiter put the whites of
six eggs ; mixing these well together, and to the mix¬
ture adding twenty pounds of honey. Let the liquor
boil an hour ; and when boiled, add cinnamon, ginger,
cloves, mace, and rosemary. As soon as it is cold,
put a spoonful of yest to it, and tun it up, keep¬
ing the vessel filled as it works ; when it has done
working, stop it up close; and, when fine, bottle it off
for use.
The author of the Dictionary of Chemistry directs
to choose the whitest, purest, and best tasted honey,
and to put it into a kettle with more than its weight
of water : a part of this liquor must be evaporated by
boiling, and the liquor scummed, till its consistence is
such, that a fresh egg shall be supported on its surface
without sinking more than half its thickness into the
liquor; then the liquor is to be strained and poured
through a funnel into a barrel; this barrel, which
ought to be nearly full, must be exposed to a heat as
equable as possible, from 20 to 27 or 28 degrees ot
Mr Reaumur’s thermometer, taking care that the bung-
hole be slightly covered, but not closed. I he pheno¬
mena of the spirituous fermentation will appear in this
liquor, and will subsist during two or three months,
according to the degree of heat; after which they wall
diminish and cease. During this fermentation, the
barrel must be filled up occasionally with more of the
same kind of liquor of honey, some of which ought
to be kept apart, on purpose to replace the liquor which
flows out of the barrel in froth. When the fermenta¬
tion ceases, and the liquor has become very vinous,
the barrel is then to be put into a cellar, and well
closed ; a year afterwards the mead will be fit to be put
into bottles. Mead is a liquor of very ancient use in
Britain. See Feast.
Mead, T)r Richard, a celebrated English physi¬
cian, was born at Stepney near London, where his
father, the Reverend Air Matthew Mead, had been
one of the two ministers of that parish ; but in 1662
was ejected for nonconformity, but continued to
preach at Stepney till his death. As Ml Mead had
a handsome fortune, he bestowed a liberal education
upon 13 children, of whom Richard was the eleventh.;
and for that purpose kept a private tutor in his house,
vh*.
M E A [ ,
Mead, 'vlio taught him the Latin tongue. At 16 years of
■—y-—> age Richard was sent to Utrecht, whore he studied
three years under the famous Groevius; and then
choosing the profession of physic, he went to Leyden,
where he attended the lectures of the famous Pitcairn
on the theory and practice of medicine, and Her¬
man’s botanical courses. Having also spent three
■yeai-s in these studies, he went with his brother and
two other gentlemen to visit Italy, and at Padua took
his degree of doctor of philosophy and physic in
1695. Afterwards he spent some time at Naples and
at Rome; and returning home the next year, settled
at Stepney, where he married, and practised physic
with a success that laid the foundation of his future
greatness.
In 1703, Hr Mead having communicated to the
Royal Society an analysis of Dr Bonomo’s discoveries
relating to the cutaneous worms that generate the
itch, which they inserted in the Philosophical Trans¬
actions ) this, with his account of poisons, procured
him a place in the Royal Society, of which Sir Isaac
Newton was then president. The same year he was
elected physician of St Thomas’s hospital, and was
also employed by the surgeons to read anatomical lec¬
tures in their hall, which obliged him to remove into
the city. In 1707 his Paduan diploma for doctor of
physic wras confirmed by the university of Oxford ;
and being patronized by Dr Radclifte, on the death
of that famous physician he succeeded him in his house
at Bloomsbury-square, and in the greatest part of his
business. In 1727 he was made physician to King
George II. whom he had also served in that capacity
while he wras prince of Wales •, and he had afterwards
the pleasure of seeing his two sons-in-law, Dr Nichols
and Dr Wilmot, his coadjutors in that eminent sta¬
tion.
Dr Mead was not more to be admired for the qua¬
lities of the head than he tvas to be loved for those of
his heart. Though he Avas himself a hearty Avhig, yet,
uninfluenced by party principles, he was a friend to all
men of merit, by Avhatever denomination they might
happen to be distinguished. Thus he was intimate
with Garth, Avith Arbuthnot, and Avith Freind; and
long kept up a constant correspondence Avith the great
Boerhaave, Avho had been his fellow student at Ley¬
den : they communicated to each other their observa¬
tions and projects, and never loved each other the less
for being of different sentiments. In the mean time,
intent as Dr Mead Avas on the duties of his profession,
he had a greatness of mind that extended itself to all
kinds of literature, Avhich he spared neither pains nor
money to promote. He caused the beautiful and splen¬
did edition of Thuanus’s history to be published in
I7I3» in seven volumes folio : and by his interposition
and assiduity, Mr Sutton’s invention of draAving foul
air from ships and other close places was carried into
execution, and all the ships in his majesty’s navy pro¬
vided Avith this useful machine. Nothing pleased him
more than to call hidden talents into light j to give
encouragement to the greatest projects, and to see
them executed under his own eye. During almost half
a century he Avas at the head of his business, which
brought him one year about seven thousand pounds,
and for several years between five and six thousand}
yet clergymen, and in general all men of learning,
1
o ] ME A
Avere welcoma to his advice. His library consisted Mead
of 10,000 volumes, of Avhich his Latin, Greek, and
oriental manuscripts, made no inconsiderable part. He 1——
had a gallery for his pictures and antiquities, Avhich
cost him great sums. His reputation, not only as a
physician, but as a scholar, Avas so universally esta¬
blished, that he corresponded Avith all the principal li¬
terati in Europe: even the king of Naples sent to de¬
sire a complete collection of his Avorks •, and in return
made him a present of the tAvo first volumes of Signior
Bajardi, Avhich may be considered as an introduction
to the collection of the antiquities of Herculaneum,
At the same time that prince invited him to his pa¬
lace, that he might have an opportunity of showing
him those valuable monuments of antiquity; and no¬
thing but his great age prevented his undertaking a
journey so suited to his taste. No foreigner of learn¬
ing ever came to London Avitbout being introduced to
Dr Mead ; and on these occasions his table was always
open, and the magnificence of princes was united Avith
the pleasures of philosophers. It Avas principally to
him that the sev'eral counties of England and our co¬
lonies abroad applied for the choice of their physi¬
cians, and he Avas likewise consulted by foreign phy¬
sicians from Russia, Pi mssia, Denmark, &c. He wrote,
besides the above Avorks, 1. A Treatise on the Scurvy.
2. Df variolis et morbillis dissertatio. 3. Medico sacra :
sice de Morbis insignioribus, qui in Bibliis memorantnr,
Commentarius. 4. Monita et Brcecepta medico. 5. A
Discourse concerning pestilential contagion, and the
methods to be used to prevent it. The Avorks he
Avrote and published in Latin Avere translated into
English, under the Doctor’s inspection, by Thomas
Stack, M. D. and F. R. S. This great physician,
naturalist, and antiquarian, died on the 16th of Fe¬
bruary 1754.
MEADOW, in its general signification, means
pasture or grass lands, annually mown for hay : but it
is more particularly applied to lands that are so Ioav
as to be too moist for cattle to graze upon them in
Avinter Avithout spoiling the sward. For the manage¬
ment and Avatering of meadoAvs, see Agriculture,
P- 435-
MEAL, the flour of grain. The meal or flour of
Britain is the finest and Avhitest in the Avorld. The
French is usually browner, and the German broAvner
than that. Our flour keeps aa-cII with us ; but in carry¬
ing abroad it often contracts damp, and becomes bad.
All flour is subject to breed worms ; these are white in
the white flour, and brown in that which is broAvn ;
they are therefore not always distinguishable to the eye }
but when the flour feels damp, and smells rank and
musty, it may be conjectured that they are there in
great abundance.
The colour and the Aveight are the tAvo things
Avhich denote the value of meal or flour ; the whiter
and the heavier it is, other things being alike, the
better it always is. Pliny mentions these two cha¬
racters as the marks of good flour ; and tells us, that
Italy in his time produced the finest in the world.
This country indeed was famous before his time for
this produce ; and the Greeks have celebrated it} and
Sophocles in particular says, that no flour is so white
or so good as that of Italy. The corn of this coun¬
try has, however, lost much of its reputation since that
time 3,
Meal.'
M E A [3
time ; asul the reason of this seems to be, that the
1 whole country being full of sulphur, alum, vitriol,
marcasites, ami bitumens, the air may have in time af¬
fected them so far as to make them diffuse themselves
through the earth, and render it less fit for vegetation 5
and the taking fire of some of these inflammable mi¬
nerals, as has sometimes happened, is alone sufficient to
alter the nature of all the land about the places where
they are.
The flour of Britain, though it pleases by its white¬
ness, yet wants some of the other qualities valuable
in flour ; the bread that is made of it is brittle and
iloes not hold together, hut after keeping a few days
becomes hard and dry as if made of chalk, and is full
of cracks in all parts; and this must he a great disad¬
vantage in it when intended for the service of an army,
or the like occasions, where there is no baking every
day, hut the bread of one making must necessarily be
kept a long time.
The flour of Picardy is very like that of Britain j
and after it has been kept some time, is found improper
for making into paste or dough. The French are
forced either to use it immediately on the grinding, or
else to mix it with an equal quantity of the flour of
Brittany, which is coarser, but more unctuous and fat¬
ty ; hut neither of these kinds of flour keep well.
The flour of almost any country will do for the
home consumption of the place, as it may he always
fresh ground ; but the great care to he used in select¬
ing it, is in order to the sending it abroad, or furnish¬
ing ships for their own use. The saline humidity of
the sea air rusts metals, and fouls every thing on board,
if great care be not taken in the preserving them. This
also makes the flour damp and mouldy, and is often
the occasion of its breeding insects, and being wholly
spoiled.
The flour of some places is constantly found to keep
better at sea than that of others •, and when that is
once found out, the whole caution needs only be to
carry the flour of those places. Thus the 1 rench find
that the flour of Poitou, Normandy, and Guienne, all
hear the sea carriage extremely well ; and they make
a considerable advantage by carrying them to their
American colonies.
The choice of flour for exportation being thus made,
the next care is to preserve it in the ships $ the keep¬
ing it dry is the grand consideration in regard to this j
the barrels in which it is put up ought to be made ol
dry and well seasoned oak, and not to be larger than
to hold two hundred weight at the most. If the wood
of the barrels have any sap remaining in it, it will moi¬
sten and spoil the flour ; and no wood is so proper
as oak for this purpose, or for making the bins and
other vessels for keeping flour in at home, since when
once well dried and seasoned it will not contract hu¬
midity afterwards. The beech wood, of which some
make their bins for flour, is never thoroughly dry, but
always retains some sap. The fir will give the flour a
taste of turpentine ; and the ash is always subject to he
eaten by worms. The oak is preferable, because of its
being free from these faults 5 and when the several
kinds of wood have been examined in a proper manner,
there may be others found as fit, or possibly more so,
than this for the purpose. The great test is their hav¬
ing more or Jess sap. See I'louii and Wood.
i ] M E A
MEAN, in general, denotes the middle between
two extremes : thus wre say the mean distance, mean
proportion, &c.
Mean, Arithmetical, is half the sum of the two ex¬
tremes, as 4 is the arithmetical mean between 2 and
r. c 2+6
6 ; for — — 4.
2
Mean, Geometrical, is the square root of the rect¬
angle, or product of the two extremes : thus,
v 1 X9=V9~3-
To find two mean proportionals between two ex¬
tremes : multiply each extreme by the square of the
other, then extract the cube root out of each product,
and the two roots will he the mean proportionals re¬
quired.
Required tw'o proportionals between 2 and 16,
2 X 2 X 16—64, and 3 Again,
3V,2X i6i=3v^5I2=8- 4 aml 8 therefore are the
two proportionals sought.
MEARNSSHIRE, a county of Scotland. See Kin¬
cardineshire.
MEASLES, a cutaneous disease attended with a
fever, in which there is an appearance ol eruptions
that do not tend to a suppuration. See Medicine
Index.
MEASURE of an angle, is an arch described from
the vertex in any place between its legs. Hence
angles are distinguished by the ratio of the arches, de¬
scribed from the vertex between the legs to the peri¬
pheries. Angles then are distinguished by those arches ;
and the arches are distinguished by their ratio to the
periphery. Thus an angle is said to be so many degrees
as there are in the said arch.
Measure of a solid, is a cube whose side is an inch,
a foot, or a yard, or any other determinate length. In
geometry it is a cubic perch, divided into cubic feet,
digits, &c.
Measure of velocity, in Mechanics, is the space pas¬
sed over by a moving body in a given time, lo mea¬
sure a velocity, therefore, the space must he divided in¬
to as many equal parts as the time is conceived to he
divided into } the quantity of space answering to such
a part of time is the measure of the velocity.
Measure, in Geometry, denotes any quantity assum¬
ed as one, or unity, to which the ratio ol the other ho¬
mogeneous or similar quantities is expressed.
Measure, in a legal and commercial sense, denotes
a certain quantity or proportion ol any thing bought,
sold, valued, or the like.
It is necessary, for the convenience of commerce,
that an uniformity should be observed in weights and
measures, and regulated by proper standards. A foot-
rule may be used as a standard for measures of length,
a bushel for measures of capacity, and a pound for
weights. There should be only one authentic stan¬
dard of each kind, formed of the most durable ma¬
terials, and kept with all possible care. A sufficient
number of copies, exactly corresponding to the prin¬
cipal standard, may be distributed lor adjusting the
weights and measures that are made for common
use. There are several standards of this kind both in
England
M E A [ 32 ] • M7. E M
Measure. F.nglaml and Scotland. See the article Weights and
~—' Measures.
If any one of the standards above mentioned be
justly preserved, it will serve as a foundation for the
others, by which they may be corrected if inaccurate,
or restored if entirely lost. For instance, if we have a
standard foot* we can easily obtain an inch, and ean
make a box which shall contain a cubical inch, and
may serve as a standard for measures of capacity. If
it be known that a pint contains 100 cubical inches,
we may make a vessel live inches square, and four
inches deep, which will contain a pint. If the stan¬
dard be required in any other form, we may fill this
vessel with water, and regulate another to contain an
equal quantity. Standards for weights may be obtain¬
ed from the same foundation ; for if we know how
many inches of water it takes to weigh a pound, we
have only to measure that quantity, and the weight
which balances it may be assumed as the standard of a
pound.
Again, If the standard of a pound be given, the
measure of an inch maybe obtained from it j for we
may weigh a cubical inch of water, and pour it into a
regular vessel; and having noticed how far it is filled,
we may make another vessel of like capacity in the
form of a cube. The side of this vessel may be as¬
sumed as the standard for an inch } and standards for
afoot, a pint, or a bushel, maybe obtained from it.
Water is the most proper substance for regulating stan¬
dards ; for all other bodies differ in weight from others
of the same kind } whereas it is found by experience
that spring and river water, rain, and melted snow, and
all other kinds, have the same weight} and this uni¬
formly holds in all countries when the water is pure,
alike warm, and free from salt and minerals.
Thus, any one standard is sufficient for restoring all
the rest. It may further be desired to hit on some ex¬
pedient, if possible, for restoring the standards, in case
that all ol them should ever fall into disorder, or should
be forgotten, through the length of time, and the vi¬
cissitudes of human affairs. This-seems difficult, as no
words can convey a precise idea of a foot-rule, or a
pound weight. Measures, assumed from the dimen¬
sions of the human body, as a foot, a hand-breadth,
or a pace, must nearly be the same in all ages, unless
the size of the human race undergo some change •, and
therefore, if we know how many square feet a Homan
acre contained, we may form some judgment of the
nature of the law which restricted the property of a
Homan citizen to seven acres j and this is sufficient to
render history intelligible ) but it is too inaccurate to
regulate measures for commercial purposes. The same
may be said of standards, deduced from the measure of
a barley-corn, or the weight of a grain of wheat. If
the distance of two mountains be accurately measured
and recorded, the nature of the measure used will be
preserved in a more permanent manner than by any
standard } for if ever that measure fall into disuse, and
another be substituted in its place, the distance may be
measured again, and the proportion of the standards
snay be ascertained by comparing the new and ancient
distances.
But the most accurate and unchangeable manner of
establishing standards is, by comparing them with the
length of pendulums, The longer a pendulum is? it
vibrates the slower j and it must have one precise length Measure-,
in order to vibrate in a second. The slightest differ- ' —■
ence in length will occasion a diflereuce in the time j
•which will become abundantly sensible after a number
of vibrations, and will be easily observed if the pendu¬
lum be applied to regulate the motion of a clock. rl he
length of a pendulum which vibrates seconds in Lon¬
don is about 394 inches, is constantly the same at the
same place, but it varies a little with the latitude of
the place, being shorter as the latitude is less. There¬
fore, though all standards of weights and measures
were lost,, the length of a second pendulum might he
found by repeated trials : and if the pendulum be pro¬
perly divided, the just measure of an inch will be ob¬
tained y and from this all other standards may be re¬
stored. See Whitehurst on Invariable Measures.
Measures are various, according to the various kinds
and dimensions of the things measured.—Hence arise
lineal or longitudinal measures, for lines or lengths y
square measures, for areas or superfices j and solid or
cubic measures, for bodies and their capacities j all
which again are very different in dift’erent countries anti
in different ages, and even many ef them for different
commodities. Whence arise other divisions of ancient
and modern measures, domestic and foreign ones, dry
measures, liquid measures, &c.
L Long Measures, or Measures of Application.
1. ] The English and Scotch Standards.
The English lineal standard is the yard, containing
3 English feet; equal to 3 Paris feet 1 inch and XV
of an inch, or ^ of a Paris ell. The use of this mea¬
sure was established by Henry I. of England, and the
standard taken from the length of his own arm. It
is divided into 36 inches, and each inch is supposed
equal to 3 barleycorns. When used for measuring
cloth, it is divided into four quarters, and each quar¬
ter subdivided into 4 nails. The English ell is equal
to a yard and a quarter, or 45 inches, and is used in
measuring linens imported from Germany and the Low
Countries.
The Scots elwand was established by King David I.
and divided into 37 inches. The standard is kept in
the council chamber of Edinburgh, and being compar¬
ed with the English yard, is found to measure 371-
inches j and therefore the Scots inch and foot are lar¬
ger than the English, in the proportion of 180 to 185 ;
hut this difference being so inconsiderable, is seldom
attended to in practice. The Scots ell, though for¬
bidden by law, is still used lor measuring some coarse
commodities, and is the foundation of the land measure,
of Scotland.
Itinerary measure is the same both in England and
Scotland. The length of the chain is four poles, or 22
yards •, 80 chains make a mile. The old Scots com¬
puted miles were generally about a mile and a half
each.
The reel for yarn is 2X yards, or 10 quarters, in
circuit; x 20 threads make a cut, 12 cuts make a hasp
or hank, and 4 hanks make a spindle.
2. ] The Fi ench standard was formerly the aune or
ell, containing 3 Paris feet 7 inches 8 lines, or x yard x
English ; the Paris foot royal exceeding the English by
yfft? parts, as in one of the following tables. This
ell
ell is ilivuletl two ways j viz. into halves, thirds, sixths, The French, however, have also formed an entirely Measure,
and twelfths j and into quarters, half-quarters, and six- new system of weights and measures, according to the —v—*
teenths. following table.
Pi-oportions of the
measures ofeach spe¬
cies to its principal
measure or unity.
10,000
1,000
IOO
IO
o
0.1
0.01
0.001
First part of thename
which indicates the
pi’oportion to the
principal measure or
unity.
Myria
Kilo
Flecto
Deca
1
Dec!
Centi
Milli
f
Proportion of the principal measures |
between themselves and the length of <[
the meridian.
I
Value of the principal measures in the 7
ancient French measures. j
Value in English measures.
Length
Metr*
io,ooo,oootb
part of the di¬
stance from
the pole to the
equator.
3 feet i x lines
and 4- nearly
11x0116839.383.
Capacity.
Litre.
A decimetre
cube.
I pint and ,XV
or 1 litron and
^ neaidy.
61.083 inches
which is more
than the wine,
and less than
the beer quart.
Weight.
Gramme.
Wreight of a
centimetre
cube of distil¬
led water.
Agrarian.
For firewood.
Are.
loo square
metres.
Stere.
18 grains and
841,000
parts.
22,966
grains.
Two square
perches dex
eaux et foreit.
11.968
square yards
One cubic
metre.
1 demi-voie,
or of a cord
des eaux et
foret.
The English avoirdupois pound weighs troy grains
7004 j whence the avoirdupois ounce, whereof 16
make a pound, is found equal to 437*75 troy grains.
—And it follows that the troy pound is to the avoii'-
dupois pound as 88 to 107 neai'ly j for as 88 to
107, so is 5760 to 7003.636 . that the troy ounce is
lo the avoirdupois ounce, as 80 to 73 nearly ; for as
80 to 73, so is 480 to 438. And, lastly, That the
avoirdupois pound and ounce is to the Paris two marc
weight and ounce, as 63 to 68 nearly *, for as 63 to
68, so is 7004 to 7559-873. See Weight. The
Paris foot, expressed in decimals, is equal to 1.0654
■of the English foot, or contains 12.785 English inches.
See Foot.
3. ] The standard in Holland, Flanders, Sweden, a
good part of Germany, many of what were formerly
•called the Hans-totmis, as JJant'zick and Hamburgh,
and at Geneva, Frankfort, &c. is likewise the ell: but
the ell in all these places differs from the Paris ell.
in Holland it contains one Paris foot eleven lines, or
four-sevenths of the Paris ell. The Flandei's ell con¬
tains two feet one inch five lines and half a line j or
seven-twelfths of the Paris ell. The ell of Germany,
Brabant, &c. is equal to that of Flanders.
4. ] ihe Italian measure is the brantbio, brace, or
fathom. This obtains in the states of Modena, Venice,
Florence, Lucca, Milan, Mantua, Bologna, &c. but
Vol. XIM. Part I. t
is of different lengths. At Venice, it contains one
Paris foot eleven inches three lines, or eight-fifteenths
of the Paris ell. At Bologna, Modena, and Mantua,
the brace is the same as at Venice. At Lucca it cons
tains one Pai’is foot nine inches ten lines, or half a Pa¬
ris ell. At Florence, it contains one foot nine inches
four lines, or foi'ty-nine hundredths of a Paris ell. At
Milan, the brace for measuring of silks is one Paris loot
seven inches four lines, or four-ninths of a Paris ell:
that for woollen cloths is the same with the ell of
Holland. Lastly, at Bergama, the brace is one foot
seven inches six lines, or five-ninths of a Paris ell.
The usual measure at Naples, however, is the canna,
containing six feet ten inches and two lines, or one Pa¬
ris ell and fifteen-seventeenths.
9.] The Spanish measure is the vara or yard, in some
places called the bara; containing seventeen twenty-
feurths of the Paris ell. But the measure in Castile
and Valencia is the pan, span, or palm j which is used,
together with the canna, at Genoa. In Ai’ragon, the
vara is equal to a Paris ell and a half, or five feet five
inches six lines.
6..] The Fortuguese measure is the cavedos, contain¬
ing two feet eleven lines, or four-sevenths of a Paris
ell •, and the vara, an hundred and six whereof make an
hundred Paris ells.
7.] The Piedmontese measure is the ras, containing
E one
MEA [34] MEA
Measure. one Paris foot nine inches ten lines, or half a Paris
——Y—^ ell. In Sicily, their measure is the canna, the same
* 'with that of Naples.
8. ] The Muscovy measures are the cubit, equal to
one Paris foot four inches two lines} anti the arcin,
two whereof are equal to three cubits.
9. ] The Turkish and Levant measures are the picq,
containing two feet two inches and two lines, or three-
fifths of the Paris ell. The Chinese measure, the
cobre; ten whereof are equal to three Paris ells. In
Persia, and some parts of the Indies, the gueze, where¬
of there are two kinds ; the royal gueze, called also the
gueze monkelser, containing two Paris feet ten inches
eleven lines, or four-fifths of the Paris ell j and the shorter
gueze, called simply gueze, only two-thirds of the for- 5jcasur
mer. At Goa and Ormuz, the measure is the vara, the j
same with that of the Portuguese, having been intro¬
duced by them. In Pegu, and some other parts of the
Indies, the cando or candi, equal to the ell of Venice.
At Goa, and other parts, they use a larger cando, equal
to seventeen Dutch ells ; exceeding that of Babel and
Balsora by } per cent, and the vara by 64. In Siam,
they use the ken, short of three Paris feet by one inch.
The ken contains two soks, the sok two keubs, the keub
twelve nious or inches, the niou to be equal to eight
grains of x-ice, i. e. to about nine lines. At Camboia,
they use the haster ; in Japan, the tatam ; and the spaa
on some of the coasts of Guinea.
Tables of Long Measure,
1. English.
Barley-corn
Inch
27
54
108
180
216
12
18
36
60
72
594
23760
198
7920
19008063360
EJalm
3 Span
12
20
24
66
2640
21120
22
880
'040
Foot
6
16^
660
5280
Cubit
3l
4
11
440
3520
Yard
Si
220
1760
Pace
31 o
132
1056
Fathom
Pole
110
880
40
!20
Furlong
8 [Mile.
2. Scripture Measures reduced into English,
Digit
12
24
96
*44
[92
IQ 20
J9
Palm
24
36
48
480
Span
16
160
Cubit
80
Fathom
Ezekiel’s reed
Arabian pole
20
I3i
icjSchosnus, or measuring line
Eng.
feet.
r> Dec.
tr
O.912
3.648
IO.944
9.888
3-552
10 11.328
*4 7*104
*45 ii'04
3. The
M E A
M E A
Cubit
400
2000
4000
I 2000
960OO
IO
30
24O
48
[ 35 ]
3. The Scripture Itinerary Measures.
Eng. Miles. Paces. Feet.
0 0 1.824
o 145 4.6
o 729 3.000
- I 403 1.000
4 JS3 3-000
33 172 4.000
Stadium
Sabbath day’s journey
Eastern mile
Parasan
24
8 A day’s journey
4. Grecian.
Dactylus, digit
4 Doron, dochme
10 sfLichas
12
16
18
20
24
96
9600
7680c
4>
24
2400
9200
I To
9 T
960
7680
Orthodoron
Itt
2ti
8A
87 2 A
Spithame
—
if
8
800
6981A
6400
Foot
14
6
600
6800
Cubit
ifPygon
i4
5t
533t
42667
4i
480
3840
Cubic larger
Pace
400
3200
100
800
Furlong
8 (Mile
Paces. Feet,
o o
o o
0 o
o o
o o
O I
O I
O I
O I
o 6
100 4
805 5
Dec.
°-7554ts-
3-°218 i
7- 5546 v
8- 3101 tV
9.0656 i
0.0875
I-5984 -1-
3.109 |
6.13125
c>525
4-5
o
5. Roman.
Digitus transversus
Uneia
Palmus minor
Paces. Feet. Dec.
O O
16
20
24
40
80
10000
jSoooo
12
r5
40
7500
60000
o 0
o o
°-725i
0.967
2.901
10
20
2500
20000
Pes
o o 11.604
il
24
625
5000
Palmipes
14 Cubitus
500
4000
3t
4164
3333?
Gradus
Passus
25°
2000
rooo
125 Stadium
Milliare
o 1
o 1
o 2
o 4
120 4
967 o
2-505
5.406
5.01
10.02
4-5
o.
Measure.
E 2
6. Proportion
M E A
r 3C ]
M E A
rJcasurc. Pj'opovtion of several Long MeasiU'es lo each other,
ly J/. Picard.
The Rhinland or Leyden foot (12 whereof
make the Rhinland perch) supposed
The English foot
The Paris foot
The Amsterdam foot, from, that of Leyden, by
Snell ius - - -
The Danish foot ( two whereof make the Da¬
nish ell)
The Swedish foot
The Brussels foot -
The Dantzick foot, from TIevelius’s Selenogra-
phia
The Lyons foot, by M. Auzout
The Bologna foot, by the same
The braccio of Florence, by the same, and Fa¬
ther Marsennc - - 3
The palm of the architects at Rome, accord¬
ing to the observations of Messrs Picard and
Auzout - - _ _
The Roman foot in the Capitol, examined by
Messrs Picard and Auzout - 653 or 653V
The same from the Greek foot - 652
From the vineyard Mattel - - 657^
From the palm - 6584
From the pavement of the Pantheon, supposed
to contain xo Roman feet
From a slip of marble in the same pavement,
supposed to contain three Roman feet
From the pyramid of Cestius, supposed to con¬
tain 95 Roman feet
From the diameters of the columns in the arch
of Septimius Severus
From a slip of porphyry in the pavement of the
Pantheon - ,
See on this subject Phil. Trans, vol. iv. art. 69.
f>- 774-
696
675!
720
629
7°ito-
658;
609 j-
636
757f
843
290
^9i
653
650
6532
653;
653
7. Proportions of the Long Measures, of several nations
to the English foot, taken from Messrs Greaves, Au-
<ZiOUt, Picard, and Eisenchmid. See Foot.
The English standard foot being divided into 1000
equal parts, the other measures will have the proportions
to it, which follow.
Peet. Inches.
IOCO 12
1068 12.816
xi6x 13.944
I033 Js-SP6
952 14.424
1000 12
944 11-328
- 1042 12.504
977t ii-733
1824 12.888
3*97 38.364
2200 26.4
English foot
Paris foot
Venetian foot
Rhinland foot
Strasburgh foot
Norimberg foot
Dantzick foot
Danish foot
Swedish foot
Derahor cubit of Cairp
Persian arish
Greater Turkish pike
lrcet. Inches Measure.
Lesser Turkish pike - 2131 25-572
Braccio at Florence - 19I3 22.956
Braccio for woollen at Si enn 1242 14.904
Braccio for linen at Sienna 1974 23.688
Canna at Naples - - 6880 82.56
Vera at Aimaria and Gibraltar 2760 33.12
Palmo di Archtetti at Rome - 732 87.84
Canna di Archtetti - 7320 87.84
Palmo di braccio di mercantia 695 83.46
Genoa palm ^ 815 9.78
Bolognian foot - 125° *5
Antwerp ell - 2283 27.396
Amsterdam ell - - 2268 27.216
Leyden ell - 2260 27.12
Paris drapex-’s ell - 3929 47,I48
Paris mercer’s ell - 3939 47,244
8. Different Itinerary) Measures.
A French league is about 2^ English miles
A German mile 4 ditto
A Dutch mile $1 di.tto
An Italian mile - f ditto
- A Spanish league 34 ditto
A Russian verst 4 ditto
II. Square, Superficial, or Land Measure.
1. English square measures are raised from the yard
of 36 inches multiplied into itself, and thus produ¬
cing 1296 square inches in the square yard 5 the divi¬
sions of this ai’e square feet and inches ; and the mul¬
tiples, poles, roods, and acres. Because the length
of a pole is 5-f- yards, the square of the same contains
30J square yards. A square mile contains 640 square
acres. In measuring fens and woodlands, 18 feet arc-
general ly allowed to the pole, and 21 feet in forest
lands.
A hide of land, frequently mentioned in the earlier
part of the English history, contained about 100 ai’able
acres ; and 5 hides wex-e esteemed a knight’s fee. At
the time of the Norman conquest, there xvere 243,600
hides in England.
2. Scotch square or land measure is x-egulated by
the Scotch ell: 36 square ells — 1 fall, 40 falls rr I
rood, 4 i-oods ~ 1 acre.—The proportion between
the Scotch and English acre, supposing the feet in
both measures alike, is as 1369 to 1089, or nearly as
5 to 4. If the diffei’ence of the feet be regarded, the
proportion is as 10,000 to 7869. The length of the
chain for measuring land in Scotland is 23 ells, or 74
feet.—A husband-land contains 6 acres of sock and
scythe land, that is, of land that may be tilled with a
plough or mown with a scythe •, 13 acres of arable land
make one ox-gang, and four ox-gangs make a pound-
land of old extent.
3. French squai'e measures are regulated by 12
square lines in the inch square} 12 inches in the foot,
22 feet in the perch, and ICO perches in the ax-pent
or acre.
Tables
M E A
Tables of Square Measure.
i. English.
>7 ] M E A
justed thereto, and therefore exceeding the former in i
proportion of the avoirdupois tveight to troy
Inches
144
296
3600
39204
1568160
6272640
F eet
Yards
25
272^
:o890
4356°
3°i
1210
4840
Paces
10.89
435-6
i743-6
Poles
40
160
Rood
Acre
2. Grecian square measures were the plethron or acre,
by some said to contain 1444? hy others 10,000 square
feet and aroura, the half of the plethron. J lie aroura
of the Egyptians was the square 100 cubits.
3. Roman square measure reduced to English. The
integer was the jugerum or acre, which the Romans
divided like the libra or as: thus the jugerum con¬
tained
As
Deunx
Dextans
Dodrans
Res
Septunx
Semis
Quincunx
Triens
Quqdrans
Sextans
Uncia
Square
feet.
28800
26400
24000
21600
19200
16800
14400
12000
9600
7200
4800
2400
288
264
240
216
192
168
I44
120
96
72
48
24
§ cn
18
10
2
34
25
9
1
32
24
16
8
Square
feet.
21:0.0 c
183.85
117.64
51.42
257.46
191.25
1 2C.03
58.82
264.85
198.64
A32.43
66.21
the
]\ote, Actus major was 14,400 square feet, equal to a
semis; clima, 3600 square feet,equal to sescuncia; and
actus minimus equal to a sextans.
III. Cubical Measures, or Measures of Capacity, for
Liquids.
1. The English measures were originally raised from
troy weight: it being enacted by several statutes, that
eight pounds troy of wheat, gathered from the middle
of the ear, and well dried, should weigh a gallon of
w ine measure, the divisions and multiples whereof were
to form the other measures ; at the same time it was
also ordered, that there should be but one liquid mea¬
sure in the kingdom : yet custom has prevailed ; and
there having been introduced a new weight, viz. the
avoirdupois, we have now a second standard gallon ad-
weight. From this latter standard are raised two se¬
veral measures, the one for ale, the other for beer.
The sealed gallon at Guildhall, which is the standard
for wines, spirits, oils, &c. is supposed to contain 23!
cubic inches ; and on this supposition the other mea¬
sures raised therefrom will contain as in the table un¬
derneath : yet, by actual experiment, made in 1688,
before the lord mayor and the commissioners oi excise,
this gallon was found to contain only 224 cubic inches:
it was, however, agreed to continue the common sup¬
posed contents of 231 cubic inches : so that all com¬
putations stand on their own footing. Hence, as 12 is
to 231, so is 144^ to 2814 the cubic inches in the ale
gallon : but in effect the ale quart contains 7°'?r cubic
inches, on which principle the ale and beer gallon wrilt
he 282 cubic inches. The several divisions and mul¬
tiples of these measures, and their proportions, are ex¬
hibited in the tables underneath.
The barrel for ale m London is 32 gallons, and thc^
barrel for beer 36 gallons. In all other places of
England, the barrel, both for ale and beer, is 34
gallons.
2. Scotch liquid measure is founded on the pint.
The Scotch pint was formerly regulated hy a standard
jug of cast metal, the custody of which wras committed
to the borough of Stirling. This jug was supposed
to contain 105 cubic inches ; and though, after several
careful trials, it has been found to contain only about
103A inches ; yet, in compliance with established cu¬
stom, founded on that opinion, the pint stoups are still
regulated to contain 105 inches, and the customary
ale measures are about -jY above that standard. It was
enacted hy James I. of Scotland, that the pint shouli.
contain 41 ounces trone weight of the clear water of
Tay, and hy James VI. that it should contain 55 Scots
troy ounces of the clear water of Leith. This affords
another method of regulating the pint, and also ascer 1
tains the ancient standard of the trone weight. As the
water of Tay and Leith is alike, the trone weight
must have been to the Scots troy -weight as 55 to 41 ;
and therefore the pound trone must have contained
about 2iv ounces Scots troy.
4 gills = 1 mutchkin.
2 mutchkins = 1 chopin.
2 chopins = 1 pint.
2 pints = 1 quart.
4 quarts = 1 gallon.
The Scotch quart contains 21 o inches; and is, there¬
fore, about less than the English ivine gallon, and
about less than the ale gallon.
3. As to the liquid measures of foreign nations, it
is to be observed, that their several vessels for wine,
vinegar, &c. have also various denominations accord¬
ing to their different sizes and the places wherein
they are used. The woeders of Germany, for hold¬
ing Rhenish and Moselle wines, are different in then-
gauges ; some containing 14 aumes of Amsterdam
measure, and others more or less. T he aume is reckon¬
ed at Amsterdam for 8 steckans, or 20 verges, or for
-J- of a tun of 2 pipes, or 4 barrels, of French or Bour-
deauv, which £ at this latter place is called tierpn,
because
M E A
[ 38 ]
M E A
Measure,
because 3 of them make a pipe or 2 barrels, and 6 the
-'said tun. The steckan is 16 mingles, or 32 pints j
and the verge is, in respect of the said Rhenish and
Moselle, and some other sorts of wine, 6 mingles 5
but, in measuring brandy it consists of 6^ mingles.
The aume is divided into 4 anckers, and the ancker
into 2 steckans, or 32 mingles. The ancker is taken
sometimes for of a tun, or 4 barrels ; on which
footing the Bourdeaux barrel ought to contain at
Amsterdam (when the cask is made according to the
just gauge) 12J steckans, or 200 mingles, wine and
lees ; or 12 steckans, or 192 mingles, racked wine ;
so that the Bourdeaux tun of wine contains 50 steckans,
or 800 mingles, wine and lees j and 48 steckans, or
768 mingles, of pure wine. The barrels or poin^ons
of Nantes and other places on the river Loire, con¬
tain only 12 steckans, Amsterdam measure. The wine
tun of Rochelle, Cogniac, Charente, and the isle of
Rhe, differs very little from the tun of Bourdeaux, and
consequently from the barrels and pipes. A tun of
wine of Chalosse, Bayonne, and the neighbouring
places, is reckoned 60 steckans, and the barrel 15,
Amsterdam measure.
The muid of Paxis contains 150 quai’ts or 300 pints,
wine and lees ; or 280 pints clear wine 5 of which
muids 3 make a tun, and the fractions are,
r jo
of
30 Veertels
30 Verges
27 Verges
J
At Rochelle, Cogniac, the is]e of Rhe,
and the country of Aunis, 27 Veertels
At Nantes, and several places of Bre¬
tagne and Anjou - - 29 Veertels
At Bouixleaux, and different parts of
Guienne - - - - 32 Verges
At Amsterdam, and other cities
Holland , - - -
At Hamburgh and Lubeck
At Embden - - - _7 __o__ ^
In Provence and Languedoc, brandy is sold by the
quintal, the casks included j and at Bruges in Flan¬
ders, the verges are called sesters of 16 stops each, and
the spix-its is sold at so much per stop.
Olive oil is also shipped in casks of various sizes,
according to the custom of the places where it is em¬
barked, and the conveniency of stowage. In England
it is sold by the tun of 236 gallons ; and at Amster¬
dam by the tun of 7x7 mingles, or 1434 pints. In
Provence it is sold by milleroles of 66 Paris pints
from Spain and Portugal it is brought in pipes or
butts, of different gauges j at the first place it is sold
by roves, where 40 go to the butt; and at the latter
place by almoudas, whereof 26 make a pipe. Train
oil is sold in England by the tun, at Amsterdam bv
the barrel.
The muid
The setier
The quart
The pint
The chopin {
The demi-setier J
36 setiers
4 quarts
;= j 2 pints
-5 1 2 chopins
g { 2 demi-setieis
^ 2 poissons
The muid is also composed of pipes or poin^ons,
quarteaux, queves, and demiqueves 5 those poincons
of Paris and Orleans contain about 15 steckans Am¬
sterdam measure, and ought to weigh with the cask
6661b. a little more or less. In Provence they reckon
by milleroles, and the millerole of Toulon contains 66
Paris pints, or 100 pints of Amstei'dam, nearly, and
the Paris pint is nearly equal to the English wine
quart (a).
The butts or pipes from Cadiz, Malaga, Alicant,
Benecai'lo, Saloe, and Mataro, and from the Canax-ies,
from Lisbon, Oporto, and Fayal, are vexy diffex-ent
in their gauges, though in affreightments tlxev are all
reckoned two to the tun.
Vinegar is measured in the same manner as wine j
but the measures for brandies are different : these
spirits from France, Spain, Portugal, &c. ax-e gene-
j-ally shipped in large casks called pipes, butts and
pieces, accoi'ding to the places from whence they are
imported, &c. In France, bi'andy is shipped in casks
called pieces at Bourdeaux, and pipes at Rochelle, Cog¬
niac, the isle of Rhe, and other neighbouring places,
which contain some moi'e and some less, even from 60
to 90 Amsterdam vei-ges or veertels, according to the
capacity of the vessels, and the places they come from,
which, being reduced into barrels, will stand as fol¬
lows, viz.
Solid inches
Pint
281
231
4'5s
7276^
9702
4553
9279
29x06
58212
Tables of Liquid Measure.
1. English.
[7/ ific.~]
[44
8 Gallon
Rundlet
252
336
5°4
672
1008
201 6
18
42
63
84
126
252
2'j
3t
4t
l4
BaiTel
Tierce
rJ
1 2
2
3
6
Hogshead
14
Puncheon
Bxxtt or pipe
3 2 jTu?i.
Pints [Ate]
Gallon
Firkin
64
128
256
5*2
16
32
64
Kilderkin
2 Barrel
Hogsh.
4 2
Pints [Beer.]
Gallon
Firkin
Kilderkin
72
[44
288
57672
18
36
Barrel
2|Hogsh.
2. Jewish
(-') These are the old measures of France, the account of which, for the sake of comparison, is here retained.
Measure
i
M E A
[ 39 ]
2. Jewish reduced to English Wine Measure.
Caph
54
x6
32
96
960
og
4Cab
12
24! 6
72
720
180 6q
ffin
Seah
3
30
Bath, or Epha
Coron, or Chomer
3. Attic reduced to English Wine Measure.
Cochliarion
Cheme
2*
10
J5
60
120
720
8640
7t
3°
60
360
4320
Mystrone
Conche
24
48
288
3456
12
24
144
1728
Cyathos
Oxybaphon
12
72
864
4 Cotyle
2
8
48
C76
12
144
Xestes
—1
Chous
72
12 Metretes
4. Roman reduced to English Wine Measure,
Rigula
4
12
24
H8
288
1152
Cyathus
12
72
2304
460.80
288
576
11520
Acetabulum
Quartarius
Hemina
48
[92
384
24
96
192
76S0384
96
92c
Sextarius
Congius
Urna
24
48
96
8 2
160 40
Amphora
20 Culeus
M E A
r ,, S Solid
GalL S inches,
o o| 0.177
* o o|. 0.211
0 3t 0-844
1 2 2.533
24 5.067
- 7 4 I5-2
75 5 7-625
C/5
o.
Gal. Pints, g Dec.
BA
o t4o 0-°356A-
o 0.0712 |
2fV °-o89It
A 0.1784^
°-3 56x1-
o.
o
o
o
o
0,
o
10
•g-
I
■r
1
6
2
°-535 i
2.141 -§•
4.283
25.698
19.629
Gal. Pints, g- Dec,
o
cr
o o^V 0.117^-
o oA 0.469
o o f 0.704 ■§
o 0 1.40
o o 4 2.818
O I 5.636
O- 7 4.942
3 4 4 5-33
7 1 10.66
143 3 II-°95
IV. Measures
Measure.
M E A
Measure.
[ 4°
IV. Measure of Capacity for things Dhy.
1. ] English dry or corn measure. The standard for
measuring corn, salt, coals, '‘and other dry goods, in
England, is the Winchester gallon, which contains
2724 cubic inches. The bu^Tfel contains 8 gallons, 01
2178 inches. A cylindrical vessel, i8-| inches diame¬
ter, and 8 inches deep, is appointed to be used as a
bushel in levying the malt tax. A vessel ol these di¬
mensions is rather less than Sic A\ inchester bushel oi
8 gallons, for it contains only 2150 inches j though
probably there was no difference intended. 'Ihe deno¬
minations of dry measure commonly used, are given
in the first of the subjoined talifEs. I our Quarters corn
make a chaldron, 5 quarters make a wey or load, and
10 quarters make a ton. In measuring sea coal, 5 pecks
make a bushel, 9 bushels make a quarter or vatt, 4
quarters make a chaldron, and 21 chaldrons make a
score.
40 feet hewn timber make a load.
50 feet unhewn timber make a load.
32 gallons make a herring barrel.
42 gallons make a salmon barrel.
1 cwt. gunpowder makes a barrel.
256 lbs. soap make a barrel. ‘
10 dozen candles make a barrel.
12 barrels make a last.
2. ] Scotch dry measure. There was formerly only
one measure of capacity in Scotland ; and some com¬
modities were heaped, others straikrd, or measured ex¬
actly to the capacity ot the standard. rlhe method ol
heaping was afterwards forbidden^ as unequal, and a
larger measure appointed for such commodities as that
custom had been extended to.
The wheat firlot, used also for rye, pease, beans, salt,
and grass seeds, contains 21 pints 1 njptchkin, measured
by the Stirling jug. The barley firlot, used also for
oats, fruit, and potatoes, contains 31 pints.^ A differ¬
ent method of regulating the lirlot was appointed from
the dimensions of a cylindrical vessel. The diameter
for both measures was fixed at 19^ inches, the depth
7y inches for the wheat firlot, and rp-^ for the barley
firlot. A standard constructed by these measures is
rather less than when regulated by thq pint ; and as it
is difficult to make vessels exactly cylindrical, the regu¬
lation by the pint has prevailed, and the other method
gone into disuse.
If the Stirling jug contains £,034 inches, the wheat
firlot will, contain 2109 inches; which is more than 2
per cent, larger than the legal malj; bushel of England,
and about 1 per cent, larger than the Winchester bushel:
and the barley firlot. Avill contain 33.08 inches. The
barley boll is nearly equal to six legal malt bushels.
In Stirlingshire, 17 pecks are reckoned to the boll :
in Inverness-shire, 18 pecks: in Ayrshire the boll is the
same as the English quarter. And the firlots, in many
places, are larger than the Linlithgow standard.
3. ] French dry, are, the litron, bushel, minot, mine,
septicr, muid, and tun. The litron is divided into two
deinilitrons, and four quarter litrons, and contains 36
cubic inches of Paris. Ey ordonnance, the litron is
to be three inches and a half high, and three inches
10 lines broad. The litron for salt is larger, and is
I
] M E A
divided into two halves, four quarters, eight de*m- Mea^,
quarters, and 16 mesurettes. The French bushel rs 1 ^
different in different jurisdictions. At Pans it is di¬
vided into demibushels ; each demibushel into two
quarts ; the quart into twro hall quarts ; and the hall
quart into two litrons : so that the bushel contains 16
litrons. By ordonnance the Paris bushel is to be eight
inches two lines and a half high, and ten inches
broad, or in diameter within-side. The minot con¬
sists of three bushels, the mine of two minots or six
bushels, the septier of two mines or 12 bushels, and
the muid of 12 septiers or 144 bushels. The bushel
of oats is estimated double that of any other grain :
so that there go 24 bushels to make the septier, and
288 to make the muid. It in divided into four pico-
tins, the picotin containing two quarts, or lour litrons.
The bushel for salt is divided into two half bushels, four
quarters, eight half quarters, and 16 litrons : four bu¬
shels make a minot, 16 a septier, and 192 a muid.
The bushel for wood is divided into halves, quarters,
and half quarters. Eight bushels make the minot, 16
a mine , 20 mines or 3^^ bushels, the muid.
plaster, x 2 bushels make a sack, and 36 sacks a muid.
For lime, three bushels make a minot, and 48 minots
a muid. The minot is by ordonnance to be 11 inches
9 lines high, and 14 inches 8 lines in diameter. Ihe
minot is composed of three bushels, or 16 litrons :
four , minots make a septier, and 48 a muid. Ihe
French mine is no real vessel, but an estimation ol se¬
veral others. At Paris the mine contains six bushels,
and 24 make the muid ; at llouen the mine is lour bu¬
shels ; and at Dieppe 18 mines make a Paris muid.
The septier differs in different places : at Paris it con¬
tains two mines, or eight bushels, and 12 septiers the
muid. At Ilouen the septier contains two mines or
12 bushels. Twelve septiers make a muid at Rouen
as well as at Paris ; but 12 of the latter are equal to 14
of the former. At Toulon the septier contains a mine
and a half; three of which mines make the septier of
Paris. The muid or muy ol Paris consists of 12 septiers;
and is divided into mines, minots, bushels, &c. That
for oats is double that for other grain, i. e. contains
twice the number of bushels. At Orleans the muid is
divided into mines, but those mines only contain two
Paris septiers and a half. In some places they use the
tun in lieu of the muid ; particularly at Nantes, where
it contains 10 septiers of 16 bushels each, and weighs
between 2200 and 2250 pounds. Three of these tuns
make 28 Paris septiers. At Rochelle, &e. the tun con¬
tains 42 bushels, and weighs two per cent, less than that
of Nantes. At Brest it contains 20 bushels, is equal
to 10 Paris septiers, and weighs , about 2240 pounds.
See Tun.
4.] Dutch, Swedish, Polish, Prussian, and Muscovite.
In these places, they estimate their dry things on the
foot of the last, lest, leth, or lecht; so called according to
the various pronunciations of the people who use it. In
Holland, the last is equal to 19 Paris scptiei’s, or 38
Bourdeaux bushels, and weighs about 4560 pounds ; the
last they divide into 27 mudes, and the mude into four
scheples. In Poland, the last is 40 Bourdeaux bushels,
and weighs about 4800 Paris pounds. In Prussia, the
last is I33 Paris septiers. In Sweden and Muscovy
they measure by the great and little last ; the first con¬
taining 12 barrels, and the second half as many. See
M E A [ 41
Last. In Muscovy, they likewise use the chefford,
which is different in various places : that of Archangel
is equal to three Rouen bushels.
5.] Italian. At Venice, Leghorn, and Lucca, they
estimate their dry things on the foot of the stavo or
staio ; the staro of Leghorn weighs 54 pounds: 112
staros and seven-eighths are equal to the Amsterdam
last. At Lucca, 119 staros make the last of Amsterdam.
The Venetian staro weighs 128 Paris pounds : the staro
is divided into four quarters. Thirty-five staros and
one-fifth, or 140 quarters and four-fifths, make the last
of Amsterdam. At Naples and other parts, they use the
tomolo or tomalo, equal to one-third of the Paris sep-
tier. Thirty-six tomoli and a half make the carro, and
a carro and a half, or 54 tomoli, make the last of Am¬
sterdam. At Palermo, 16 tomoli make the salma, and
four mondili the tomolo. Ten Salmas and three-
] M E A
sevenths, or 171 tomoli and three-sevenths, make the Measure,
last of Amsterdam. c—y—
6. ] Flemish. At Antwerp, &c. they measure by the
viertel j 32 and one-half whereof make 19 Paris sep-
tiers. At Hamburgh, the schepel j 90 whereof make
19 Paris septiers.
7. ] Spanish and Portuguese. At Cadiz, Bilhoa, and
St Sebastian, they use the fanega ; 23 whereof make
the Nantes or Rochelle tun, or 9 Paris septiers and
a half: though the Bilboa fanega is somewhat larger,
insomuch that 21 fanegas make a Nantes tun. At Se¬
ville, &c. they use the anagoras, containing a little more
than the Paris mine j 36 anagoras make 19 Paris sep¬
tiers. At Bayonne, &.c. the concha •, 30 whereof are
equal to nine Paris septiers and a half. At Lisbon, the
alquiver, a very small measure, 240 whereof make 19
Paris septiers, 60 the Lisbon muid.
Tables of Dry Measure.
1. English.
2. Scripture Dry, reduced to English.
Gachal
20
Cab
36
120
360
l800
3600
Gomor
Seah
18
90
180
3f
10
5°
100
3°
Epha
Leteeh
jehomer,
10
or eoron
O O ofrs 0*03*
O O 2 | O.073
O O 5 tTo J*211
i o i 4*036
303 12.107
16 o o 26.500
32 o I 18.969
•I
V OL. XIII. Part I.
F
3. Attic
Measure.
M E A
C 42 ]
3. Attic Measures of Capacity for Things dry, reduced to English
Corn Measure-
Cochliarion
M E A
Tl O U
^ ^ r
10
Cyathos
Oxybaphon
60
120
180
8640864
li
12
4 Cotyle
12
5 76
M4
Xestes
Choenix
72
48 Medimnos
4, Roman Measures of Capacity for Things dry, reduced to English
Corn Measure.
Ligula ------
24
Cyathus
Acetabulum
Hemina
48
384
768
12
96
192
64
128
16
32
Sextarius
Semimodius
Modius
16
o
o
o
o
o
o
4
CO
r-C?
S3 O
£- *
o'. 2 76/5.
2.763 -f-
4-M4 f
16.579
15-1051
3-501
«
?r
o
o
o.
o
o
o
I
2-tr
5-S
o 0.0 r
O O.O^J.
o o f
O 8 f
O I
I o
o o
0.06
0.24
0.48
3-84
7.68
Measure,
Measubk of 1 Food for Firing, is usually the cord
four feet high, and as many broad, and eight long j
this is divided into two half cords, called and.
by the French membrures, from the pieces stuck up¬
right to bound them 5 or voyes, as being supposed half
a waggon load.
Measure for Horses, is the hand, which by statute
contains four inches.
Measure, among Botanists. In describing the parts
of plants, Tournefort introduced a geometrical scale,
which many of his followers have retained. They mea¬
sured every part of the plant; and the essence of the
descuption consisted in an accurate mensuration of the
whole.
As the parts of plants, however, are liable to va¬
riation in no circumstance so much as that of dimen¬
sion, Linnaeus very rarely admits any other mensura¬
tion than that arising from the respective length and
breadth ol the parts compared together. In cases
that require actual mensuration, the same author re¬
commends, in lieu of Tournefort’s artificial scale, the
following natural scale of the human body, which
he thinks is much more convenient, and equally ac¬
The scale in question consists of 11 degrees, which
are as follow: 1. A hair’sbreadth, or the diameter
ot a hair, (capillus). 2. A line, {lineci), the breadth
oi the crescent or white appearance at the root of the
finger (not thumb, measured from the skin towards
the body of the nail; a line is equal to 12 hairbreadths,
and is the 12th part of a Parisian inch. 3. A nail
(unguis), the length of a finger nail ; equal to six
lines, or half a Parisian inch. 4. A thumb (polkx),
the length of the first or outermost joint of the thumb ;
equal to a Parisian inch. 5. A palm (palmus), the
breadth of the palm exclusive of the thumb ; equal to
three Parisian inches. 6. A span (spit/iama), the di¬
stance between the extremity of the thumb and that of
the first finger when extended ; equal to seven Parisian
inches. 7. A great span (dodrans), the distance be¬
tween the extremity of the thumb and that of the
little finger, when extended ; equal to nine inches.
8. A foot (pcs), measuring from the elbow' to the
basis of the thumb ; equal to 12 Parisian inches. 9.
A cubit (cubitus), from the elbow to the extremity
of the middle finger; equal to 17 inches. 10. An:
arm length (brachiuni), from the armpit to the extre¬
mity of the middle finger; equal to 24 Parisian inches,
or two feet. 11. A fathom (orgya), the measure of
the human stature; the distance between the extremi¬
ties ot the two middle fingers, when the arms are ex¬
tended ; equal, where greatest, to six feet.
Measure is also used to signify the cadence and
time observed m poetry, dancing, and music, to render
them regular and agreeable.
The different measures or metres in poetry, are the
different
M E A [ 43 ] M E A
re different manners of ordering and combining the quan-
' i titles, or the long and short syllables. Thus, hexame¬
ter, pentameter, iambic, sapphic verses, &c. consist of
different measures.
In English verses, the measures are extremely vari¬
ous and arbitrary, every poet being at liberty to intro¬
duce any new form that he pleases. J he most usual
are the heroic, generally consisting of five long and
live short syllables; and verses of four feet j and of
three feet and a caesura, or single syllable.
The ancients, by variously combining and transpos¬
ing their quantities, made a vast variety ol different
measures. Of words, or rather feet of two syllables,
they formed a spondee, consisting of two long syllables j
a pyrrhic, of two short syllables j a trochee, of a long
and a short syllable j and an iambic, of a short and a
long syllable.
Of their feet of three syllables they formed a mo-
Jossus, consisting of three long syllables ; a tribrach, of
three short syllables 5 a dactyl, of one long and two
short syllables 5 and an anapa-st, of two short and one
long syllable. The Creek poets contrived 124 dif¬
ferent combinations or measures, under as many dif¬
ferent names, from feet of two syllables to those1' ot
six.
Measure, in Music, the interval or space of time
which the person who beats time takes between the
rising and falling of his hand or foot, in order to con¬
duct the movement, sometimes quicker, and sometimes
slower, according to the kind of music, or the subject
that is sung or played.
The measure is that which regulates the time we are
to dwell on each note. tSee 'l IME.
The ordinary or common measure is one second, or
60th part of a minute, which is nearly the space be¬
tween the heats of the pulse or heart; the systole, or
contraction of the heart, answering to the elevation of
the hand •, and its diastole, or dilatation, to the letting
it fall. The measure usually takes up the space that
a pendulum of two feet and a half long employs in
making a swing or vibration. The measure is regu¬
lated according to the different quality or value of
the notes in the piece j by which the time that each
‘note is to take up is expressed. The semibreve, for
instance, holds one rise and one kill •, and this is called
the uicasvrc or whole measure, sometimes the measure
note, or time note 5 the minim, one rise, or one fall j
and the crotchet, half a rise, or half a fall, there being
four crotchets in a full measure.
Measure Binary, or Double, is that wherein the rise
and fall of the hand are equal.
Measure Ternary, or Triple, is that wherein the fall
is double to the rise j or where two minims are played
during a fall, and but one in the rise. To this pur¬
pose, the number 3 is placed at the beginning of
the lines, when the measure is intended to be triple ;
and a C, when the measure is to be common or
double. This rising and falling of the hands was
called by the Greeks and S-scy*. St Augustine
calls it plausus, and the Spaniards compas. See Arsis
and Thesis.
Po wder Measures in Artillery, are made of copper,
and contain from an ounce to 12 pounds: these are
wry convenient in a siege, when guns or mortars are
loaded with loose powder, especially in ricochet firing, Measure
&c. II
MEASURING, or Mensuration, is the using a,
certain known measure, and determining thereby the
precise extent, quantity, or capacity of any thing.
Measuring, in general, includes the practical part
of geometrv. From the various subjects on which it is
employed, it acquires various names, and constitutes
various arts. Sec Geometry, Levelring, Mensu¬
ration, Trigonometry, tfcc.
MEAT. Sec Food, Diet, Drink, &c.
Amongst the Jews, several kinds of animals were
forbidden to be used as food, ’Ihe flesh with the
blood, and the blood without the flesh, were prohibit¬
ed j the fat also of sacrificed animals was not to be
eaten. Roast meat, boiled meat, and ragouts, were in
use among the Hebrews, but we meet with no kind
of seasoning cffccept salt, bitter herbs, and honey.—•
They never mingled milk in any ragout or hash, and
never ate at the same meal both meat and milk, butter,
or cheese. The daily provision for Solomon’s table
was 30 measures of fine wheat flour, 60 oi common
flour, 10 fat oxen, 20 pasture oxen, 100 sheep, besides
venison and wildfowl. See Luxury.
The principal and most necessary food among the
ancient Greeks, was bread, which they called egio?,
and produced in a wicker basket called x<mav. Their
loaves were sometimes baked under the ashes, and
sometimes in an oven. They also used a sort of bread
called merza. Barley meal was used amongst the
Greeks, which they called tuytpilM. They had a Ire-
quent dish called which was a composition of
rice, cheese, eggs, and honey, wrapped in fig leaves. -
The pvTTuloy was made of cheese, garlic, and eggs,
beaten and mixed together. Their bread, and other
substitutes for bread, were baked in the form of hol¬
low plates, into which they poured a sauce. Garlic,
onions, and figs, seem to have been a very common
food amongst the poorer Athenians. J he Greeks,
especially in the heroical times, ate flesh roasted 5 boil¬
ed meat seldom was used. Fish seems not to have
been used for food in the early ages of Greece. The
young people only, amongst the Lacedaemonians, ate
animal food; the men and the old men were support¬
ed by a Idack soup called pu/x £vp<>?, which to people
of other nations was always a disagreeable mess. Grass¬
hoppers and the extremities or tender shoots of trees
were frequently eaten by the poor among the Greeks.
Eels dressed with beet root were esteemed a delicate
dish, and they were fond of the jowl and belly of salt-
fish. Neither were they without their sweet-meats ;
the dessert consisted frequently of fruits, almonds, nuts,
figs, peaches, &c. In every kind oi food we find
salt to have been used.
The diet of the first Romans consisted wholly of
milk, herbs, and roots, which they cultivated and
dressed with their own hands j they also had a kind of
gruel, or coarse gross pap> composed ol meal and
boiling water j this served for bread And when they
began to use bread, they had none for a great while
but of unmixed rye. Barley-meal was eaten by them,
which they called polenta. When they began to eat
animal food, it was esteemed a piece of luxury, and
an indulgence not to be justified but by some particu-
M E A t 44 ] M E A
Meat, lar occasion. After animal food had grown into com-
Meath, man use, the meat which the)’ most frequently produced
'”v upon their tables was pork.
Method of Preserving Flesh-Meat without spices,
and with very little salt. Jones, in his Miscellanea
Curiosa, gives us the following description of the
Moorish Elcholle, which is made of beef, mutton, or
camel’s flesh, but chiefly beef, which is cut in
long slices, and laid for 24 hours in a pickle. They
then remove it out of those jars or tubs into others
with tvater 5 and when it has lain a night, they
take it out, and put it on ropes in the sun and air
to dry. When it is thoroughly dried and hard, they
cut it into pieces of trvo or three inches long, and
throw it into a pan or caldron, which is ready with
boiling oil and suet sufficient to hold it, where it boils
till it be very clear and red when cut. After this they
take it out, and set it to drain ; and when all is thus
done it stands to cool, and jars are prepared to put it
up in, pouring upon it the liquor in which it was fried ;
and as soon as it is thoroughly cold, they stop it up
close. It will keep two years 5 will be hard, and the
hardest they look upon to be the best done. This they
dish up cold, sometimes fried with eggs and garlic,
sometimes stewed, and lemon squeezed on it. It is very
good any way, either hot or cold.
MEATH, commonly so called, or otherwise East
Meath, to distinguish it from the county called JFest
Meath : A county of Ireland, in the province of
Leinster, bounded by the counties of Cavan and Louth
on the north, the Irish channel on the east, Kildare
and Dublin on the south, and West Meath and Long¬
ford on the west. It is a fine champaign country,
abounding with corn, and well inhabited. It returns
two members to parliamentand gives title of earl to
the family of Brabazan. It contains 326,480 Irish
plantation acres, 139 parishes, and 112,000 inhabi¬
tants. The chief town is Trim. This district being the
most ancient settlement of the Belgians in Ireland, the
inhabitants were esteemed the eldest and most honour¬
able tribe : from which seniority their chieftains were
elected monarchs of all the Belgae ; a dignity that was
continued in the Hy-n-Faillian without intermission,
until the arrival of the Caledonian colonies, under the
name of J uath de Danan, when Conor-Mor, chief¬
tain of these people, obtained, or rather usurped, the
monarchal throne, obliged Eochy Failloch, with se¬
veral of his people, to cross the Shannon, and establish
themselves in the present county of Roscommon, where
Crothar founded the palace of Atha or Croghan, a
circumstance which brought on a long and bloody wag
between the Belgian and Caledonian races, which was'
not finally terminated until the close of the 4th cen¬
tury, when the Belgian line was restored in the person
ot O’Nial the Great, and continued until Rriam Bo-
romh usurped the monarchical dignity, by deposing
Mai achy O’Malachlin, about the year 1001. Tuathal
letcthomar, by a decree of the Tarah assembly, sepa¬
rated certain large tracts of land from each of the four
provinces, where the borders joined together ; whence,
under the notion of adopting this spot for demesne
lands to support the royal household, he formed the
county or kingdom of Meath, which afterwards be¬
came the peculiar inheritance of the monarchs of Ire¬
land. In each of the portions thus separated from
the four provinces, Tuathal caused palaces to be creel¬
ed, which might adorn them, and commemorate the
name in which they had been added to the royal do¬
main. In the tract taken out of Munster, he built
the palace called Flachtaga, -where the sacred fire, so
called, was kindled, and where all the priests and druids
annually met on the last day of October; on the evening
of which day it ivas enacted, that no other fire should
be used throughout the kingdom, in order that all the
fires might be derived from this, which being lighted
up as a fire of sacrifice, their superstition led them to
believe would render all the rest propitious and holy;
and for this privilege every family was to pay three¬
pence, by way of acknowledgment to the king of
iVIunster. The second royal palace was erected in the
proportion taken out of Connaught, and wfas built for
the assembly called the convocation of Yisneach, at
which all the inhabitants were summoned to appear on
the 1st day of May, to offer sacrifice to Beal, or Bel,
the god of fire, in whose honour two large fires being
kindled, the natives used to drive their cattle between
them, which was supposed to be a preservative for
them against accidents and distempers, and this wras
called Bcal-Tinne, or Bel-Tine, or the festival of the
god of fire. The king of Connaught at this meeting
claimed a horse and arms from every lord of a manor
or chieftain, as an acknowledgment for the lands ta¬
ken from that province, to add to the territory of
Meath. The third was that which Tailtean ex-ected in
the part taken from Ulster, wdiere the fair of that
name was held, which wras remarkable for this parti¬
cular circumstance, that the inhabitants brought their
children thither, males and females, and contracted
them in marxiage, where the parents having agreed
upon articles, the young people were joined accoi’ding-
ly ; every couple contracted at this meeting paid the
king of Lister an ounce of silver by way of acknow¬
ledgment. The royal mansion of Tarah, formerly
destroyed by fire, being rebuilt by Tuathal, on the
lands originally belonging to the king of Leinster, was
reckoned as the fourth of these palaces; but as a fa¬
bric of that name had stood there before, we do not
find that any acknowledgment wras made fox- it to the
king of Leinster.
Meath, with CIonmacnois, is a bishop’s see, valued in
the king’s books at 373I. 7s. o^d. sterling, by an ex¬
tent returned anno 28th Elizabeth; but, by a former
extent taken anno 30th Henry VHI. the valuation
amounts to 373^ I2s. which being the largest and
most profitable for tlm king, is the measure of the first
fruits at this day. This see is reputed to be wTorth
annually 3400I. I here were formerly many epis¬
copal sees in Meath, as Clonard, Duleek, Kells,
I rim, Ardbraccan, Donshaghlin, Slaine, and Foure,
besides others of less note ; all these, except Duleek
and Kells, were consolidated, and their common see
was fixed at Clonard, before the year 1152; at which
time the divisions of the bishoprics in Ireland were made
by John Paparo, cardinal priest, entitled Cardinal of
kSt Lawrence in Damaso, then legate from Pope Eu¬
gene HI to the Irish. This division was made in a
synod held on the 6th of March in the abbey of Mel-
lilont, or, as some say-, at Kells : and the two sees of
Duleek and Kells afterwards submitted to the same
late. I he constitution of this diocese is singular, hav-
M E C [ 45 ] M E C
Meath ing no clean nor chapter, cathedral, or economy.—
|j Under the bishop, the archdeacon is the head ollicer, to
eeienas. vvhom? and to the clergy in general, the cevge cVelire
'~~'i ' issued while bishops were elective. The affairs cf the
diocese are transacted by a synod, in the nature of a
chapter, who have a common seal, which is annually
lodged in the hands of one of the body, by the appoint¬
ment and vote of the majority. The diocese is
divide.' into twelve rural deaneries.
Of Clonmacnojs, now annexed to Meath: There
is no valuation of this see in the king’s books ; but it
is supposed to be included in the extent of the see of
Meath, taken anno 30th Henry VIII. The chapter
of this see consisted anciently of dean, chanter, chan¬
cellor, treasurer, archdeacon, and twelve prebendaries,
but most of their possessions have fallen into lay
hands. At present the deanery is the only part of
the chapter which subsists, to which the prebend of
Cloghran is annexed, and he hath a seal of office, which
appears to have been the ancient episcopal seal of this
see. This see was founded by St Kiaran, or Ciaran,
the younger, in 548 or 549 ; and Dermod, the son of
Ceronill, king of Ireland, granted the site on which
the church was built.
West Meath. See Westmeith.
MEATUS au ditori us. See Anatomy, N° 144.
MEAUX, an ancient town of France, in the de¬
partment of the Seine and Marne, ivith a bishop’s see,
seated in a place abounding in corn and cattle, on the
river Marne, which divides it into two parts y and its
trade consists in corn, wool, and cheese. It sustained
a siege of three months against the English in 1421.
E. Long. 2. 58. N. Lat. 48. 58.
MECJENAS, or Mecoenas, C. Cilnius, a cele¬
brated Roman knight, descended from the kings of
Etruria. He has rendered himself immortal by his
liberal patronage of learned men and of letters ; and to
his prudence and advice Augustus acknowledged him¬
self indebted for the security he enjoyed. His fond¬
ness for pleasure removed him from the reach of ambi¬
tion*, and he preferred dying, as he was born, a Ro¬
man knight, to all the honours and dignities which
either the friendship of Augustus or his own popularity
could heap upon him. To the interference of Mecaenas,
Virgil owed the retribution of his lands ; and Horace
was proud to boast that his learned friend had obtain¬
ed his forgiveness from the emperor, for joining the
cause of Brutus at the battle of Philippi. Mecaenas
was himself fond of literature : and, according to the
most received opinion, he wrote a history of animals,
a journal of the life of Augustus, a treatise on the
different natures and kinds of precious stones, besides
the two tragedies of Octavia and Prometheus, and
other things, all now lost. He died eight years be¬
fore Christ} and on his deathbed he particularly re¬
commended his poetical friend Horace to the care and
confidence of Augustus. Seneca, who has liberally
commended the genius and abilities of Mecaenas, has
not withheld his censure from his dissipation, indolence,
and effeminate luxury. From the patronage and en¬
couragement which the princes of heroic and lyric
poetry among the Latins received from the favourite of
Augustus, all patrons of literature have ever since been
called Aleccenates. Virgil dedicated to him his Geor¬
gies, and Horace his Odes..
MECCA, an ancient and very famous town of Asia, Mecca.
in Arabia lelix 5 seated on a barren spot, in a V‘**“*‘~v 
valley surrounded with little hills, about a day’s jour¬
ney Item the Red sea. It is a place of no strength,
having neither walls nor gates *, and the buildings are
very mean. That which supports it is the resort of a
great many thousand pilgrims annually, for the shops
are scarcely open all the year besides. The inhabitants
are poor, very thin, lean, and swarthy. The hills
about the town are very numerous j and consist of a
blackish rock, some of them half a mile in circumfe¬
rence. On the top of one of them is a cave, where
they pretend Mahomet usually retired to perform his
devotions, and hither they affirm the greatest part of
the Alcoran was brought him by the angel Gabriel.
The town has plenty of water, and yet little garden-
stuff ; but there are several sorts of good fruits to be
had, such as grapes, melons, water melons, and cucum¬
bers. There are also plenty of sheep brought thither
to be sold to the pilgrims. It stands in a very hot cli¬
mate ; and the inhabitants usually sleep on the tops of
their houses for the sake of coolness. In order to pro¬
tect themselves from the heat through the day, they
carefully shut the w indows, and water the streets to re¬
fresh the air. There have been instances of persons suf¬
focated in the middle of the town by the burning wind
called Simoomi
As a great number of the people of distinction in
the province of Hedsjas stay in the city, it is better
built than any other in Arabia. Amongst the beauti¬
ful edifices it contains, the most remarkable is the fa¬
mous Kaba or Caaba, “ The house of God,” which
was held in great veneration by the Arabs even before
Mahomet’s time,
No Christian dares go to Mecca y not that the ap¬
proach to it is prohibited by any express law, or that
the sensible part of the Mahometans have any thi g
to object to it y but on account of the prejudices of
the people, who regarding this ground as sacred, tb nk
Christians unworthy^ of setting their foot on it; it
would be profaned in the opinion of the supers! i-
ous, if it was trod upon by infidels. The people even
believe, that Christians are prevented from approach¬
ing by some supernatural power ; and they tell the
story of an infidel, who having got so far as the hills
that surround Mecca, all the dogs of the city came
out and fell upon him; and who, being struck with
this miracle, and the august appearance of the Kaba,
immediately became a mussulman. It is therefore to
be presumed that all the Europeans who describe
Mecca as eye-witnesses, have been renegadoes escaped
from Turkey. A recent example confirms this suppo¬
sition. On the promise of being allowed to preserve
his religion, a French surgeon was prevailed on to ac¬
company the Emir Hadsji to Mecca, in quality of phy¬
sician } but at the very first station, he was forced to
submit to circumcision, and then he was permitted to
continue his journey.
Although the Mahometans do not allow Europeans
to go to Mecca, they do not refuse to give them de¬
scriptions of the Kaba, and information with regard to
that building 5 and there are persons who gain their
bread by making designs and little pictures of the Kaba,
and selling them to pilgrims. See Caaba.
The Mahometans have so high an opinion of the
sanctity.
M E C [ 46 ] M E C
sanctity of Mecca, that they extend it to the places
in the neighbourhood. rIhe territory 01 that city is
held sacred to certain distances, which are indicated by
particular marks. Every caravan finds hi its road a
similar mark, which gives notice to the pilgrims when
they arc to put on the modest garb in which they must
appear in those sacred regions. Every raussulman is
obliged to go once in his life at least to Mecca, to
perform his devotions there. If that law was rigour-
ously enforced, the concourse of pilgrims would he
prodigious, and the city would never he able to con¬
tain the multitudes from all the countries where the
Mahometan religion prevails. V\ e must therefore,
suppose, that devotees alone perform this duty, and
that the others can easily dispense with it. Those
whose circumstances do not permit a long absence,
have the liberty of going to Mecca hy a substitute.—-
A hired pilgrim, however, cannot go for more than
one person at a time; and he must, to prevent frauds,
bring an attestation in proper form, from an imam of
Mecca, that he has performed the requisite devotions
on behalf of such a person, either alive or dead ■, lor,
after the decease of a person who has not obeyed the
law during his life, he is still obliged to perform the
journey by proxy.
The caravans, which are not numerous, when we
consider the immense multitude of the faithful, are
composed of many people ivho do not make the jour¬
ney for purposes of devotion. These are merchants,
who think they can transport their merchandises with
more safety, and dispose of them more easily *, and
•contractors of every kind, who furnish the pilgrims
and the soldiers who escort the caravans, with necessa¬
ries. Thus it happens, that many people have gone
often to Mecca, solely from views of interest. The
most considerable of those caravans is that of Syria,
commanded by the pacha of Damascus. It joins at
some distance the second from Egypt, ivhich is con¬
ducted by a hey, who takes the title of Emir Hadsji.
One comes from Yemen, and another, less numerous,
from the country of Lachsa. Some scattered pilgrims
arrive by the lied sea from the Indies, and from the
Arabian establishments on the coasts of Africa. The
Persians come in that which departs from Bagdad 5 the
place of conductor to this last is bestowed by the pacha,
and is very lucrative, for he receives the ransoms of the
heretical Persians.
It is of consequence to a pilgrim to arrive early at
the holy places. Without having been present from
the beginning at all the ceremonies, and without hav¬
ing performed every particular act of devotion, a man
cannot acquire the title of Hadsji: this is an honour
very much coveted by the Turks, for it confers real
advantages, and makes those who attain it to be much
respected. Its infrequency, however, in the Maho¬
metan dominions, shows how much the observation of
the law commanding pilgrimages is neglected. A si¬
milar custom prevails among the Oriental Christians,
who are exceedingly emulous of the title of Hadsji,
or Mokdasi, which is given to pilgrims of their com¬
munion. In order to acquire this title, it is not suffi¬
cient that the person has made the journey to Jerusa¬
lem he must also have kept the passover in that city,
and have assisted at all the ceremonies of the holy weeks.
3
After all tire essential ceremonies are over, the pa- Meera,
orirns next morning move to a place w’hcre they say Meelmni.
Abraham went to oiler up his son Isaac, which is _
about two or three miles from Mecca : here they pitch
their tents, and then throw seven small stones against
a little square stone building. This, as they affirm, is
performed in defiance of the devil. Every one then
purchases a sheep, which is brought for that purpose,
eating some of it themselves, and giving the rest to the
poor people who attend upon that occasion. Indeed
these are miserable objects, and such starved creatures,
that they seem ready to devour each other. After all,
•one w ould imagine that tins was a very sanctified place j,
and yet a renegado wlm went in pilgrimage thither,
affirms there is as much debauchery practised here as
in any part of the Turkish dominions. It is 25 miles
from Jodda, the sea port town of Mecca, and 220
south-east of Medina. E. Long. 40. 55. N. Lat.
2I-45- . ,
MECHANICAL, an epithet applied to whatever
relates to mechanics : Thus we say, mechanical powers,
causes, &c. See the articles Power, Cause, &c.
The mechanical philosophy is the same with what is
otherwise called corpuscular philosophy, which explains
the phenomena of nature, and the operations of corpo¬
real things, on the principles of mechanics j viz. the
motion, gravity, arrangement, disposition, greatness or
smallness, of the parts which compose natural bodies.
See Corpuscular.
This manner of reasoning is much used in medicine 5,
and, according to Dr Quincy, is the result of a tho¬
rough acquaintance with the structure of animal bo¬
dies : for considering an animal body as a composition
out of the same matter from which all other bodies are
formed, and to have all those properties which concern
a physician’s regard, only by virtue of its peculiar con¬
struction ; it naturally leads a person to consider the
several parts, according to their figures, contexture,
and use, either as wheels, pulleys, wedges, levers,
screws, cords, canals, strainers, &e. For which pur¬
pose, continues he, it is frequently found helpful to
design in diagrams, whatsoever of that kind is under
consideration, as is customary in geometrical demonstra¬
tions.
For tire application of this doctrine to the human
body, see the article Medicine.
Mechanical, in mathematics, denotes a construc¬
tion of some problem, by the assistance of instruments,
as the duplicature of the cube and quadrature of the
circle, in contradistinction to that which is done in an
accurate and geometrical manner.
Mechanical Curve, is a curve, according to Descartes,
which cannot be defined by any algebraic equation j
and so stands contradistinguished from algebraic or geo¬
metrical curves.
Leibnitz and others call these mechanical curves
transcendental, and dissent from Descartes, in excluding
them out of geometry. Leibnitz found a new kind of
transcendental equations, where these curves are de¬
fined : but they do not continue constantly the same
in nil points of the curve, as algebraic ones do. See
the article Transcendental.
Mechanical Solution of a problem is either w’hen
the thing is done by repented trials, or when lines used
in
M E C r 47 J M E C
jeciiani- mthe solution arc not truly geometrical, or by organ!- which are used for raising greater weights j or over- Mechani¬
cal. cal construction. < coming greater resistances, than could be effected by caI-
—'T—* Mechanical Powers, are certain simple machines, the natural strength without them. See Mechanics.
MECHANICS.
dilution. I-TV/TECHANICS is the science which enquires into
the laws of the equilibrium and motion of solid
bodies j into the forces by which bodies, whether ani¬
mate or inanimate, may be made to act upon one ano¬
ther j and into the means by which these may be in¬
creased so as to overcome such as are most powerful.—
The term mechanics was originally applied to the doc¬
trine of equilibrium. It has by some late Avriters been
extended to the motion and equilibrium of all bodies,
whether solid, fluid, or aeriform ; and has been employ¬
ed to comprehend the sciences of hydrodynamics and
pneumatics.
HISTORY.
•ogress of 2. As the science of mechanics is intimately con-
actical nected Avith the arts of life, and particularly Avith those
eehames exist even in the rudest ages of society, the con-
"cients C Ruction of machines must have arrived at considerable
perfection before the theory ot equilibrium, or the
simplest properties of the mechanical poAvers, had en¬
gaged the attention of philosophers. We accordingly
And that the lever, the pulley, the crane, the capstan,
and other simple machines, Avere employed by the an¬
cient architects in elevating the materials of their
buildings, long before the dawn of mechanical science ;
and the military engines of the Greeks and Romans,
such as the catapultse and balistie, exhibit an extensive
acquaintance Avith the construction of compound ma¬
chinery. In the splendid remains of Egyptian architec¬
ture, which in every age have excited the admiration
of the Avorld, avc perceive the most surprising marks of
mechanical genius. The elevation of immense masses
of stone to the tops of their stupendous fabrics, must
liaAre required an accumulation of mechanical power
Avhich is not in the possession of modern architects,
•i.tole 3- The earliest traces of any thing like the theory of
; e first mechanics are to be found in the Avrkings of Aristotle,
lio at- jn some 0f his works we discover a ferv erroneous and
e'theor °^scui'e opinions, respecting the doctrine of motion, and
media- ^ie nature of equilibrium; and in his 28th mechanical
jcs. question he has given some vague observations on the
C. 320. force of impulse, tending to point out the difference be-
tAveen impulse and pressure. He maintained that there
cannot be two circular motions opposite to one another 5
that heavy bodies descended to the centre of the uni¬
verse, and that the \mlocities of their descent Avere pro¬
portional to their Aveights.
rdumedes 4' ^ notions of Aristotle, however, Avere so con-
vs the fused and erroneous, that the honour of laying the foun-
uudation dation of theoretical mechanics is exclusively due to the
theoreti- celebrated Archimedes, Avho, in addition to his inven-
‘c ,mec tions in geometry, discovered the general principles of
. C. 250. hydrostatics. In his two hooks, Tie Equipondcrantibus,
he has demonstrated that Avhen a balance Avith unequal
arms, is in equilibrio, by means of t\tra Aveights in its
opposite scales, these Aveights must be reciprocally pro¬
portional to the arms of the balance. From this gene¬
ral principle, all the other properties of the lever, and
of machines referable to the lever, might have been
deduced as corollaries y but Archimedes did not folloAV
the discovery through all its consequences. In de¬
monstrating the leading property of the lever, he lays
it doAvn as an axiom, that if the tAvo arms of the ba¬
lance are equal, the Iavo Aveights must also lie equal
Avlien an equilibrium takes place j and then sIioavs that
if one of the arms be increased, and the equilibrium
still continue, the Aveight appended to that arm must be
proportionally diminished. This important discovery
conducted the Syracusan philosopher to another equally
useful in mechanics. Reflecting on the construction of
his balance, which moved upon a fulcrum, he perceived
that the tAvo Aveights exerted the same pressure on the
fulcrum as if they had both rested upon it. He then
considered the sum of these tAvo weights as combined
Avith a third, and the sum of these three as combined
with a fourth j and saAV that in every such combination
the fulcrum must support their united Aveight, and there¬
fore that there is in every combination of bodies, and
in every single body Avhich may he conceived as made
up of a number of lesser bodies, a centre of pressure or
gravity. This discovery Archimedes applied to par¬
ticular cases, and pointed out the method of finding the
centre of gravity of plane surfaces, A\Thether bounded by
a parallelogram, a triangle, a trapezium, or a parabola.
The theory of the inclined plane, the pulley, the axis
in peritrochio, the screw, and the Avedge, Avhich AVasfirst
published in the eighth hook of Pappus’s mathematical
collections, is generally attributed to Archimedes. It
appears also from Plutarch and other ancient authors,
that a greater number of machines Avhich have not
reached our times Avas invented by this philosopher.
The military engines which he employed in the siege
of Syracuse against those of the Roman engineer Ap-
pius, are said to have displayed the greatest mechanical
genius, and to have retarded the capture of his native
city.
5. Among the various inventions which we have re-jnvcijtion
ceived from antiquity, that of Avater mills is entitled to of water-
the highest place, whether avc consider the ingenuity111^ and
Avhich they display, or the useful purposes to Avhich "hid-imlL*
they are subservient. In the infancy of tlie Roman re¬
public the corn Avas ground by hand-mills, consisting of
two millstones, one of Avhich was moveable, and the
other at rest. The upper millstone was made to revol\rc
cither by the hand applied directly to a winch, or by
means of a rope winding round a capstan. 'I he precise
time when the impulse or the weight of Avater was sub¬
stituted in the place of animal labour, is not exactly
knoAvn. From an epigram in the Anthologia Grveca,
there is reason to believe that Avater-mills Avere invented
during the reign of Augustus j hut it is strange that in
48
.IJistorv.
Stevinus
discovers
the paral¬
lelogram
of forces.
J)ied in
*635.
M E C H
the description given of them by Vitruvius, who lived
under that emperor, they arc not mentioned as of re¬
cent origin. The invention of wind-mills is of a later
date. According to some authors, they were first used
in France in the sixth century ; while others maintain
that they were brought to Europe in the time ot the
crusades, and that they had Idng been employed in the
east, where the scarcity of w ater precluded the applica¬
tion of that agent to machinery.
6. The science of mechanics seems to have been sta¬
tionary till the end ol the 16th century. In 1577 a
treatise on mechanics .was published by Cnidus Ubal-
dus, but it contained merely the discoveries ot Archi¬
medes* Simon Stevinus, however, a Dutch mathe¬
matician, contributed greatly to the progress of the
science. He discovered the parallelogram of forces •,
and has demonstrated in his Statics, published in 1586,
that if a body is urged by two forces in the direction of
the sides of a parallelogram and proportional to these
sides, the combined action of these two forces is equi¬
valent to a third force acting in the direction of the
diagonal of the parallelogram, and having its intensity
proportional to that diagonal. 'Ibis important dis-
covcx-y, which has been of such service in the different
departments of physics, should have conferred upon its
author a greater degree of celebrity than he has actual¬
ly enjoyed. His name has scarcely been enrolled in
the temple of fame, hut justice may yet be done to the
memory of such an ingenious man. He had likewise
the merit of illustrating other parts of statics ; and he
appears to have been the first who, without the aiil of
the properties of the lever, discovered the laws of equi¬
librium in bodies placed on an inclined plane. His
works were reprinted in the Dutch language in 1605.
They w7ci'e translated into Latin in 1608, and into
French in 1634} and in these editions of his works his
Statics were enlarged by an appendix, in which lie
treats of the rope machine, and on pulleys acting ob¬
liquely.
“Lucas Va- 7. The doctrine of the centre of gravity, which had
levius writes been applied by Archimedes only to plane surfaces, was
«n the ecu- now extended by Lucas "V alerius to solid bodies. In
his woi’k entitled Dc Centro GravitatisSolidoruniLiber,
published at Bologna in 1661, he has discussed this sub¬
ject with such ability, as to receive from Galileo the
honourable appellation of the Novus nostree cetatis Ar¬
chimedes.
Discoveries 8. In the hands of Galileo the science of mechanics
ot' Galileo, assumed a new form. In 1572 he wrote a small treatise
Died 16^2'011 stat^cs’ 'whi(‘h reduced to this principle, that it
' tC requires an equal power to raise two different bodies to
altitudes in the inverse ratio of their weights, or that
the same power is requisite to raise 10 pounds to the
height of 100 feet, and 20 pounds to the height of 50
feet. This fei’tile principle was not pursued by Galileo
to its different consequences. It was left to Descartes
to apply it to the determination of the equilibrium of
machines, which he did in his explanation of machines
and engines, without acknowledging his obligations to
the Tuscan philosopher. In addition to this new prin¬
ciple, Galileo enriched mechanics with his theory of lo¬
cal motion. This great discovery has immortalized its
author ; and whether we consider its intrinsic value, or
the change which it produced on the physical sciences,
.wc are led to regard it as nearly of equal importance
1 ^
tre of gra¬
vity of so¬
lids.
1661.
A N I C S.
with the theory of Universal gravitation, to which it History,
paved the way. The first hints of this new theory were v—'
given in his Systema Cosmicum, Diaiogus.il. The
subject was afterwards fully discussed in another, en¬
titled Discursus et Demonstrationes Mathematics cir- r^s. ,
ca dttas novas Scienlias pertinentes ad Mechanicam et
Motion Localem, and published in 1638. This work is
divided into four dialogues ; the first of which treats of
the resistance of solid bodies before they are broken :
The second points out the cause of the cohesion of solids.
In the third he discusses his theory of local motions,
comprehending those which ai’e equable, and those
which are uniformly accelerated. In the fourth he
tx-eats of violent motion, or the motion of projectiles \
and in an appendix to the work he demonstrates several
propositions relative to the centre of gravity of solid
bodies. In the first of these dialogues he has founded his
reasoning on principles which ai-e far from being correct,
hut lie has been moi*e successful in the other three. In
the third dialogue, which contains his celebrated theo¬
ry, he discusses the doctrine of equable motions in six
theorems, containing the different relations between the
velocity of the moving body, the space which it de¬
scribes, and the time employed in its description. In
the second part of the dialogue, which treats of acce-
lei’ated motion, he considers all bodies as heavy, and
composed of a number of parts which are also heavy.
Hence he concludes that the total weight of the body
is proportional to the number of the material particles
of which it is composed, and then reasons in the follow¬
ing manner. As the weight of a body is a power al-
xvays the same in quantity, and as it constantly acts
without inteiTuption, the body must be continually re¬
ceiving from it equal impulses in equal and successive
instants of time. When the body is prevented from
falling by being placed on a table, its weight is inces¬
santly impelling it downwards, hut these impulses are
incessantly desti’oyed by the resistance of the table which
prevents it from yielding to them. But where the
body falls freely, the impulses which it perpetually re¬
ceives are perpetually accumulating, and remain in the
body unchanged in every respect excepting the dimi¬
nution which they experience from the resistance of air.
It therefore follows, that a body falling freely is uni¬
formly accelerated, or receives equal increments of
velocity in equal times. Having established this as a de¬
finition, he then demonstrates, that the time in which
any space is described by a motion uniformly accelerat¬
ed from rest, is equal to the time in which the same
space would be described by an uniform equable motion
with half the final velocity ot the accelerated motion j
and that in every motion uniformly accelerated from
rest, the spaces described are in the duplicate ratio of
the times of description. After having proved these
theorems, he applies the doctrine with great success to
the ascent and descent of bodies on inclined planes.
• 9“ t!ieory of Galileo was embraced by his pu- Labours *i
pil 'lorricelli, who illustrated and extended it in his Torricelli-
excellent work entitled Dc motu gravium nataraliter I|544-
accelerate, published in 1664. In his treatise Be motu
projectorum, published in the Florentine edition of his
woiks, in 1664, he has added several new and import¬
ant propositions to those which w ere given by his mas¬
ter on the motion of projectiles. " Invention*!
10. It was about this time that steam began to bethc steam
employed cn^lK'
MECHANICS.
History, employed as the first mover of machinery. This great
discovery has been ascribed by the English to the mar¬
quis of Worcester, and to Papin by the French ; but
it is almost certain, that about 34 years before the date
of the marquis’s invention, and about 61 years before
the construction of Papin’s digester, steam was employ¬
ed as the impelling power of a stamping engine by one
Brancas an Italian, who published an account of his
invention in 1629. It is extremely probable, however,
that the marquis of Worcester had never seen the work
of Brancas, and that the fire-engine which he mentions
in his Century of Inventions wras the result of his own
ingenuity. The advantages of steam as an impel¬
ling power being thus known, the ingenious Captain
Savary invented an engine which raised water by the
expansion and condensation of steam. Several engines of
this construction were actually erected in England and
France, but they were incapable of raising water from
depths which exceeded 35 feet. The steam-engine re-
ceived great improvements from our countrymen New-
> comen, Brighton, and Blakey ; but it wras brought to
it present state of perfection by Mr Watt of Birming¬
ham, one of the most accomplished engineers of the
present age. Hitherto it had been employed merely as
a hydraulic machine for draining mines or raising wa¬
ter, but in consequence of Mr Watt’s improvements it
has long been used as the impelling power of almost
every species of machinery. It is a curious circum¬
stance, that the steam-engine was not only invented,
but has received all its improvements, in our own
country.
tiscorerles 11 • The success of Galileo in investigating the doc-
if Huygens, trine of rectilineal motion, induced the illustrious Huy-
P73- gens to turn his attention to curvilineal motion. In
his celebrated work Do Horologia Osciilatorio, publish¬
ed in 1673, he has shown that the velocity of a heavy
body descending along any curve, is the same at every
instant in the direction of the tangent, as it would have
been if it had fallen through a height equal to the cor¬
responding vertical absciss *, and from the application of
this principle to the reversed cycloid with its axis verti¬
cal, he discovered the isochronism of the cycloid, or
that a heavy body, from whatever part of the cycloid
it begins to fall, always arrives at the lower point ot
the curve in the same space of time. By these discus¬
sions, Huygens wras gradually led to his beautiful theo¬
ry of central forces in the circle. This theory may be
applied to the motion o*f a body in any curve, by con¬
sidering all curves as composed of an infinite number of
small arcs of circles of diflerent radii, which Huygens
had already done in his theory of evolutes. The theo¬
rems of Huygens concerning* the centrifugal force and
circular motions, were published without demonstrations.
1700. They were first demonstrated by Hr Keill at the end ot
his Introduction to Natural Philosophy. The demon¬
strations of Huygens, however, which were more pro¬
lix than those of the English philosopher, were after¬
wards given in his posthumous works.
'he laws of 12. About this time the true laws of collision or per-
ollision cussion were separately discovered by Wallis, Huygens,
v W imf an(* ^‘r Christopher Wren in 1661, without having the
luygeRs ' East communication with each other. They were
nd Wren, transmitted to the Royal Society of Eondon in
<5(51* 1688, and appeared in the 43d and 46th numbers ol
their Transactions. The rules given by Wallis and
Vol. XIH. Part I. - f
49
Wren are published in N° 43, pp. 864 and 867, and nistoiw.
those of Huygens in N° 46, p. 927. The founda- ^ v—m~J
tion ot all their solutions is, that in the mutual collision
of bodies, the absolute quantity of motion of the centre'
of gravity is the same after impact as before it, and that
when the bodies are elastic, tbe respective velocity is the
same after as-before tbe shock.—We are indebted like¬
wise to Sir Christopher Wren for an ingenious method
of demonstrating the laws of impulsion by experiment.
He suspended the impinging bodies by threads of equal
length, so that they might touch each other when at
rest. When the two bodies were separated from one
another, and then allowed to approach by their own
gravity, they impinged against each other when they
arrived at the positions which they had when at rest,
and their velocities were proportional to the chords of
the arches through which they had fallen. Their ve¬
locities after impact were also measured by the chords
of the arches through which the stroke had forced
them to ascend, and the results of the experiments coin¬
cided exactly with the deductions of theory. The laws
of percussion were afterwards more fully investigated by
Huygens, in his posthumous work He Motu Corporum
ex Percirssione, and by Wallis in his Mechanica, pub¬
lished in 1670.
1.3. The attention of philosophers was at this timeMoelmni-
directed to the two mechanical problems proposed by Pro"
Mersennus 1111635. The first of these problems was |)0se^
to determine the centre of oscillation in a compound Mersennus.
pendulum, and the second to find the centre of percus-1635-
sion of a single body, or a system of bodies turning
round a fixed axis. The centre of oscillation is that
point in a compound pendulum, or a system of bodies
moving round a centre, in which, if a small body were
placed and made to move round the same centre, it
would perform its oscillations in the same time as the
system of bodies. The centre of percussion, which is
situated in the same point of the system as the centre of
oscillation, is that point of a body revolving or vibrat¬
ing about an axis, which being struck by an immove¬
able obstacle, the whole of its motion is destroyed.
These two problems were at first discussed by Hesoartes Huygens
and Boberval, but the methods which they employed solves the
were far from being correct. The first solution of the
problem on the centre of oscillation was given by Huy- of oscijia_
gens. He assumed as a principle, that if several weights tiou.
attached to a pendulum descended by the force of gra¬
vity, and if at any instant the bodies were detached
from one another, and each ascended with the velocity
it had acquired by its fall, they would rise to such a
height that the centre of gravity of the system in that
state would descend to the same height as that from
which the centre of gravity of the pendulum had de¬
scended. The solution founded on this principle, which
was not derived from the fundamental laws of mecha¬
nics, did not at first meet with the approbation of phi¬
losophers } but it was afterwards demonstrated in the
clearest manner, and now forms the principle of the
conservation of active forces.— i be problem of the
centre of percussion was not attended with such difficul¬
ties. Several incomplete solutions of it were given by
different geometers 5 but it was at last resolved in an
accurate and general manner by James Bernouilli by^^^ ^
the principle of the lever. Borelli.
14. In 1666, a treatise He ViPercussionis, was pub-1665
G lished
I*abours of
Vaiifrnon.
Pai'ent on
the maxi¬
mum effect
of ma¬
chines.
* Mem. de
I'Acad.
1704.
De la Hire
■writes on
the teeth
of wheels.
M E C H
Halted by J. Alphonso Borelli, and in 1686, another work,
De Motionibus Naturalibus a Gravitate Pendentibus ;
but he added nothing to the science of mechanics. His
ingenious work, De Motu Animalium, however, is en¬
titled to great praise, for the beautiful application which
it contains of the laws of statics to explain the various
motions of living agents.
15. The application of statics to the equilibrium of
machines, was first made by Varighon in his Project of
a new System of Mechanics, published in 1687. The
subject was afterwards completely discussed in his JSou-
velle Mecaniquc, a posthumous work published in 1725.
In this work are given the first notions of the celebrated
principle of virtual velocities, from a letter of John
Bernouilli’s to Yarignon in 1717* The virtual velo¬
city of a body is the infinitely small space, through
which the body excited to move has a tendency to
describe in one instant of time. This principle has
been successfully applied by Yarignon to the equilibri¬
um of all the simple machines. The resistance of solids,
which was first treated by Galileo, ivas discussed more
correctly by Leibnitz in the Acta Eruditorum for 1687.
In the Memoirs of the Academy for 1702, Yarignon
has taken up the subject, and rendered the theory much
more universal.
16. An important step in the construction of machin¬
ery was about this time made by Parent. He remark¬
ed in general that if the parts of a machine are so arran¬
ged, that the velocity of the impelling pmver becomes
greater or less according as the weight put in motion
becomes greater or less, there is a certain propor¬
tion between the velocity of the impelling power, and
that of the weight to he moved, which renders the ef¬
fect of the machine a maximum or a minimum *. He
then applies this principle to undershot wheels, and
shows that a maximum effect will be produced when
the velocity of the stream is equal to thrice the velocity
of the wheel. In obtaining this conclusion, Parent sup¬
posed that the force of the current upon the wheel is in
the duplicate ratio of the relative velocity, which is
true only wdien a single fioatboard is impelled by the
water. But when more floatboards than one are acted
upon at the same time, it is obvious that the momentum
of the water is directly as the relative velocity j and by
making this substitution in Parent’s demonstration, it
will be found that a .maximum effect is produced when
the velocity of the current is double that of the wheel.
This result was first obtained by the Chevalier Borda,
and has been amply confirmed by the experiments of
Hmeaton. (See Hydrodynamics, § 279, 280, 281.)
The principle of Parent was also applied by him to the
construction of windmills. It had been generally sup¬
posed that the most efficacious angle of weather vras
450 j but it was demonstrated by the French philoso¬
pher that a maximum effect is produced when the sails
are inclined 54! degrees to the axis of rotation, or,
when the angle of weather is 354 degrees. This con¬
clusion, however, is subject to modifications which will
he pointed out in a subsequent part of this article.
17. The Trade dc Mecanique of De la Hire, publish¬
ed separately in 1695, and in the 9th volume of the
Memoirs of the French Academy from 1666 to 1699,
contains the general properties of the mec hanical powers,
and the description of several ingenious and useful ma¬
chines. But it is chiefly remarkable for the Traitc
A N I C S.
dcs Epicycloides, which is added to the edition publish- Ilisiow.
ed in the Memoirs of the Academy. In his interesting 1 
treatise, De la Hire considers the genesis and properties
of exterior and interior epicycloids, and demonstrates,
that when one wheel is employed to drive another, the
one will move sometimes with greater and sometimes with
less force, and the other will move sometimes with
greater and sometimes with less velocity, unless the teeth
of one or both of the wheels be parts of a curve gener¬
ated like an epicycloid. The same truth is applicable
to the formation of the teeth, ol rackwork, the arms of
levers, the wipers of stampers, and the lifting cogs oi
forge hammers 5 and as the epicycloidal teeth when pro¬
perly formed roll upon one another without much fric¬
tion, the motion of the machine will he uniform and
pleasant, its communicating parts will he prevented from
wearing, and there will be no unnecessary waste of the
impelling poever. Although De la Hire wras the first The disco-
who published this important discovery, yet the honour very of epi-
of it is certainly due to Olaus Roemer, the celebrated
Danish astronomer, who discovered the successive pro- ma(je Y
pagation of light. It is expressly stated by Leibnitz *, Roemer.
in his letters to John Bernouilli, that Roemer connnu- * Miscd-
nicated to him the discovery 20 years before the pub- /an- Bmh'
lication of De la Hire’s work j but still wre have no ”c”sj 1'?lc'
ground for believing that De la Hire wras guilty of pla- ^
giarism. Roemer’s researches were not published j and
from the complete discussion which the subject has re¬
ceived from the French philosopher, it is not unlikely
that he had the merit of being the second inventor.
Even Camus t, w ho about 40 years afterwards gave a | Conn de
complete and accurate theory of the teeth of wheels, Mathema-
was unacquainted with the pretensions of Roemer, and ttque, Liv.
ascribes the discovery to Dc la Hire.
18. The publication of Newffon’s Principia eontri- DjSCOvcric=
buted greatly to the progress of mechanics. His dis- of Newton,
coveries concerning the curvilineal motion of bodies,
combined with the theory of universal gravitation, ena¬
bled philosophers to apply the science of mechanics to
the phenomena of the heavens, to ascertain the law of
the force by which the planets are held in their orbits,
and to compute the various irregularities in the solar
system, which arise from the mutual action of the bo¬
dies which compose it. The Mecanique Celeste of La
Place, will he a standing monument of the extension
which mechanics has received from the theory of gravity.
The important mechanical principle of the conservation
cf the motion of the centre ol gravity is also due to
Newton. He has demonstrated in his Principia, that
the state oi the centre oi' gravity of several bodies, w he¬
ther in a state of rest or motion, is not affected by the
reciprocal action of these bodies, whatever it may he, so
that the centre cf gravity of the bodies which act upon
one another, either by the intervention of levers, or by
the laws of attraction, will either remain at rest, or
move uniformly in a right line.
19. M e have already seen that the principle of the principleof
conservation of active forces was discovered by Huygens the con'ser-
wlien he solved the problem of the centre of oscillation, vation of
percussion ot elastic bodies,oris commu-Huygens,
nicated from one body to another by threads or inflexi¬
ble lods, the sums of the masses multiplied by the squares
01 the absolute velocities remain always the same.
This
History.
lendered
;eneral by
Daniel Ber-
louilli.
h Mem. de
’ Acad.
Berlin,
t74i>.
Daniel Bcr-
louiili and
)ther philo-
iopliers de-
nonstrate
:he paral¬
lelogram
of forces.
}• Sup. En
hycl §
Dynamics.
Dispute
about the
noasure of
active
orces.
MECHANICS.
Tills important iatv is easily deducible from two simpler
laws admitted in mechanics. I. That in the collision
ol' elastic bodies, their respective velocities remain the
same alter impact as they were before it; and, 2. That
the quantity of action, or the product of the masses of
the. impinging bodies, multiplied by the velocity of their
centre of gravity, is the same after as before impact.
The principle of the conservation of active forces, was
regarded by its inventor only as a simple mechanical
theorem. John Bernoulli!, however, considered it as a
general law of nature, and applied it to the solution of
several problems which could not be resolved by direct
methods •, but his son Daniel deduced from it the laws
of the motion of fluids from vessels, a subject which had
been formerly treated in a very vague manner. He
afterwards rendered the principle more general *, and
showed how it could be applied to the motion of bodies
influenced by their mutual attractions, or solicited to¬
wards fixed centres by forces proportional to any func¬
tion of the distance.
20. After the parallelogram of forces had been in¬
troduced into statics by Stevinus, it w7as generally ad¬
mitted upon the same demonstration which was given for
the composition of motion. The first complete demon¬
stration was given by Daniel Bernouilli in the Commen¬
taries of Petersburgh for 1726, independent of the con¬
sideration of compound motion. This demonstration,
which was both long and abstruse, was greatly simpli¬
fied by D’Alembert in the Memoirs of the Academy
for 1769. Fonseneix and Riccati have given a very
ingenious one in the Memoirs of the Academy of Turin
for 1761. This was also improved by D’Alembert,
who gave another in the same Memoirs, and a third in
his Traite de Dynamique, published iu 1743- Dr Ro¬
bison t has combined the demonstrations of Bernouilli
and D’Alembert with one by Frisi, and produced one
that is more expeditious and simple. La Place has
likewise given a demonstration of the parallelogram of
forces in his Mecanique Celeste.
21. About the beginning of the 18th century, the
celebrated dispute about the measure of active forces
was keenly agitated among philosophers. 1 he first
spark of this war, which for 40 years l.ngland main¬
tained single-handed against all the genius oi the conti¬
nent, was excited by Leibnitz. In the Leipsic acts
for 1686, he asserted that Descartes was mistaken in
making the force of bodies proportional to their simple
velocity, and maintained that it followed the ratio of
the square of the velocity. He shewed, that a body,
with a velocity of two feet, acquires the power of rai¬
sing itself to a height four times as great as that to
which a body could rise with a velocity of only one
foot; and hence he concludes, that the force of that
body is as the square of its velocity. J he abbe de Co-
tilon, a zealous Cartesian, allowed the premises of
Leibnitz, but denied his conclusion. The body, said
he, which moves with a velocity of two feet, will cer¬
tainly rise to quadruple the height of another body that
has only the velocity of one foot 5 but it null take
twice the time to rise to that height, and a quadruple
effect, in a double time, is not a quadruple force, but
only a double one. The theory of Leibnitz was sup¬
ported by John Bernouilli, Herman, Gravesende, Mus-
chenbroeck, Poleni, Wolff, and Bulfinger j and the opi¬
nion of Descartes by Maclaurin, Stirling, Clarke, De-
saguliers, and other English philosophers. The qnes- Historv.
tion was at last involved in metaphysical reasoning 5 and —v~—J
if the dispute did terminate in favour of either party,
the English philosophers were certainly victorious. It
appears, in the clearest manner, that the force of a
moving body, indicated by the space which it describes,
is as the simple velocity, if we consider the space as de¬
scribed in a determinate time \ but it is as the square of
the Velocitv, if we do not consider the time in which the
space is described. The question, therefore, comes to
be this : In estimating the forces of bodies in motion,
ought we to take time into consideration ? If, with the
followers of Leibnitz, we reject this element, then we
may maintain that the force of a child is equal to that
of a man carrying a load, because the child is also ca¬
pable of carying the same load, though in small parts
and in a greater length of time.
22. In 1743, D’Alembert published bis Traite ofcD’Alem-
Dynamique, founded upon a new principle in media-bfrt sPn11'’
nics. This principle was first employed by James Ber-0'^
noiuih m his solution of the problem 01 the centre of
oscillation j but D’Alembert had the honour of genera¬
lising it, and giving it all that simplicity and fertility
of which it was susceptible. He showed, that in what¬
ever manner the bodies of one system act upon another,
their motions may always be decomposed into two
others at every instant, those of the one being destroy¬
ed the instant following, and those of the other retain¬
ed, and that the motions retained are necessarily known
from the conditions of equilibrium between those which
are destroyed. This principle is evidently a conse¬
quence of the laws of motion and equilibrium, and has
the advantage of reducing all the problems of dynamics
to pure geometry and the principles of statics. By
means of it D’Alembert has resolved a number of beau¬
tiful problems which had escaped bis predecessors, and
particularly that of the precession of the equinoxes,
which had occupied the attention of Newton. In his
Traite de Dynamiqve, D’Alembert has likewise reduced
the whole of mechanics to three principles, the force of
inertia, compound motion, and equilibrium 5 and lias il¬
lustrated his views on this subject by that profound and
luminous reasoning which characterises all bis writ-
iijga. ... . T7< 1
23. Another general principle in dynamics was Euler,
about this time discovered separately by Euler, Darnel
Bernouilli, and the chevalier D’Arcy, and received the d'Arcy, dis-
name of conservation of the momentum oj rotatory cover the
motion. According to the two first pbilosopliers, theconservo-
principle may be thus defined: In the motion of seve-^^,^
ral bodies round a fixed centre, the sum of the' products rotatory
of the mass of each body multiplied by the velocity of motion,
its motion round the centre, and by its distance f’’om
that centre, is always independent of the mutual action 1746.
which the bodies may exert upon each other, and al-
wavs preserves itself the same, provided the bodies are
not influenced by any external cause. This principle
was given by Daniel Bernouilli in the Memoirs ol the
Academy of Berlin for 1746 ; and the same year by
Euler in the first volume of bis works. They were
both led to the discoverv, while investigating the mo¬
tion of several bodies in a tube of a given form, and
which can only turn round a fixed point, Fhe princi¬
ple discovered by the chevalier D’Arcy was given m a
memoir dated 1746, and published m the Memoirs of
G 2 the
the Academy for 1747
products of the mass of each body by the area which its
radius vector describes round a fixed point, is always
proportional to the times. The identity of this princi¬
ple, which is a generalisation of Newton’s theorem
about the areas described by the planetary bodies, with
that of Euler and Bernouilli, will be easily perceived,
if we consider that the element of the circular arc, di¬
vided by the element of the time, expresses the velocity
• of circulation, and that the element of the circular arc,
multiplied by the distance from the centre, gives the
element of the area described round that centre j so
that the principle of Euler is only a difierential expres¬
sion of the principle of D’Arcy, which he afterwards
expressed in this form, that the sum of the products of
the masses of each body by their velocities, and by the
perpendiculars drawn from the centre to their lines of
direction, is a constant quantity.
Hie prin- 24. The principle of least action, which was first
ciple of proposed by Maupertuis in 1744, consists in this, that
least ac^n when several bodies, acting upon one another, experi-
Mauper- ^ dice any change in their motion, this change is always
tuis. such, that the quantity of action (or the product of the
mass by the space and the. velocity) employed by na¬
ture to produce it, is the least possible. From this
principle Maupertuis deduced the laws of the reflection
and refraction of light, and those of the collision of bo-
* Mem. A- dies*. He afterwards extended its application to the
cMd. w }aws 0f motion, and made the principle so general as to
Meni "X comprehend the laws of equilibrium, the uniform mc-
cad. Berlin tion of the centre of gravity in the percussion of bodies,
i74<5> and the conservation of active forces. This celebrated
principle was attacked by Koenig, professor of mathe¬
matics at the Hague, in the Leipsic acts for 1751,
who not only attempted to shew its falsity, but asserted
that Leibnitz had first described it in 1707 in a letter
to Herman. The paper of Koenig gave rise to a long
and violent dispute about the accuracy of the principle,
and the authenticity of the letter of Leibnitz. The
academy of Berlin interfered in behalf of their presi¬
dent, and gave importance to a controversy which
■was too personal to merit the attention which it re¬
ceived.
.Euler and 25- In his Trente des Isopenmeiries, printed at Lau-
Lagrange sanne 1744, Euler extended the principle of least
action, and shewed, “ that in the trajectories described
by means of central forces, the integral of the velocity,
multiplied by the element of the curve, is either "a
maximum or a minimumd'' This remai'kable property,
which Euler recognised only in the case of insulated
bodies, was generalised by Lagrange into this new
principle, 4 that the sum ol the products of the masses
by the integrals of the velocities, multiplied by the ele¬
ments oi the spaces, described, is always a maximum or
a minimum.” In the Memoirs of Turin, Lagrange has
employed this principle to resolve several difficult pro-
■\Meca- Wems in dynamics; and he has shewn t, that when it
niqut A- is combined with the conservation of active forces, and
nalytique, developed according to the rules of his method of varia-
i-jSsf’ tIons’ Jt lushes directly all the equations necessary for
the solution of each problem, and gives rise to a simple
and general method of treating the various problems
concerning the motion of bodies.
Labours of 26. An important discovery in rotatory motion, was
at *ms ^me made by Professor Segner. In a paper,
MECHANICS.
He shewed, that the sum of the entitled Specimen Theories Turbinum, he demonstrated, History.
generalise
the prin¬
ciple of
Mauper¬
tuis.
that if a body of any form or magnitude, after it has
received rotatory motions in all directions, be left en¬
tirely to itself, it will always have three principal axes
of rotation ; or, in other words, all the rotatory motions
with which it is affected, may be reduced to three,
which are performed round three axes, perpendicular to
each, passing through the centre of gravity of the re¬
volving body, and preserving the same position in abso¬
lute space, while the centre of gravity is either at rest
or moving uniformly in a straight line.
27. The force of torsion began at this time to be in- Coulomb
vestigated by Coulomb, who published two ingenious inquires
papers on the subject, in the Memoirs of the Frenchint0 t‘lC
Academy. He has successfully employed this principle
in several physical researches, but particularly in deter- ’
mining the law of magnetic action, and in finding the
laws of the resistance of fluids when the motions are ex¬
tremely slow *. It was by means of an elegant experi- * Memoir
ment on the principle of torsion that Mr Cavendish de l Insti-
determined the mutual attraction of two masses of lead,tut'
and thence deduced the mean density of the earth.—r10"1'”1‘
We arc also indebted to Coulomb for a complete set of"
experiments on the nature and effects of friction. By
employing large bodies and ponderous weights, and and into
conducting his experiments on a large scale, he hastlle subjec
corrected errors which necessarily arose from the limit-oi incUou-
ed experiments of preceding writers ; he has brought
to light many new and interesting facts, and confirmed
others which had hitherto been partially established.
The most curious result of these experiments is the ef¬
fect of time in increasing the friction between two sur¬
faces. In some cases the friction reaches its maximum
after the rubbing surfaces have remained in contact for
one minute ; and in other cases five or six days were
necessary before this effect was produced. The increase
of friction, which is generated by prolonging the time
of contact, is so great, that a body, weighing 1650
pounds, was moved with a force of 64 pounds when
first laid upon the corresponding surface. After re¬
maining in contact for the space of three seconds, 100
pounds were necessary to put it in motion ; and when
the time was prolonged to six days, it could scarcely be
moved with a power of 6 22 pounds)-. _ t
xb. Lne ot the most important treatises on the sci-Presented}
ence of motion is the Mechanics of the celebrated Eu-t°m- ix.
ler, published in 1^6. It contains the whole theory Works on
o rectilineal and curvilineal motion in an insulated mechanics
body, affected by any accelerating forces, either in va¬
cuo or in a resisting medium. He uniformly uses
the analytical method, and has employed the principle
of the vis inert ice, and that of compound motion, for
putting his problems into equations. By the vis incr-
ibre, motion is at every moment of time rectilineal and Euler’s me
uni oim • aiid by the principle of compound motion, a chanics.
body, exposed to the action of any number of forces,
tending to alter the quantity and the direction of its
motion, will move in such a direction as to reach the
very point at which it would have arrived, had it
obeyed successively each of the forces which act upon
it.—in the Mecanique Analytique of Lagrange unb-T
LsW m .788 all the
c c 0 genera foimulae, which, being developed, fur- clique Ann
mshus with the equations that are necessary for the so-1^6*
lution of each problem ; and the different principles
which
Theory.
'rony's
[rchi c-
ire Hy
mulique
ml Meca-
ique Phi
tsophique.
)bjects of
lieoretical
leclianics.
li-vislon of
lachines
nto .simple
nd com-
oimd.
definitions.
MECHANICS.
53
which have been discovered for facilitating the solutions
of mechanical questions, are brought under one point
of view, and their connection and dependence clearly
pointed out. The Architecture Hydrauiique, hy M.
Prony, published in 1790, and tb® Mecanique Philoso-
pkique, of the same author, published in 1799, con¬
tain all the late improvements in mechanics, and a
complete view both of the theory and application of
that science. The first of these works is intended
chiefly for the use of the engineer, though an exten¬
sive acquaintance with the higher geometry is neces¬
sary for perusing it with advantage. His Mecanique
Philosophique is a profound work, in which, without
the aid of a single diagram, he gives all the formulae,
and the various theorems and problems which belong to
the sciences of mechanics and hydrodynamics. Every
alternate page contains a methodical table of the results Theory,
obtained in the preceding page, the description of the -v”—
symbols, and the theorems, problems, and formulae
which may have been obtained. The Traite dc Me-
camque P lenient air c, by M. Franceur, published in 1802
in one volume octavo, is an excellent abridgement, of
the works of Prony, and is intended as an introduction
to the Mecanique Philosophique of that author, to the
Mecanique Anahjtique of Lagrange, and to the Meca¬
nique Celeste of Laplace.—None of these works have
been translated into English 5 but their place is well
supplied by a Treatise on Mechanics Theoretical, Prac¬
tical, and descriptive, by Olinthus Gregory, A M.
published in 1806, and containing a complete view of
the latest improvements, both in the theory and prac¬
tice of mechanics.
PART I. THEORY OF MECHANICS.
29. THE theory of mechanics properly compre¬
hends, 1. Dynamics^ 2. The motion of projectiles.
3. The theory of simple machines, or the mechanical
powers. 4. The theory of compound machines, and
their maximum effects. 5. The doctrine of the centre
of gravity. 6. The centre of oscillation, gyration, &c.
7. The collision of bodies. 8. The theory of rotation.
9. The theory of torsion. 10. The strength of materi¬
als ; and, 11. The equilibrium of arches, domes.—The
subjects of Dynamics, Projectiles, Rotation, and
Strength of Materials, having been already ably
treated by Dr Robison, under their respective heads,
we shall now direct the attention of the reader to the
other branches of theoretical mechanics.
Chap. I. On Simple ^Machines, or the Mechanical
Powers.-
30. The simple machines have been generally rec¬
koned six in number. 1. The lever j 2. The wheel and
axle, or axis in peritrochio; 3. The pulley •, 4. The
inclined plane ; 5. The wedgey and, 6. The screw:
to which some writers on mechanics have added the ba¬
lance, and others the rope-machine. It is evident, how¬
ever, that all these machines may be reduced to three,
the lever, the inclined plane, and the rope-machme.
The pulley, and the wheel and axle, are obviously com¬
posed of an assemblage oflevers •, the balance is a lever
with equal arms •, the wedge is composed of two in¬
clined planes, with their bases in contact; and the
screw is either a wedge or an inclined plane, wrapped
round a cylinder.—Under the head of simple machines,
therefore, we cannot, in strict propriety, include any
of the mechanical powers, excepting the lever, the in¬
clined plane, and the rope-machine.
Definitions.
31. Def. 1. When two forces act against each other
by the intervention of a machine, the one force is call¬
ed the pomew, and the other the weight. The weight
is the resistance to be overcome, or the effect to be pro¬
duced. The power is the force, whether animate or
inanimate, which is employed to overcome that resist¬
ance, or to produce the required effect.
32. Def. 2. The power and weight are said to ba¬
lance each other, or to be in equilibrio, •when- the ef¬
fort of the one to produce motion in one direction, is
equal to the effort of the other to produce motion in
the opposite direction ;—or when the weight opposes
that degree of resistance which is precisely required to
destroy the action of the power.
Sect. I. On the Lever.
33. Definitions.. A. lever is an inflexible bar or Levers di¬
rod moving freely round a point, called its fulcrum or kinds.'
centre of motion.
Levers have been generally divided into three kinds.
Ill levers of the first kind the fulcrum is situated be¬
tween the power and the weight, as in steelyards, scis-
sars, pincers, Levers of the second kind have
the weight between the power and the fulcrum, as in
cutting knives fastened at the point of the blade, and.
in the oars, of a boat where the water is regarded as the
fulcrum. In levers of the third kind, the power is be¬
tween the weight and the fulcrum, as in tongs, sheers
for sheep, &c. The bones of animals are generally
considered as levers of the third kind, for the muscles,
by the contraction of which the power or moving force
is generated, are fixed much nearer to the joints or cen¬
tres of motion than the centre of gravity of the weight
to be raised. On this subject, see Paley’s Natural
Theology, chap. 7. & 8. and Borelli de Motiu Ani¬
mal ium.
Axioms.
34. Axiom i. Equal weights acting at the extremi- Axioms.j-
ties of equal arms of a straight lever, and having the
lines of the direction in which they act at equal angles to
these arms, will exert the same effort to turn the lever
round its fulcrum. This axiom has been generally re¬
stricted to the particular case when the weights act per¬
pendicularly to the arms of the lever-, but no reason
can be assigned for such limitation. The truth in the
axiom is as self-evident when the angles formed by the
arms of the lever and the direction of the forces are 8o°,
as when they are oo°, for in each case the two weights
exert
Plate
CCCXVI.
fig. I.
'i'ig. 2.
M E € H
exert tlieir influence upon the lever in precisely the
same circumstances.
35. Axiom 2. If two equal weights are placed at
the extremities of a lever supported by two fulcra ; and
if these fulcra are at equal distances from the weights, or
the extremities of the lever ; the pressure upon thefdcra
will be equal to ike sum of the weights, and the pressure
upon each fulcrum will be equal to one of the weights.
The lever being supposed devoid of weight, it is ob¬
vious, that as each fulcrum is similarly situated with re¬
spect to both the weights, the pressure upon each must
he equal •, and as the fulcra support both the equal
weights, the pressure upon each must be equal to one of
the weights.
Proposition I.
36. If two weights or forces acting at equal angles
upon a straight lever, devoid of weight, are in
equilibrio, they are reciprocally proportional to
their distances from the fulcrum.
37. Case i. When the weights act on contrary sides
of the fulcrum.
Let AB be a lever devoid of weight, and let it be
supported on the two fulcra, fY, situated in such a
manner that Kf ~fY — FB. Then if two equal
weights C, D of one pound each are suspended at the
extremities A, B, so as to act in the directions AC,
BD, making the angles CAB,DBA equal, these weights
will be in equilibrio, for since A-f— FB (Axiom 1.)
the effort of the weight D to turn the lever round the
fulcrum F, will be equal to the effort of the weight C
to turn it round the fulcrum f Now (Axiom 2.) the
pressure upon the fulcrum f is equal to one pound,
therefore if that fulcrum he removed, and a weight E
of one pound he made to act upward at the point F,
the weights C and D will continue in equilibrio. Then
it is obvious that since FB — Yf the weight E of one
pound acting upwards at the point f so that the angle
D/F=DBA, will have the same effect as an equal
weight acting downwards at B. By removing the
weight E, therefore, and suspending its equal C at the
extremity B, the equilibrium will still be preserved.
But the weights D, C, suspended at B, ai’e equal to
two pounds, and the weight C is only one pound 5 and
as FA is double of FB, it follows that a weight of two
pounds, placed at the end of one arm of a lever, will be
in equilibrio with a weight of one pound placed at
twice the distance of the former from the fulcrum.
But 2 : ir=2 FB or AF : FB, that is, when the di¬
stances are as 2 to 1, an equilibrium takes place if
the weights are reciprocally proportional to these di¬
stances.
38. Case 2. When weights act on the same side of
the fulcrum.
Let AB he a lever in equilibrio upon the ful¬
crum F, and let FA be equal to FB, consequently
(Case 1.) we must have C~D=i pound. Now as the
fulcrum F supports a weight equal to C-f-D—• 2 pounds,
the equilibrium will continue if a weight E of two
pounds is made to act upwards at the point F, for in
this case it supplies the place of the fulcrum. It is ob¬
vious also that a fulcrum placed at A or B will supply
tlie place of the weights at these parts without affecting
3
A N I C S.
the equilibrium. Let, therefore, the weight D he re- Tlicorv,
moved, and let the extremity B rest Upon a fulcrum; v—
then since the lever is in equilibrio, wc have a weight
E—C-fD—2 pounds acting at F, and balancing a.
weight C of one pound acting at A. But 2 : i~AB :
FB, consequently when there is an equilibrium between
two weights C, 1) acting at the distances 2 and 1 from
the fulcrum, and on the same side of the fulcrum, the
weights are reciprocally proportional to these distances.
39. Again, let AB be the same lever supported by Pig. 3,
the fulcra f, F, and let A/—FB and/F=2FB. Then
if two weights C, D of one pound each be suspended
at the extremities A, B, they will be in equilibrio as be¬
fore. But since the fulcrum /' supports a pressure of
one pound (Axiom 2.), the equilibrium will still con¬
tinue when that fulcrum is removed and a weight ot
one pound made to act in a contrary direction / P at
the point/, so that the angle P/F may be equal to
DBA. Now, (Axiom 1.) a weight E of one pound
acting upward at f will be in equilihrio with a weight
E' of one pound acting downwards at/'; Fj being equal
to Yf, and therefore by removing E from the point/
and substituting E at the point/', an equilibrium will
still obtain. But since Y f'= 2FB a weight of one pound
suspended from/ will have the same influence in turn¬
ing the lever round F as a weight of two pounds sus¬
pended at B (Case 2.). Let us remove, therefore, the
weight E' from/', and substitute a weight G=2E', so as
to act at B. Then since the equilibrium is not destroy¬
ed, we have a weight C of one pound acting at the di¬
stance FA, and the weights D-|-G=3 pounds acting at
the distance FB. But FA—3FB and D-|-G:r=3C,
consequently C : D-(-G—EB : FA : That is, when the
distances from the fulcrum are as 3 to 1, and when an
equilibrium exists, the weights are reciprocally propor¬
tional to these distances.
40. By making FA in fig. 2. equal to 2EB it may pjg
be shewn, as in Case 2. that the weights are recipro¬
cally proportional to their distances from the fulcrum,
when they act on the same side of the fulcrum, and when
the distances are as 3 to 1.
41. In the same way the demonstration may he ex-Fig. 3.
tended to any commensurable proportion ef the arms,
by making EA to FB in that proportion, and keeping
/A always equal to FB. Hence we may conclude in
general, that when two weights acting at equal angles
upon a straight lever devoid of weight, are in equilibrio,
they are reciprocally proportional to their distances from
the centre of motion. Q. E. D.
42. Cor. 1. If two weights acting at equal angles Corollari
upon the arms of a straight lever devoid of weight are
reciprocally proportional to their distances from the ful¬
crum, they will he in equilibrio.
For if an equilibrium does not take place, the pro¬
portion of the weights must he altered to procure an
equilibrium, and then, contrary to the proposition, the
weights would balance each other when they are not
reciprocally proportional to their distances from the ful¬
crum.
43. Cor 2. If a weight W be supported by a hori-Fig. 4.
zontal lever resting on the fulcra A, B, the pressure up¬
on A is to tne pressure upon B in the inverse ratio of
their distances from the point where the weight is sus¬
pended, that is, as BE to FA.
For if we suppose B to he the fulcrum, and if removing
the
Z-heory.
M E C H A
the fulcrum A, we support the extremity A, of the lever
by a weight E equivalent to the weight sustained by
fulcrum A, and acting upwards over the pulley I’,
the
then the weight E or that sustained by A : W—BF
BA (Prop, i.) and if wre conceive A to be the ful¬
crum, and support the extremity B by a weight F
equal to that which was supported by the fulcrum B,
we shall have the weight F or the weight sustained by
B : W—FB : FA. Hence ex cequo the weight sus¬
tained by A is to the weight sustained by B as BF is
to FA.
44. Cor. 3. We may now call the two weights P
and W, the power and the weight, as in fig. 5, and
since P : WrrFB : FA, we have (Geometry, Sect,
iv. Theor. 8.) P X FA—W X FB, when an equilibrium
takes place,
, „ W X FB TTT P X FA
consequently P:
FA
W=
FB
WxFB
x ^ v  j>
TB=
P X FA
45. Cor. 4
that when the
escnption
' the steel-
ird or sta-
w
We have already seen (Axiom 2.)
power and the weight are on contrary
sides of the fulcrum, the pressure upon the fulcrum is
equal to P+W or the sum of the weights j but it is
obvious that when they act on the same side of the ful¬
crum, the pressure which it supports will be P— i\, or
the difference of their weights.
46. Cor. 5. If a weight P be shifted along the arm
of a lever AD, the weight W, which it is capable of
balancing at A, will be proportional to FA.
When the weights are in equilihrio (Cor. 3.)
W : P—FA : FB, or by alternation W : FArrP : FB,
and if w be another value of A and / a another value
of FA, we shall also have w : a : FB or w \ fa~
P : FB, consequently (Euclid, Book v. Prop. xi. and
xvi.) \V : ?c~FA : fa, that is, YV varies as FA.
Cor. 6. It is obvious that the truths in the preced¬
ing proposition and corollaries, also hold when the lever
lias the form represented in fig. 6. only the straight
lines AF, FB are in that case the length of the arm.
47. Cor. 7. Since by the last corollary FA : f a—
W : it follows that in the Roman statera or steelyard,
which is merely a lever with a long and short arm, ha¬
ving a weight moveable upon the long one, the distances
at which the constant weight must be hung are as the
weights suspended from the shorter arm. The steelyard
is represented in fig. 7. where AB is the lever with un¬
equal arms AF, FB, and F the centre of motion. The
body W, whose weight is to* be found, is suspended at
the extremity B of the lever, and the constant weight
P is moved along the divided arm FB till an equili¬
brium takes place. As soon as this happens, the num¬
ber placed at the point of suspension 13, indicates the
weight of the hodv. If the lever is devoid ol weight,
it is obvious that the scale EB will he a scale of equal
parts of which EB is the unit, and that the weight of
the body \V will be always equal to the constant weight
P multiplied by the number of divisions between P and
F. Thus if the equilibrium takes place when P is pull¬
ed out to the 12 division, we shall have Wm2 P, and
if P=i pound, W—12 pounds. But when the gravity
N I C S.
of the lever is considered, which must be done in the
real steelyard, its arms ax-e generally of unequal weight,
and therefore uhe divisions of the scale must he ascer¬
tained by experiment. In order to do this, remove the
weight P, and find the point C, at which a weight P'
equal to P being suspended, will keep the unequal arms
in equilibrio, C will then be the point at which the
equal divisions must commence. For when YV and P
are placed upon the steelyard and are in equilibrio, YY
balances P along with a weight which, placed at D,
would support P placed at C : Therefore YY x BF—
V X DF+P X CF 5 but P x DF+P x CF=:P x DC,
consequentlyYYr x BF—P X DC,and(GEOMETRY,Sect.
iv. Theor. 8.) YYr : DC—P: BF. By taking different
values of the variable quantities YY7 and DC as w and
d e, we shall have w : d c—P : BF, consequently
(Euclid, B. YT. Prop. xi. and xvi.) YV : xerzDC : dc,
that is, the weight of YV vax-ies as DC, and there-
fore the divisions must commence at C. If the arm BF
had been heavier than FA, which, however, can scai’ce-
ly happen in practice, the point C would have been
on the other side of F. In constructing steelyards,
it might he advisable to make the unequal arms
balance each other by placing a weight M at the
extremity of the lighter arm, in which case the
scale xvill begin at F. In the Danish and Swedish Danish andC
steelyard the body to be weighed and the constant Swedish
weight ai’e fixed at the extremities of the steelyard, butslcehal‘b
the point of suspension or centre of motion F moves
along the lever till the equilibrium takes place. The
point F then indicates the weight of the body required.
—There ai'e some steelyards inwhichthe constant weight
is fixed to the shorter arm, while the body to he weigh¬
ed moves upon the longer arm. The method of divid¬
ing this and the preceding steelyaxal may he seen in
De la Hire’s Traite de Mecaniquc, Prop. 36, 37, 38.
Prop. II.
48. To find the condition of equilibrium on a
straight lever when its gravity is taken into the
account.
49. Let us suppose the Idver to he of uniform thick¬
ness and density, as AB, fig. 7. and let it be suspended Fig. S» 1
by the points c, d to another lever a b, considered as
without weight, so that a c~cj—j d—d b. ll ben ir j
be the centre of motion or point of suspension, the cy¬
linder A B will be in equilibrio 5 for the weight AB
may he 1‘egarded as composed of a number ot pairs ot
equal weights, equally distant from the centre of mo¬
tion. For the same reason, if we conceive the cylinder
to he cut through at F the equilibrium will continue,
c, d being now the points at whiclx the weights AI,
FB act, and their distances c f df from the centre ot
motion being equal. Consequently the arms AF, FE
have the same energy in turning the lever round / as ii
weights equal to A I', IB wei’e suspended at the distance
of their middle points c, d from the fulcrum.
Let P therefore, in fig. 5. be the power, YY the
weight, m the weight of the arm AF, and n the weight pjg, c. .
of FB. Then when there is an equilibrium we shall
have (Prop. I. Cor. 3.) P X A/ -\-/n X v/1—Yv X I B
-j-^ X VFB j and since the weight nt, acting at half the
distance VF is the same as half the weight m acting at
the
56
Theory.
the whole distance AF, we may substitute-- wz X AF
instead of in X v AF, and the equation becomes
P-j-fm x AF—W-j-fn x FB. Hence
W-ffwxFB
Theorr.
AF
W
P-f-fn X AF
FB
MECHANICS.
Hence AE X FwrrBK' X F n, and AE : BK or P : W
z=Fn : Fm. Q. E. I). --y—
53. Con. 1. The forces P and W are reciprocally Corollaries,
proportional to the sines of the angles which their di-rig. i&2,
rections make with the arms of the lever, for F m is
evidently the sine of the angle FA m, and F n the sine
of the angle FB », FA, FB being made the radii j—
therefore P : W rrSin. FB n : Sin. FA m, or P : W
W=i?zX2FB
AF
P-\- ln X 2FB
:~Tb
•2P
-2W
AF:
W + f;z X FB
FB:
F+im
P+jrn x AF
W -j- Im
50. Cor. If the arms of the lever are not of uniform
density and thickness, instead of the distance of their
middle points, we must take the distance of their centre
of gravity from the fulcrum.
Prop. III.
51. If two forces acting in any direction, and in
the same plane, upon a lever of any form, are
in equilibrio, they wall be reciprocally propor¬
tional to the perpendiculars let fall from the
fulcrum upon the directions in which they act.
Plate 52, Tet AFB be a lever of any form, F its fulcrum,
CCCXVII. A, B the points to which the forces, or the power P and
lig. i-&2. weight \Y? are applied, and AE, BK the directions in
which these forces act. Make AE to PK as P is to
W, and they will therefore represent the forces applied
at A and B. Draw AC perpendicular to AF and
EC parallel to it, and complete the parallelogram
ADEC. In the same way form the parallelogram
BGKH. Produce EA and KB towards m and n if
necessary, and let fall F m, F n perpendicular to AE,
BK produced. Then P shall be to W as Fn is to Fm.
By the resolution of forces (Dynamics, § 140.) the
force AE is equivalent to forces represented by AD. and
AC, and acting in these directions. But as AD acts
in the direction of the arm AF, it can have no influ¬
ence in turning the lever round F, and therefore AC
represents the portion of the force AD which contri¬
butes to produce an angular motion round F. In the
sime way it may be shewn that BG is the part of the
force BK which tends to move the lever round F.
Now suppose AF produced to B, FB being made equal
to I B and B'G'—BG. Then by Prop. I. AC : B'G'
= L’B' : FA; but by Axiom 1. the eflbrt of BG to
turn the lever round F is equal to the effort of the
equal force B'G' to turn the lever round F ; therefore
AC : BG=FB : FA and AC x FArzBG XFB. New
the triangles ACE, AE m are similar, because the
angles at I and M are both right, and on account of
the parallels DF, AC, MACrrADF; therefore AC :
AE—F m : FA, and AC X FA=AE x F m. For the
same reason in the similar triangles BGK, BF n we
Fave BG : BK—F n : FB, and BK x Fyz=BG x FB.
2
Sin. FA m ' Sin. FB n
Since FA : F ot —Rad.
Sin. FAm, we have Fm—
FA x Sin. FKm
Rad.
and since
FB xSin.FBzz
FB:F/z—Rad. :Sin.FBw,wehaveF»zi_ ,
Rad.
but in the case of an equilibrium P : Wzr F n : F??z, con-
FBxSin. FBw FA x Sin. FAm
s^uen.lj- 1 : W= ^ : — JJJ- -i
and since magnitudes have the same ratio as their equi¬
multiples, P : W—EB xSin. EB 1/ : FA X Sin. FKm.
54. Cor. 2. The energies of the forces P, W to
turn the lever round the fulcrum F is the same at what¬
ever point in the directions ra E, n K they are applied,
for the perpendiculars to which these energies are pro-
portioual remain the same.—The truth cf this corollary
has been assumed as an axiom by some writers on me¬
chanics, who have very readily deduced from it the
preceding proposition. But it is verv obvious that the
truth assumed as self-evident is nearly equivalent to the
truth which it is employed to prove. Those who have
adopted this mode of demonstration illustrate their
axiom by tbe case of a solid body that is either pushed
in one direction with a straight rod, or drawn by a
cord ; in both cf which cases it is manifest that tbe
effect of the force employed is the same, at whatever
part of the rod or string it is applied : But these eases
are completely different from that of a body moving
round a fixed centre.
55. Cor. 3. If AE and BK the directions in which
the forces P, W are exerted be produced till they meet
at L ; and if from the fulcrum E thel me FS be drawn
parallel to the direction AL of one force till it meets BE,
the direction of tbe other ; then LS, SE will represent
tbe two forces. For as the sides of any triangle.are as
the sines of the opposite angles LS : SFrrsin. LFS : sin.
FES ; but on account -of the parallels FS, AL tbe
.angle LISzrFLA, and FL being radius F in is the
sine of I LA or LFS, and Fn the sine of FLS, there¬
fore by substitution LS : SFrrF m : F«, that is as the
force W : P.
56.. Cor. 4. If several forces act upon a lever, and
keep it in equilibrio, tbe sum of the products of the
forces and the perpendiculars from the fulcrum to the
direction of tbe different forces on one side is equal to
the sum of the products on tbe other. For since the
energy of each force to turn the lever is equal to the
product of the force and the perpendicular from live
fulcrum on the line of its direction ; and since in the
case ol an equilibrium, the energy of all the forces on
one side ot the fulcrum must be equal to tbe energy of
all the forces on the other side, the products propor¬
tional to their energies must also be equal.
57. Cor. 3. If two forces act in a parallel direction
upon an angular lever'whose fulcrum is its angular
point,
M E C H
'lioory. point, tliese forces will be in equilibrio when a line
i —y—-J drawn from the fulcrum upon the line which joins the
two points where the forces are applied, and parallel to
the direction of the forcesrcuts it in such a manner that
the two parts are reciprocally proportional to the forces
applied.
3. Let AFB be the angular lever, whose fulcrum is F,
and let the forces P, W be applied at A and B in the
parallel directions P m, W n ; then if the line FI), pa¬
rallel to P 7ii or W n, cut AB in such a manner that
DB : DA=P : W, the forces will be in equilibrio.
.Draw F 7)i perpendicular to P m, and produce it to n j
then since A m, B n are parallel, 771 71 will also be
perpendicular to B ??, and by the proposition (Art. 51.)
F n F )n ~ P : W. Now, if through F, there be
drawn 771' 71' parallel to AB, the triangles Fmtti', Ynn'
will be similar, and we shall have Fk : Fw—F n': Y771',
but on account of the parallels AB, ni' 71'; F n' : F 7>i'
—DB : DA, therefore DB : ))A—P : W.
jj;-4. 58. Cor. 6. Let CB be a body moveable round
its centre of gravity F, and let two forces P, W act
upon it at the points A, B in the plane AFB, in the
directions AP, BW 5 then since this body may be re¬
garded as a lever whose fulcrum is F, the forces will be
in equilibrio when P : W—F /i : F m the perpendicu¬
lars on the directions in which the forces act.
; j. 5. 59. Cor. 7. If AB be an inflexible rod moveable
round F as a fulcrum, and acted upon by two forces
P, W in the directions A m, A », these forces will be
in equilibrio when they are to one another as the per¬
pendiculars F 7i, F 77i.—For by cor. 2. the forces may
be considered as applied at m and 71, and m F 71 may be
jegarded as the lever *, but by the proposition (Art. 51.)
P: W—F n : F 7)l; F )nt F 71 being perpendiculars up¬
on A 7)i, A //.
] , (jt 60. Cor. 8. Let DE be a heavy wheel, and FG
an obstacle over wdiich it is td be moved, by a force P,
acting in the direction AH. Join AF, and draw F «/,
F n perpendicular to CA and AH. The weight of the
wheel is evidently the weight to be raised, and may be
represented by W acting at the point A in the vertical
direction AC. We may now consider AF as a lever
whose fulcrum is F, and by cor. 7. there will be an
equilibrium when P : W—F 71 : F 771. Since F 771 re¬
presents the mechanical energy of the power P to turn
the wheel round F, it is obvious that when FG is
equal to the radius of the wheel, the weight P, how¬
ever great, has no power to move it over the obstacle}
for when FGrrAC, F m—.o, and F X P=o.
bj;. 7. 61. Cor. 9. If a man be placed in a pair of scales
hung at the extremities of a lever, and is in equilibrio
with a weight in the opposite Scale, then if he presses
against any point in the lever, except that point from
which the scale is suspended, the equilibrium will be
destroyed. Let CB be the lever in equilibrio, F its
fulcrum, and let the scales be suspended from A and B,
AP being the scale in which the man is placed. Then
if he presses with his hand or with a rod against D, a
point nearer the centre than A, the scale will take the
position AP', and the same effect will be produced as
if AD were a solid mass acting upon the lever in the
direction of gravity. Consequently if P' p he drawn
perpendicular from the point P' to FC, Y p will be the
lever with which the man in the scale tends to turn
the lever round the fulcrum ; and as Y p is greater than
VOL. XIII. Part I. t
a n 1 c a 5-
FA, the man will preponderate. In die same way it Theory.
may be shown, that if the man in the scale AP presses 1 v—
upwards against a point C, more remote from the ful¬
crum than A, he will diminish his relative weight, and
the scale \Y will preponderate, for in this case the scale
assumes the position AP", and Fp' becomes the lever
by which it acts.
62. Cor. 10. If a weight W be supported by an Fig. 81
inclined lever resting on the fulcra A, B, the pressure
upon A is to that upon B inversely, as A^ is to b,
the sections of a horizontal line by the vertical direc¬
tion of the weight W.
Ilemove the fulcrum A, and support the extremity
A by a weight P, equal to the pressure upon A ; then
B being the centre of motion, and 77171 being drawn
through F perpendicular to the direction of the forces
A w, YL f, and consequently parallel to A b, we have
(Art. 51.) P : W~F 7i : F 77i~fb :/A, that is, the
pressure upon A is to the pressure upon B inversely as
Ay is toy*
Scholium.
63. Various attempts have been made by different
writers on mechanics to give a complete and satisfac¬
tory demonstration of the fundamental property of the
lever. The first of these attempts was made by Archi¬
medes, who assumes as an axiom, that if two equal bo¬
dies be placed upon a lever, they will have the same in¬
fluence in giving it a rotatory motion as if they were
both placed in the middle part between them. This
truth, however, is far from being self-evident, and on
this account Mr Y ince * has completed the demonstra- * PhiU
tion by making this axiom a preliminary proposition. Tram.
The demonstration of Galileo f is both simple and ele- 1794> p. 3W
gant, and does not seem to have attracted much notice, ^
though in principle it is exactly the same as that Q^strationes
Archimedes completed by Mr Y ince. Galileo sus- MuthemaU
pends a solid cylinder or prism from a lever by several Dial. h.
threads. YY7hen the lever is hung by its centre, theP-5S-
W'hole is in equilibrio. He then supposes the cylinder
to be cut into two unequal parts, which from their
mode of suspension still retain their position, and then
imagines each part of the cylinder to be suspended by
its centre from the lever. Here then w'e have two
unequal weights hanging at unequal distances from the
centre of suspension, and it follows from the construc¬
tion, that these weights are in the reciprocal ratio of
their distances from that centre. Mr Yrince, on the
other hand, employs a cylinder balanced on a fulcrum.
He supposes this cylinder divided into unequal parts,
and thus concludes, from his preliminary proposition^
that these unequal parts have the same effect in turning
the lever as if the weight of these parts was placed in
their centres ; which is done by Galileo by suspending
them from their centres. From this the fundamen¬
tal property of the lever is easily deduced.—The next
demonstration was given by Huygens, who assumes as
an axiom, that if any weight placed upon a lever is
removed to a greater distance from the fulcrum, its ef¬
fort to turn the lever will be increased. This axiom
he might have demonstrated thus, and his demonstra¬
tion would have been completely satisfactory, though
it applies only to cases where the arms of the lever pJate
are commensurable. Let AB be a lever with equal CCCXVI.
weights C, D, supported on the fulcra f F, so that Fig. 1.
58
Tlieorv.
M E C H .
Afzz FB ; then, as was shown in Prop. I. the weights
1 will be in equilxbrio, and each fulcrum will support
a weight equal .to C or D. By removing the fulcrum
f\ the°weight C must descend, as the equilibrium is de¬
stroyed by a weight equal to C acting at f; therefore
the weight C, at the distance AF, has a greater effect
in turning the lever than an equal weight D placed at
a less distance FB.-—In Sir Isaac Newton’s demonstra¬
tion, it is supposed that if a given weight act in any
direction, and if several radii be drawn from the ful¬
crum to the line of direction, the effort of that weight
to turn the lever will be the same to whatever of these
radii it is applied. It appears, however, from Art. 54.
that this principle is far from being self-evident, and
therefore the demonstration which is founded upon it
cannot be admitted as satisfactory. The demonstration
* Account given by Maclaurin * is simple and convincing, and has
of Neiv- been highly approved of by Dr 1. Young and other
tons pis- writers on mechanics, though it extends only to any
covenes. commensurable proportion of the arms. He supposes
Plate the lever AB with equal arms to be in equilibrio upon
CCCXVII. the fulcrum F, by means of the equal forces P, W, in
Hg-9. which case the fulcrum F will evidently be pressed
down with a weight equal to 2 P—P-{~TY He then
substitutes, instead of the weight P, a fixed obstacle O,
which will not destroy the equilibrium, and coiisidcrs the
fulcrum as still loaded with a weight equal to P -j-FV .
The pressure on F being therefore equal to 2 P or
P4.W, a weight E equal to 2 P, and acting upwards,
is substituted in the room of that pressure, so that the
equilibrium will still continue. Here then we have a
lever AB of the second kind, influenced by two forces
E and W acting at different distances from the fulcrum
A 5 and since E=2 P=2 W, and AB=2 AF, we
have E : W=AB : AF, which expresses the funda¬
mental property of the lever. Without objecting to
the circumstance that this demonstration applies only
to the lever of the second kind, we may be allowed to
observe, that it involves an axiom which cannot be
called self-evident. It is certainly manifest that when
P and W are in equilibrio, the pressure upon the ful¬
crum is =r 2 PrrP +W •, hut it by no means follows that
this pressure remains the same when the fixed obstacle O
is substituted in the room of P. On the contrary, the
axiom assumed is a result of the proposition which it is
employed to prove, or rather it is the proposition itself.
For if, when the extremity A bears against the ob¬
stacle O, the pressure upon F is equal to 2 W, the
force W obviously produces a pressure ~2W at halt the
distance AB, which is the property to be demonstrated.
—The demonstrations given by Mr Landen and Dr
Hamilton, the former in his Memoirs, and the latter
+ See also in his Essays t, though in a great measure satisfactory,
P/,,7 Trnr,! are iong anci tedious. In the demonstration of Dr
Hamilton, he employs the following proposition : that
when a body is at rest, and acted upon by three forces,
they will be to one another as the three sides of a tri¬
angle parallel to the direction in which the forces act.
Wrhen the three forces act on one point of a body, the
proposition is true, hut it is not applicable to the case
of a lever where the forces are applied to three different
points, and at all events the demonstration does not
Tncfirv,
Phil- Trans. are
vol. xciii.
P U3-
Plate
V N I C S.
hold when anv two of the forces act in parallel direc¬
tions. The 'demonstration which we have given in
Prop. I. is new, and different from any that have been
noticed. The truths on which it is founded are per¬
fectly axiomatic ; and the only objection to v/nieh it
seems liable is, that the demonstration extends only to
a commensurate proportion of the arms ol the le\ei.
An analytical demonstration of the fundamental pro¬
perty of the lever was given by Fonceneix in the Mis-
cellan. Jour. tom. ii. p. 321. which was afterwards im¬
proved by D’Alembert in the Mem. de 1’Acad. 1769.
p. 283.
Prop. IV.
64. When several levers AB, a b, a 0, whose fulcra
are F, <p, are so combined as to act perpendi-
cularly upon each other, or at equal angles;
and if the directions in which the power and
weight are applied, be also perpendicular to the
arms, or at the same angles with them as those
at which the levers act upon each other, there
is an equilibrium when P : W=BFxbfXfiQ :
AF x <3/X « ?>•
Let M he the force which is exerted by the first le¬
ver AB upon the second a b, and N the force which is
exerted by the second lever a b upon the third a /3, then
by Prop. I.
P : M=BF : AF
M : Nrr bf : af
N : \V— ftp : ct p.
Consequently by composition
P : W—BF X bfx /3 P : AF X «/X a p.
Prop. V.
65. To explain the new property of the lever dis¬
covered by M. ^Fpinus, and extended by Van
Swinden.
Let AFB be any lever whose fulcrum is F, and to Fig. 2.
whose extremities A, B are applied the forces P, W
in the directions AY, BO. Join AB, and produce it
on both sides towards E and I. Produce also the lines
YA, VB till they meet in H, and from H, through the
fulcrum F, draw HF /j dividing AB into two parts Afy
B f. Let UM he a line given in position, and let «, (Z
represent the angles which the direction of the forces
YA, VB make with that line. Let YA and VB like¬
wise represent the intensity of the forces P, W, and let
VA be resolved into AE and YF 5 and the force VB
into BI and VI.—Then the lever cannot be in equili¬
brium till
I. EAx/A-J-1B x/B is a maximum.
II. Or putting p for the angles formed by the lines
AB, UT, which the lever, when in equilibrio, makes
with the line UM given in position, there cannot he an
equilibrium till
Tang. <p x P X A/ X Cos> *-f-Tang. X W x B/ x Cos. /3 =: W X B/ X Sin (Z—P x A/ x Sin.
MECHANICS.
n for the angles EAB, EBA, there cannot be an equili-
59
Theory.
W. b (Sin. /3 X Eos, n—Sin, n X Cos. /3)—P. a (Sin. *xCos. m—Sin. m X Eos. «.)
P. a (Cos. * X Cos.w-f Sin. a X Sin. ni) -f-W.^ (Cos. |3 X Cos. n -j- Sin. /3 X Sin. ??.)'
III. And putting o, b for the arms AF, BF, and m,
brium unless
Tang.
As the demonstrations of these different cases are far
from being elementary, we shall only refer the reader
to the memoir upon this subject given by iEpinus in
the ISov. Comment. Petropol. tom. viii. p. 271.
Scholium.
66. This property of the lever was only considered
by iEpinus in the case of a rectilineal lever with equal
arms •, but was extended by J. H. A an Swinden. When
the lever is rectilineal and with equal arms, we have
jyFrrFBz=A/ir:B/', and also ni—iizzo, so that, if the
last formula is suited to these conditions, we shall have
the formula of iEpinus.
Prof. VI.
67. If a power and weight acting upon the arms
of any lever be in equilibrio, and if the whole
be put in motion, the velocity of the power is to
the velocity of the weight as the weight is to
the power.
Let AFB be any lever whose fulcrum is F, and let
the power P and weight W7 be applied to its extremi¬
ties A, B, so as to be in equilibrio. Draw F m, F n
perpendicular to AD, BE the direction of the forces
P, W. Then suppose an uniform angular motion to be
given to the lever, so as to make it describe the small
angle AFA', the position of the lever will now be
A'FB', and the directions of the forces, P, W will be
A'D', B'E, parallel to AD, BE respectively, since the
angle AEF is exceedingly small. Join AA', BB', and
from A' and B' draw A'.r, B'ss perpendicular to AD
and BE. Now it is obvious, that though the point A
has moved through the space AA' in the same time
that the point B has described the space BB', yet A .v
is the space described by A in the direction AD, and
B « the space described by B in the direction BE.
For if we suppose a plane passing through A at right
angles to AD, and another through P parallel to the
former plane, it is manifest that A .r measures the ap¬
proach of the point A to the plane passing through P ;
and for the same reason B % measures the approach ot
the point B to a plane passing through W at right
angles to WB. Therefore A .r, B ss represent the
spaces uniformly and simultaneously described by the
points A, B, and may therefore be taken to denote the
velocities of these points (Dynamics, § 14.) 5 conse¬
quently the velocity of A : the velocity ol B ~ A ,r : B 2;.
Now, in the triangles A.?’A', I m A, the exterior an¬
gle .r AF=A m F-f w F, A (Euclid, B. I. Prop. 32.)
and A'AFrrA m F, because AFA' is so exceedingly
small that A'A is sensibly perpendicular to AF j conse¬
quently x AA'=AE m : and as the angles at x and m
are right, the triangles A x A', A m F are similar
(Geometry, Theor. XX. Sect. IV.).
Therefore, A x: AA'zrF m : FA, and in the similar
triangles AFA', BFB' AA' : BB'~ FA : FB, and in
the similar trianglesBB'z, BFn, BB': 132;= IB : F «,
therefore by composition we have A x : B ‘Zzz.Cm : F«.
But by Proposition II. P : W —Yn : Ym, consequent¬
ly Ax : Bz=:WT : P, that is, the velocity of the power
is to the velocity of the weight as the weight is to the
power. Q. E. D.
68. Cor. Since A.r : B 2;r:W : P we have A^ X P
rrrBsX ^V, that is, the momenta of the power and
weight are equal.
Sect. II. On the Inclined Plane.
69. Definition. An inclined plane is a plane sur- Plate
face AB, supported at any angle ABC formed with CCt’XYill
the horizontal plane BC. The inclination of the plane lg' 4*
is the angle which one line in the plane AB forms with
another in the horizontal plane BC, both these lines
being at right angles to the common intersection of the
two planes.—The line BA is called the length of the
plane, AC its height, and BC the length of its base.
70. In order to understand how the inclined plane
acts as a mechanical power, let us suppose it necessary
to elevate the weight D from C to A. If this weight
is lifted by the arms of a man to the point A, he must
support the whole of the load •, hut when it is rolled up
the inclined plane, a considerable part of its weight is
supported upon the plane, and therefore a much smaller
force is capable of raising it to A.
Prop. I.
71. When any weight W is kept in equilibrio up¬
on an inclined plane by a power P, the power is
to the weight as the sine of the plane’s inclina¬
tion is to the sine of the angle which the direc¬
tion of the power makes with a line at right
angles to the plane.
Let MN be the inclined plane, NO a horizontal Fig. 5.
line, and MNO the inclination of the plane, and let
the weight W be sustained upon MN by means of the
power P acting in the direction AE. From the point
A, the centre of gravity of the weight, draw A13 per¬
pendicular to the horizontal plane ND, and AI per¬
pendicular to MN j produce EA till it meets the plane
in C, and from the point F where the body touches the
plane draw Ym at right angles to AC, and I' n at right
angles to AB. Then, since the whole body may be
considered as collected in the centre of gravity A, AB
will he the direction in which it tends to fall, or the di¬
rection of the. weight, and F.A is the direction of the
power j but A*F is a lever whose fulcruin is F', and since it
is acted upon by two forces which are in cquilibrio, we
shall have (Art. 59.) P : W=F n : F m, that is, as the
perpendiculars drawn from the fulcrum to the direction
in which the forces act. Now EA being radius, F n
is the sine of the angle FAB, and I rn is the sine ol
the angle FAC j but FAB is equal to MNO the angle
of the plane’s inclination, on account of the right angles
at F and B and the vertical angles at D 5 and FAC is
the angle which the direction of the power makes with
a line perpendicular to the plane j therefore P : W
Fisc* 6*
Fisc* 7.
M E C H
as the sine of the plane’s Inclination, is to the sine of the
angle formed by the direction of the power with a line
at the right angles to the plane.
'72. Cor. x. When the power acts parallel to the
plane in the direction AE', P is to W as EA to E
that is, as radius is to the sine of the plane’s inclination,
or on account of the similar triangles F A ??, MNO, as
the length of the plane is to its height. In this case
the power acts to the greatest advantage.
73. Cor. 2. When the power acts in a vertical line
A s, F m becomes equal to or coincides with F «, and
we have P : W=F n : F w, that is, the power in this
case sustains the whole weight.
74. Cor. 3. When the power" acts parallel to the
base of the plane in the direction A e, P: W=F «: F/
•zzYn\ A. n.
7 5. Cor. 4. When the power acts in the direction
AF e' perpendicular to the plane, it has no power to
resist the gravity of the weight; for the perpendicular
from the fulcrum F, to which its energy is proportional,
vanishes.
76. Cor. 5. Since the body W acts upon the plane
in a direction AF perpendicular to the plane’s surface,
(for its force downwards may be resolved into two, one
parallel to the plane, and the other perpendicular to it),
and since the reaction of the plane must also be perpen¬
dicular to its surface (Dynamics, § 149.), that is, in
the direction FA, then, when the direction of the power
is A e parallel to the horizon, the power, the weight,
and the pressure upon the plane, will be respectively as
the height, the base, and the length of the plane. The
weight W is acted upon by three forces; by its own
gravity in the direction A 11, by the reaction of the
plane in the direction AF, and by the power P in the
direction AF. Therefore, since these forces are in
equilibrio, and since A/- is parallel to n F, and F/’ to
Athe three sides AF, Ay, F /j will' represent the
three forces (Dynamics, § 144.). But the triangle
AFf is similar to A ?? F, that is, to MNO, for it was
already shewn that the angle n AF is equal to MNO,
therefore, since in the triangle AFy AF represents
the pressure on the plane, K f the weight of the body,
and Ff the energy of the power, these magnitudes will
also be represented in the similar triangle MNO by the
sides MN, MO, NO.
77. Cor. 6. If a power P and weight W are in
equilibrio upon two inclined planes, AB, AC •, P : W=
AB : AC. Let p be the power, which acting on the
weight W in a direction parallel to the plane would
keep it in equilibrio, then we have p : WrrAD : AC ;
but since the string is equally stretched at every point,
the same power p will also sustain the power P, conse¬
quently P : /;=:AB : AD, and by composition P : W
= AB': AC.
Prop. H.
78. If a spherical body is supported upon two in¬
clined planes, the pressures upon these planes
will be inversely as the sines of their inclination,
while the absolute v/eight of the body is repre¬
sented by the sine of the angle formed by the
two planes.
Let AC, BC be the two inclined planes, and F the
A N I C S.
spherical body which they support. The whole of its
matter being supposed to be collected in its centre of'
gravity F, its tendency downwards will be in the ver¬
tical line FO. The reaction of the planes upon F is
evidently in the direction MF, NF perpendicular to
the surface of these planes, and therefore we may con¬
sider the body F as influenced by three forces acting in
the directions FC, FM, FN ; but these forces are re¬
presented by the sides of the triangle ABC perpendicu¬
lar to their directions, (Dynamics, § I44*)> conse¬
quently the absolute weight of the body F, the pressure
upon the plane AC, and the pressure upon the plane
BC, are respectively as AB, AC, and BC, that is, as
the sines of the angles ACD, ABC, BAC, for in every
triangle the sides are as the sines of the opposite angles,
or to express it in symbols, W being the absolute
weight of the body, w the pressure on AC, and tv' the
pressure on BC,
Theorr.
W : tv : ic'rrAB
W : w : «c'=rsin. ACB : s
AC : BC, or
n. ABC : sin. BCA.
But on account of the parallels AB, DF, the angle
ABCrrBCF, and BAC=ACD, therefore the pres¬
sures upon the planes are inversely as the sines of their
inclination, the absolute weight of the body being re¬
presented by the sine of the angle formed by the sur¬
faces of the two planes.
79. Cor. 1. Since the two sides of a triangle are Corollarie!
greater than the third, the sum of the relative weights
supported by the two planes is greater than the absolute
weight of the body.
80. Cor. 2. If the inclination of each plane is 6o°,
then ACB must also be 6o°, and the triangle ABC
equilateral, consequently the pressure upon each plane
is equal to the absolute weight of the body.
81. Cor. 3. When the inclination ef each plane
increases, the pressure which each sustains is also in¬
creased 5 and when their inclination diminishes till it
almost vanishes, the pressure upon each plane is one
half of the absolute weight of the body F.
Prop. ILL
82. If a body is raised with an uniform motion
along an inclined plane, the velocity of the
power is to the velocity of the weight as the
weight is to the power.
Let the weight W be drawn uniformly up the in-^
dined plane AB, from B to D, by a power whose di- ^
rectum is parallel to DH. Upon DB describe the
circle BFEDN, cutting BC in E, and having pro¬
duced HD to F, join FP, FB, FE, and draw DC per¬
pendicular to BD. Now the angles BFD, BED are
right (Geometry, Sect. II. Theor. 17.), and there¬
fore, though the power moves through a space equal to
BD, yet its velocity in the direction DH is measured
by the space FD uniformly described 5 and for the same
reason, though the weight W describes the spacq^H,
yet its velocity in the direction in which it acts, that is,
in a vertical direction,is evidently measured by the space
DE uniformly described. Then because the triangle
DBE is equal to DFE, (Geometry, Sect. II. Theor.
15.) and DBEzrDCH, (Geometry, Sect. IV. Theor.
23.) and FDE=:DHC, (Geometry, Sect. I. Theor.
21.)
MECHANICS. 6r
! Theory. 21.) tlie triangles DFE, DHC are similar, and (Geo-
—y~—1 metry, Sect. IV. Tlneor. 20.) DF : DE~DH : HG
But DH : HGrrsin. DCH . sin. ILDC, that is, (art.
yi.) DF : DE, or the velocity of the power to the ve¬
locity of the weight, as W : P. Q, E. D.
Scholium.
83. The inclined plane, when combined with other
machinery, is often of great use in the elevation of
weights. It has been the opinion of some w riters, that
the huge masses of stone which are found at great alti¬
tudes in the splendid remains of Egyptian architecture,
were raised upon inclined planes of earth, with the aid
of other mechanical powers. This supposition, how¬
ever, is not probable, as the immense blocks of granite
which compose the pyramids of Egypt could not pos¬
sibly have been raised into their present situation by
any combination of the mechanical powers with which
we are acquainted.—The inclined plane has been very
advantageously employed in the duke of Bridgewater’s
canal. After this canal has extended 40 miles on the
same level, it is joined to a subterraneous navigation
about 12 miles long by means of an inclined plane,
and this subterraneous portion is again connected by an
inclined plane with another subterraneous portion about
106 feet above it. This inclined plane is a stratum of
stone which slopes one foot in four, and is about 453
feet long. The boats are conveyed from one portion
of the canal to another by means of a windlass, so that
a loaded boat descending along the plane turns the axis
of the windlass, and raises an empty boat.—A pair of
stairs, and a road that is not level, may be regarded as
inclined planes ; and hence it is a matter of great im¬
portance, in carrying a road to the top of a hill, to
choose such a line that the declivity may be the least
possible. The additional length, which, in order to
effect this purpose, must sometimes be given to the line
of road, is a trifling inconvenience, when compared with
the advantages of a gentle declivity.
Sect. III. O/i the Rope Machine.
84. Definition. When a body suspended by two
more ropes, is sustained by powers which act by the
assistance of these ropes, this assemblage of ropes is
called a rope machine.
Prop. I.
85. If weight is an equilibrium with two powers
acting on a rope machine, these powers are in¬
versely as the sines of the angles which the
ropes form with the direction of the weight.
'ig.p. Let the weight W be suspended by the point B,
where the ropes AB, BC are joined, and let the
powers P,/> acting at the other extremities of the ropes
which pass over the pulleys A, C, keep this weight in
equilibrio, we shall have P : jo=sin. CBD : sin. ABD.
Produce WB to F, and let BD represent the force-
exerted by- W ■, then by drawing DE parallel to AB,
the sides of the triangle BDE will represent the three
forces by which the point B is solicited (Dynamics,
$ 144.), for AB, CR are the directions of the forces
P andp. We have therefore P : p=:DE : BE } but
DE : BE rrsin. DBF : sin. BDE, and on account of Theory,
the parallels DE, AB, the angle BDErrABD, con-
sequent!y P : p-sin. DBE : sin. BDE.
86. Cor. i. W hen the line joining the pulleys is
horizontal, as AC, then P :yirrFC : FA, for FC and
FA are evidently the sines of the angles DBE, BDE.
87. Cor. 2. Any of the powers is to the weight, as
the sine of the angle which the other makes with the
direction of the weight, is to the sine of the angles
which the powers make with one another. For since
DB represents the weight, and BE the power P, we
have BE : BD =siu. BDE : sin. BED 5 but on account
of the parallels DE, AB, the angle DEB~ABC, the
angle made by the direction of the powers, consequent¬
ly BE r BD, that is, p : W—sin. ABF : sin. ABC.
In the same way it may be shown that P : A\—sin.
CBF : sin. ABC. Hence we have P-f-j0 : W~
sin. GBF-f-sin. ABF : sin. ABC, that is the sum
of the powers is to the weight, as the sum of the
sines of the angles which the powers make with the
direction of the weight is to the sine of the angle which
the powers make with one another.
88. Cor. 3. The tw’o powers P,/>, are also directly
proportional to the cosecants of the angles formed by
the direction of the powers with the direction of the
weight. For since P : />=rsin. DBE : sin. BDE, and
by the principles of trigonometry, sin. DBE : sin. DBE
~cosec. BDE : cosec. DBE, w7e have P : yirrcosec.
ABF : cosec. CBF. It is also obvious that P : as
the secants of the angles which these powers form with
the horizon, since the angles which they make with
the horizon are the complements of the angles which
they form with the direction of the weight, and the cose¬
cant of any angle is just the secant of its complement,
therefore P : p—scc. BAF : see. BCF.
Chap. II. On Compound Machines.
89. Definition. Compound machines are those
which are composed of two or more simple machines,
either of the same or of different kinds. The number
of compound machines is unlimited, but those which
properly belong to this chapter, are, 1. The wheel and
axle *, 2. The pulley, 3. The wedge ; 4. The screw $ ;
and, 5. The balance.
Sect. I. On the Wheel and Axle.
90. The wheel and axle, or the axis in peritrochio, yg. 10.
is represented in fig. 9* anc^ consists of a wheel AB, and
cylinder CD, having the same axis, and moving upon
pivots E, F, placed at the extremity of the cylinder.
The power P is most commonly applied to the circum¬
ference of the wheel, and acts in the direction of the
tangent, while the weight W is elevated by a rope
which coils round the cylinder CD in a plane perpen¬
dicular to its axis.—In this machine a winch or handle
EH is sometimes substituted instead ol the wheel, and
sometimes the power is applied to the levers b, b fixed
in the periphery of the wheel 5 hut in all these forms
the principle of the machine remains unaltered.—
That the wheel and axle is an assemblage ox levers will
he obvious, by considering that the very same edect
would be produced if a number of levers were to ra-
62
MECHANICS.
Theory, uiate from the centre C, ami if a rope carrying the
"“"Y—power P were to pass over their extremities, and extri¬
cate itself from the descending levers when they come
into a horizontal position.
91. Axiom. The effect of the power to turn the cy¬
linder round its axis, is the same at whatever point in
the axle it is fixed.
Prop. I.
92. In the wheel and axle the power and weight
will be in equilibrium, when they are to one
another reciprocally as the radii of the circles
to which they are applied, or when the power
is to the weight as the radius of the axle is to
the radius of the wheel.
11. Let AD be a section of the wheel, and BE a sec¬
tion of the axle or cylinder, and let the power P and
■weight W act in the directions AP, WP, tangents to
the circumferences of the axle and wheel in the points
A, B, by means of ropes winding round these circum¬
ferences. As the effect is the same according to the
axiom, let the power and w’eight act in the same plane
as they appear to do in the figure, then it is obvious
that the effort of the power P and weight W will be
the same as if they wrere suspended at the points A, B $
consequently the machine may be regarded as a lever
AFB, whose centre of motion is F. But since the di¬
rections of the power and weight make equal angles
M’ith the arms of the lever, we have (Art. 36.) P : W
rzFB : FA, that is, the power is to the weight as the
radius of the axle is to the radius of the wheel.
’Corollaries. 93. Cor. I. If the power and weight act obliquely
to the arms of the lever in the directions A p, B w,
draw F m Yn perpendicular to A p and B w, and as in
the case of the lover (Art. 51.) there will be an equili¬
brium when P : W—F n : F m. Hence the tangential
direction is the most advantageous one in which the
power can be applied, for FA is always greater than
F m, and the least advantageous direction in ■which the
weight can be applied, for it then opposes the greatest
resistance to the power.
94. Cor. 2. If the plane of the wheel is inclined to
the axle at any angle x, there will Ire an equilibrium
w hen P : W =: semi diameter of the axle : sin. x.
95. Cor. 3. When the thickness of the rope is of a
sensible magnitude, there will be an equilibrium when
_ the power is to the weight as the sum of the radius
of the axle, and half the thickness of its rope, is to
the sum of the radius of the wheel and half the thick¬
ness of its rope ; that is, if T be the thickness of the
rope of the wheel, and i the thickness of the rope of the
axle, there 'will be an equilibrium when P : WzrFB + ^t
: FA-fiT.
96. Cor. 4. If a number of wheels and axles are so
combined that the periphery of the first axle may act
on the periphery of the second wheel, either by means
of a string or by teeth fixed in the peripheries of each,
and the periphery of the second axle on the periphery
of the third wheel, there will be an equilibrium when
the power is to the ■weight as the product of the radii
of all the axles is to the product of the radii of all the
wheels. 'I his corollary may be demonstrated bv the
some reasoning winch is used in Art. 63. for the Com¬
bination of Levers.
97. Cor. 5. In a combination of wheels, where the
motion is communicated by means of teeth, the axle is
called the pinion. Since the teeth therefore must he
nearly of the same size, both in the wheel and pinion,
the number of teeth in each will be as their circum¬
ferences, or as their radii 5 and consequently in the com¬
bination mentioned in the preceding corollary, the
power will be to the weight, in the case of an equili¬
brium, as to the product of the number of teeth in all
the pinions is to the product of the number of teeth in all
the wheels.
Theory.
Prop. II.
98. In the wheel and axle the velocity of the
weight is to the velocity of the power as the
power is to the weight.
If the power is made to rise through a space equal to
the circumference of the wheel, the weight will evi¬
dently describe a space equal to the circumference of
the axle. Hence, calling V the velocity of the power,
v that of the weight, C the circumference of the wheel,
and c that of the axle, we have V \ v~C : c. But by
the proposition P : Wire : C therefore P : Wnu : V.
Scholium.
99. The construction of the main-spring box of the On the
fusee of a watch round which the chain is coiled, is a fusee of a i
beautiful illustration of the principle of the wheel and watch,
axle. The spring-box may be considered as the wheel,
and the fusee the axle or pinion to which the chain
communicates the motion of the box. The jso-wer re¬
sides in the spring wound round an axis in the centre
of the box, and the weight is applied to the lower eir-
cumterence of the fusee. As the force of the spring is
greatest when it is newly wound up, and gradually de¬
creases as it unwinds itself, it is necessary that the fusee
should have different radii, vso that the chain may act
upon the smallest part of the fusee when its force is
greatest, and upon the largest part of the fusee when
its force is least, for the equable motion of the watch
requires that the inequality in the action of the spring
should be counteracted so as to produce an uniform ef¬
fect. In order to accomplish this, the general outline
of the surface of the fusee must be an Apollonian hyper¬
bola, in which the ordinates arc inversely as their re¬
spective abscissae. For further information on this sub¬
ject, see Uccherchcs dcs Mathemat. par M. Parent,
tom. ii. p. 678.: Traite tVPIorhgcrie,par M. Berthoud,
tom. i. chap. 26. $ and Traiie cie ALecanique, par AL de
la Hire, prop. 72.
Sect. II. On the Pulley.
too. Definition.—The pulley is a machine com-on the
posed of awheel with a groove in its circumference,pulley,
and a rope which passes round this groove. The wheel
moves on an axis whose extremities arc supported on a
kind of frame called the block, to which is generally
suspended the w eight to be raised. A system of pulleys
is called a muffle, which is either fixed or moveable ac¬
cording as the block which contains the pulley is fixed
or moveable.
Prop.
MECHANICS.
Theory.
Prop. I.
io r. In a single pulley, oi- system of pulleys where
the different portions of the rope are parallel to
each other, and v/here one extremity of it is
fixed, there is an equilibrium when the power
is to the weight as unity is to the number of
the portions of the rope which support the
weight.
ig. 12.
I?- I3-
S- r4- IS-
102. Case i. In the single fixed pulley A A let the
power P and weight W be equal, and act against each
other by means of the rope PBAW, passing over the
pulley A A ; then it is obvious that whatever force is
exerted by P iu the direction P B A, the same force
must be exerted in the opposite direction TV BA, con¬
sequently these equal and opposite forces must be in
equilibrio ; and as the weight is supported only by one
rope, the proposition is demonstrated, forP: W—I : I.
103. Case 2. In the single moveable pulley, where
the rope, fastened atH, goes beneath the moveable pulley
D and over the fixed pulley C, the weight to be raised
is suspended from the centre of the pulley D by the
blocks, and the power is applied at P in the direction
PE. Nowit is evident that the portions CFjp, HGD
of the rope sustain the weight W, and as they are
equally stretched in every point, each must sustain one
half of W 5 hut ( Case 1.) in the single pulley C the
rope CEP sustains a weight equal to what the rope
CF p sustains ; that is, it sustains one-half of W. Con¬
sequently Pzrf-W, or Wrr 2P, when there is an equi¬
librium ; and since the weight W is supported by two
strings, we have P : W—1 : 2.
104. Case 3. When the same rope passes round a
number of pulleys, the ropes which support the weight W
are evidently equally stretched in every part, and there¬
fore each of them sustains the same weight. Conse¬
quently if there he ten ropes supporting the weight,
each sustains xTsth part of the weight, and therefore
P:=t%W, or W—10P, which gives us P: Wm : 10.
—The pulley in fig. 15. is the patent pulley invented
by Mr White, in which the lateral friction and shaking
motion is considerably removed.
Prop. II.
105. In a system of « moveable pulleys suspended
by separate and parallel ropes, there is an equi¬
librium when P : W=i : 2"; that is, if there are
4 pulleys n—/\y and P : W=i : 2X2X2X2, or
P : W-i : 16.
Kg. 17. This system is represented in fig. 17. where the rope
which carries the power P passes over the fixed pulley
M, and beneath the moveable pulley A, to the hook E
where it is fixed. Another rope fixed at A passes over
B and is fixed at F, and so on with the rest. Then by
Art. 103.
P : the weight at A—1 : 2
The weight at A : the weight at Bm : 2
The weight at B : the weight at Cm : 2
The weight at C : the weight at D or W~I : 25 and
therefore by composition
P : W= i 2 x 2 X 2 x 2 or P : W=x : 16. Q. E. D»
Prop. III.
63
Theory.
106. In a system of moveable pulleys whose num¬
ber is «, suspended by separate and parallel
ropes, whose extremities are fixed to the weight
W, there is an equilibrium when P : W : 1 : 2'1
— 1.
In this systemof pulleys, the rope which sustains the Fig. r3-.'
power P passes over the pulley C, and is fixed to the
weight at I). Another rope attached to the pulley C
passes over the pulley B and is fixed to the weight at
E, and a third rope fastened to B passes over A and is
fixed at F. Then it is manifest that the rope CD
sustains a weight equal to P *, and since the pulley C is
pulled downward with a weight equal to 2 P, the rope
BC must support a weight equal to 2 P, and the rope B
the same weight •, consequently the rope AB sustains
4 P. The whole weight therefore is P + 2P + 4P,
and hence P: W—P : P-|-2P-f-4P, or P : W—1 : 1
“J- 2 -j-4 &c. to n terms, so that P : Wm : 2”—1.
Prop. IV.
107. In the system of pulleys represented inFig. 19.
fig. 19. and called a Spanish barton, in which
two pulleys are supported by one rope, there is
an equilibrium when P : W=i : 4.
In this combination of pulleys, the rope AB which
supports the power P passes over the moveable pulley
A, and beneath C towards H, where it is fixed. Ano¬
ther rope, attached to the pulley A, passes over the fixed
pulley B, and is fastened at E to the pulley C, which
supports the weight W. Then, since the rope AP sup¬
ports 1 pound, the rope AC also supports 1 pound,
and therefore the pulley A, or the rope BA, is pulled
doAvn with a force of 2 pounds. But the rope BDE
is equally stretched with BA, consequently the pulley
C, to which DE is attached, is pulled upwards with a
force of 2 pounds. Now the rope AC supporting 1
pound, the rope GH must likewise support 1 pound,
consequently, since DE sustains 2 pounds, AC 1 pound,
and HG 1 pound, they will together sustain W=4
pounds, and therefore P : W=l : 4.
Prop. V.
108. In the system of pulleys represented in fig. Fig. 20-.
20. called a Spanish barton, where two pulleys
are supported by one rope, there is an equili¬
brium when P : W=i : 5.
In this system the rope PB passes over B round C,
and is fixed at E. Another rope attached to B passes
round AF and is fixed at I to the pulley CD, which
carries the weight W. Now the rope BP being stretched
with a force of 1 pound, the ropes BGC, CD]', are
also stretched with a force of 1 pound each, and the
pulley CD is pulled upwards with a force of 2 pounds.
But since the three ropes BP, ED, and GC, are each
stretched with a force of 1 pound, the pulley B and the
rope BA, upon which they all act in one direction, must
be pulled down with a force of 3 pounds. Now the
rope FI is equally stretched with BA, consequently it
will draw the pulley CD upwards with a force of 3-'
pounds,,
04 MECHANICS.
Theory, pounds, and since it is drawn upwards by the ropes
' v CG, DF, with a force of two pounds, the whole force
will sustain W—5 pounds ; but this force of 5 pounds
is by the hypothesis in equilibrio with P or I pound,
consequently P : W~ 1 : 5.
Prop. VI.
Plate 109. When the ropes are not parallel, and when
CCCXIX. two powers are in equilibrio with a weight by
^ I" means of a pulley, and have their directions at
equal angles to the direction of the weight,
each of these powers is to the weight as the
radius of the pulley is to the chord of that por¬
tion of the pulley’s circumference with which
the rope is in contact.
Let the weight W suspended from C be sustained in
< equilibrio by two powers, P, p, which act by a rope
PCFEp passing over the pulley CHEF, and touching
the arch CFE of its circumference. Then since the
angles PWD, y>WD are equal, and the powers P, p in
equilibrio, P must be equal to p ; and making WA
irrFVB, and drawing AI pax-allel to PW, and BI pa¬
rallel to p\V } WB, BI, WI will respectively repre¬
sent the forces P,p, W or Y : p : WrzWB : BI : WI,
Dynamics, Art. 144. Now the triangles WBI, BDE
having their respectives sides at right angles to each
other, are similar; consequently WB : BI : WI=CD :
DE : EC, that is, Y :p : W=CD . DE : EC ; but
CD, DE are equal to radius, and EC is obviously the
chord of the arch CFE, therefore P : W or p : W as
radius is to the chord of the arch with which the rope is
in contact.
110. Cor. 1. Any of the powers is also to the
weight as radius is to twice the cosine of the angle
which either rope makes with the direction of the
weight. For since CG is the cosine of DCG, and since
CE is double of CG, CE is equal to 2 cosine DCG
~2 Cos. PWD; but P : W—CD : CE, hence we have
by substituting the preceding value of CE, P : W=CD
or radius : 2 Cos. PWD.
Scholium.
hi. By means of this proposition and corollary, the
proportion between the powers and the weight in the
various systems of pulleys, represented in fig. 12, 13,
I5> Id, 17* I8, 19, 20. when the ropes are not
parallel, may be easily found.
Prop. VII.
112. In a system of moveable pulleys, where each
Has a separate rope, and where the ropes are
not parallel, there is an equilibrium when the
power is to the weight as radius is to the cosines
of half the angles made by the rope of each
pulley, multiplied into that power of 2 whose
exponent is the number of pulleys.
fiS. 2. I^et the power P sustain the weight W by means of
the pulleys A, B, C; let P, p, tt be the different powers
^PP°rt the pulleys. A, B, C, and let MAP,
lYBA, IvCB be the angles formed by the ropes. Then,
by the last proposition,
2
P :yj=:rad. : 2 cos. MAP Theory,
p : w=rad. : 2 cos. NBA —
7T: W—rad.: 2 cos. RCB, consequently
P : Wzrrad.: 2 cos. MAP X 2 cos. NBA X 2 cos.RCB,
or, which is the same thing,
P : W—rad. : 2 X 2 X 2 X cos. MAP X cos. NBA X
cos. RCB.
Prop. VIII.
113. In a single pulley, or in a combination of
pulleys, the velocity of the power is to the ve¬
locity of the weight as the weight is to the
power.
114. Case i. In the single fixed pulley, it is ©bvi-Fig. I2.
ous, that if the weight W is raised uniformly one inch,
the power D will also describe one inch, consequently
velocity of P : velocity of W — \\ : P.
115. Case 2. In the single moveable pulley, when rig.
the weight W is raised one inch, the ropes become one
inch shorter; and since the rope has always the same
weight, the power must describe two inches, therefore
velocity P : velocity W—W : P.
116. Case 3. In the combination of pulleys, in Figs. 14,1
figs. 14, 15, 16, when the weight rises one inch, each ^
of the four strings becomes an inch shorter, so that P
must describe four inches, as the length of the rope is
invariable ; consequently velocity P : velocity W rr
W : P.
117. Case 4. In the system exhibited in fig. 17. it Fig. 17.
is evident, that when the weight W rises one inch,
the rope DC is lengthened two inches, the rope CB
four inches, the rope BA eight inches, and the rope
AFP, to which the power is suspended, 16 inches ; so
that since the power of this pulley is as 16 to 1, we
have velocity P : velocity W=W : P.
118. Case 5. In the combination of pulleys, repre-Fig. 18.
sented in fig. 18. when the weight W rises one inch,
all the three ropes CD, BE, AF are each shortened
one inch. But while CD shortens one inch, CP be¬
comes one inch longer ; while BE shortens one inch, BC
becomes one inch longer, and CP two inches longer
(art. no.) ; and while AF shortens one inch, AB be¬
comes one inch longer, BC two inches longer, and
CP four inches longer ; therefore CP is lengthened al¬
together seven inches, and as the power of the pulley
is as 7 to 1, we have, as before, velocity P : velocity
W=W : P.
119. Case 6. In the system of pulleys called the Fig. 19.
Spanish barton, fig. 19. when the weight W rises one
inch, the three ropes AC, DE, HG are each shorten¬
ed one inch. By the shortening I1G, CA one inch
each, the rope AP is lengthened two inches; and by
the shortening of DE one inch, BA is lengthened one
inch, and AP two inches (art. 115.) ; consequently
since AP is lengthened in all four inches, and since the
power of the pulleys is four, we have velocity P : velo¬
city W=W : P.
120. Case 7. In the other Spanish barton, in fig. 20. Fig. 201
when the weight is elevated one inch, the three ropes
DE, IF, CG are each one inch shorter. While ED,
and CG shorten one inch each, BP is lengthened two
inches.
MECHANIC S.
Theory, inches, ami while IF becomes one inch shorter, AB be-
—y-—-'comes one inch longer; but when AB is lengthened
one inch, BP becomes one inch longer, and ED, CG
one inch shorter each, and by this shortening of ED,
CG, the rope B is lengthened two inches, therefore,
since the rope BP is lengthened altogether five inches,
and since the pulleys have a power of five, we have, as
formerly, velocity P : velocity AY =W : P.
Sect. III. On the Wedge.
121. Definition. A wedge is a machine composed
of two inclined planes with their bases in contact; or,
more properly, it is a triangular prism, generated by
the motion of a triangle, parallel to itself, along a
straight line passing through the vertex of one of its
angles. The wedge is called isosceles, rectangular,
Plate or scalene, according as the triangle ABC by which
1 CXIX. tjie wedge js generated, is an isosceles, a rectangular
0 ^ or a scalene triangle. The part AB is called the
head or back of the wedge, DC its altitude, and AC,
BC its faces.—The wedge is generally employed for
cleaving wood, or for quarrying stones •, but all cutting
instruments, such as knives, swords, chisels, teeth, &c.
properly belong to this mechanical power, when they
act in a direction at right angles to the cutting surface 5
for when they act obliquely, in which case their power
is increased, their operation resembles more the action
of a saw.
Prop. I.
122. If each of the faces of an isosceles wedge,
which are perfectly smooth, meet with an equal
resistance from forces acting at equal angles of
inclination to their faces, and if a power act
perpendicularly upon the back, these forces will
be in equilibrio, when the power upon the
back is to the sum of the resistances upon the
sides, as the sine of half the angle of the wedge,
multiplied by the sine of the angle at which
the resisting forces act upon its faces, is to the
square of radius.
Let ABC be the wedge, AC, BC its acting faces,
' J and MD, ND the directions in which the resisting forces
act upon these faces, forming with them the equal angles
DMA, DNB. Draw CD, DF, DE at right angles
to three sides of the wedge, and join F, E meeting CD
in G. On account of the equal triangles CAD, CDB
(Euclid, Book i. Prop. 26.) ADmDB 5 and in the
equal triangles ADM, BDN, MD—ND. In the
same way D F—DE and AI —BE, therefore Clr=CE.
But in the triangles CFG, CEG there are two sides IC,
CG equal to EC,CG, and the angle FCG=ECG, con¬
sequently FCf—GE, and FGC, ABC are both right
angles, therefore FE is parallel to AB.—'Now the force
MD is resolvable into DF, FM, of which FM has no
effect upon the wedge. But, as the effective force ID
is not in direct opposition to the perpendicular force ex¬
erted on the back of the wedge, we may resolve it into
the two forces FG, GD, of which GD acts in direct op¬
position to the power, while FG acts in a direction paral¬
lel to the back of the wedge. In the same way it may be
shewn that EG, GD are the only effective forces which
Vol. XIII. Part I. t
65
result from the force ND. But the forces FG, EG le- Theory,
ing equal and opposite, destroy each other; consequent-
ly 2GD is the force which opposes that which is excit¬
ed upon the back of the wedge, and the wedge will bo
kept at rest if the force upon the back is equal to
2GD, that is, when the force upon the back is to the
sum of the resistances upon the faces as 2GD is to
MD-f-ND, or as 2G D : 2DM, or as GD is to DM.
Now
DG : DFrrsin. DFG : radius, or as (Euclid, vi. 8.)
sin. DCF : radius, and
DF : MD —sin. DMF : radius ; therefore by composi¬
tion,
DG : MDmsin. DCF X sin. DMF : rad. X rad. or
rad.!1. But, DG : MD as the force upon the back
is to the sum of the resistances, therefore the force up¬
on the back is to the sum of the resistances, as sin. DCF
X sin. DMF is to the square of the radius.
123. Con. 1. If the direction of the resisting forces Corollaries,
is perpendicular to the faces of the wedge, DMF be¬
comes a right angle, and therefore its sine is equal to
radius. Consequently we have, in this case, the force
upon the back to the sum of the resistances, as sin. DCF
Xrad. is to radius]*, that is, as sin DCF is to radius,
or as AD half the back of the wedge is to AC the
length of the wedge.
124. Cor. 2. In the particular case in the proposi¬
tion, it is obvious that the forces MF, NE are not op¬
posed by any other forces, and therefore the force upon
the back will not sustain the resisting forces ; but in the
case in cor. 2. the forces MF, NE vanish, and there¬
fore the other forces will sustain each other.
12^. Cor. 3. If the resisting forces act in a direc¬
tion perpendicular to AB, the angle DMI becomes
equal to ACD, and therefore the force upon the back
is to the sum of the resistances as sin. ACD|* is to
radius]*, that is, as the square of AD half the back of
the wedge is to the square of AC the length of the
wedge.
126. Cor. 4. When the direction of the resistances
is parallel to the hack of the wedge, the angle ef in¬
clination DMC becomes the complement of the semi¬
angle of the wedge, and therefore the force upon the
hack is to the sum of the resistances as the sin. ACD
X cos. ACD is to the square of the radius, that is, as
DAxDC is to AC*. But iu the similar triangles
DAF, DAC, we have DF : DArrDC : AC, and D1
X AC—DA X DC, consequently the force upon the
hack of the wedge is to the sum of the resistances as
DF X AC is to AC*, that is, as DF : AC.
Prop. II.
127. If, on account of the friction of the wedge, rig> 3.
or any other cause, the resistances are wholly
effective, that is, if the resisting surfaces adhere
to the places to which they are applied without
sliding, there will be an equilibrium, when the
force upon the back is to the sum of the resist¬
ances, as the sine of the acute angle which the
direftion of the resisting forces makes with the
back of the wedge is to radius.
Join MN, which will cut DC perpendicularly at the
J point
66
MECHANIC S.
Theory, point H. Then, since theibrces MD, ND are resolvable
v-—iato MH, HD and into NH, HD, and since MH, HN
destroy each other, the force upon the back is sustained
by 2 HD. Consequently, the force upon the back is
to the sum of the resistances as 2 HD is to 2 MD, or as
HD is to MD. But the angle ADM, which the direc¬
tion of the forces makes with the back of the wedge, is
equal to DMN, and HD is the sine of that angle, MD
being radius, therefore the force upon the back is
to the sum of the resistances as sin. ADM : radius.
Q. E. D.
Corollaries. 128. Cor. x. Since the angle AMD—MDC-f-MCD,
the angle MBC is the difference between MCD the se¬
miangle of the wedge, and AMD the angle which the
direction of the resisting forces makes with the face of
the wedge, and since HD is the cosine of that angle,
MD being radius, wc have the force upon the back to
the sum of the resistances, as the cosine of the difference
between the semiangle of the wedge and the angle which
the direction of the resisting forces makes with the face
of the wedge, is to radius.
JpROP. HI.
129. When there is an equilibrium between three
forces acting perpendicularly upon the sides of
a wedge of any form, the forces are to one an¬
other as the sides of the wedge.
This is obvious from Dynamics, § 144. Cor. 2.
where it is shewn that when three forces are in equilibrio,
they are proportional to the sides of a triangle, which
are respectively perpendicular to their dfrections.
Prop. IV.
130. When the power acting upon the back of a
wedge is in equilibrio with the resistances op¬
posed to it, the velocity of the power is to the
velocity of the resistance as the resistance is to
the power.
Hg-3* Produce DM to K, and draw CK. perpendicular to
DK. Then, by Art. 122. the power is to the resist¬
ance as MD : DH. Let the wedge be moved uni¬
formly from D to C, and DK is the space uniformly
described by the resisting force in the direction in which
it acts 5 therefore, the velocity of the power is to the
velocity of the resistance as DC : DK.; that is, on ac¬
count of the equiangular triangles DHM, DKC, as
MD : DH 5 that is, as the resistance is to the power.
Sect. IV. On the Screw.
131. Definition. A screw is a cylinder with an
inclined plane wrapped round it, in such a manner, that
the surface of the plane is oblique to the axis of the cy¬
linder, and forms the same angle with it in every part
of the cylindrical surface. When the inclined plane
winds round the exterior surface of a solid cylinder, it
is called a male screw ; but when it is fixed on the in¬
terior circumference of a cylindrical tube, it is called
a female screw. In the female screw, the spiral grooves
formed by the inclined plane on the surface of the cy¬
lindrical tube, must be equal in breadth to the inclined
plane in the male screw, lu order that the one may Tiu'otv
move freely in the other. By attending to the mode
in which the spiral threads are formed by the circum¬
volution of the inclined plane, it will appear, that if
one complete revolution of the inclined plane is deve¬
loped, its altitude will be to its base as the distance be¬
tween the threads is to the circumference of the screw.
Thus, let ahe (fig. 4.) be the inclined plane, whose Hg. 4
base is oc and altitude he, and let it be wrapped round
the cylinder MN. (fig. 5.) of such a size that the points
a, c may coincide. Tj:o surface ah of the plane (fig. 4.)
will evidently form the spiral thread a deb (fig. 5.),
and ah the distance between the threads will be equal to
be (fig. 4.) the altitude of the plane, and the circumfer¬
ence of the screw MN will be equal to a c the base of
the plane. If any body, therefore, is made to rise along
the plane ade b in fig. 5. or along the spiral thread of
the screw, by a force acting in a direction parallel to
a d c b, there will be the same proportion between the
power and the resistance as if the body ascended the
plane ab c (fig. 4.).
132. A male screw with triangular threads is repre-Fig. <>, j,
sented by AB (fig. 6.), and its corresponding female
screw by AB (fig. 7.). A male screw with quadrangu¬
lar threads is exhibited in fig. 8. and the female screw
in which it works in fig. 9. The friction is considera- Ig’ 8'9'
bly less in quadrangular than in triangular threads,
though, when the screw is made of wood, the triangular
threads should be preferred. When the screws are me¬
tallic and large, the threads should be quadrangular; but
the triangular form is preferable in small screws. When
the screw is employed in practice, the power is always
applied to the extremity of a lever fixed in its head.
This is shewn in fig. 10. where AB is the lever acting Fig. 1
upon the screw BG, which works in a female screw in
the block F, and exerts its force in bending the spring
CD.
Prop. I.
133. If the screw is employed to overcome any
resistance, there will be an equilibrium when
the power is to the resistance as the distance be¬
tween two adjacent threads is to the circum¬
ference described by the power.
Let FAK be a section of the screw represented in fig. Fi", 11.
8. perpendicular to its axis j CD a portion of the inclined
plane which forms the spiral thread, and P the power,
which, when applied at C in the plane ACF, will be
in equilibrium with a weight upon the inclined plane
f D. I hen, in the inclined plane, when the direction
of the power is parallel to the base, ive have (Art. 72.)
P: as the altitude of the plane is to the base, or (Art.
I3 r0 as the distance between t\vo threads is to the whole
circumference FKCF. If we suppose another poiver P'
to act at the end of the lever AB, and describe the arch
IIBG, and that this power produces the same effect at
B as die power P did at C, then (Art. 36.), we have
• I — CA : LA, that is, as IKCF is to the circumfer¬
ence HBG . but it was shewn before, that P : W=as
distance betAveen two contiguous threads is to
IKCI 5 therefore, by composition, P'; W as the di¬
stance betAveen tAvo threads is to HBG or the circum¬
ference of a circle Avhose radius is AB. Q. E. D.
134. Cor. I. It is eAudent from the proposition that
the
M E C H
heory. the power does not In the least depend upon the size of
the cylinder FCK, but that it increases with the di¬
stance of that point from the centre A, to which the
power is applied, and also with the shortness of the di¬
stance between the threads. Therefore, if P, p be the
powers applied to two different screws, D, d the di¬
stances of these powers from the axis, and T, t the di¬
stances between the threads 5 their energy in overcom¬
ing a given resistance will be directly as their distances
from the axis, and inversely as the distances of their
threads, that is, P :p—~ : —, or P varies as
it X
Prop. II.
135. In the endless screw, there will be an equi¬
librium when the power is to the weight, as the
distance of the threads multiplied by the radius
of the axle, is to the distance of the power from
the axis of the screw multiplied by the radius
of the wheel.
11. The endless screw', which is represented in fig. 12.
consists of a screw EF, so combined with the wheel and
axle ABC, that the threads of the screw may work in
teeth fixed in the periphery of the w heel, and thus com¬
municate the power exerted at the handles or winches
P, p. Let W' I'epresent the power produced by the
screw at the circumference of the wheel; then, by the
last proposition, P : W' as the distance between the
threads is to the distance of P from the axis of the
screw} hut (Art. 92.) in the wheel and axle W : W as
the radius of the axle is to the radius of the wheel j
therefore, by composition, P : W as the distances of the
threads multiplied by the radius of the axle C, is to the
distance of the power P from the axis multiplied by the
radius of the wheel AB.
Prop. III.
136. When there is an equilibrium in the screw,
the velocity of the weight is to the velocity of
the power, as the power is to the weight.
11. It is obvious from fig. 11. that while the power de¬
scribes the circumference of the circle HBG uniformly,
the weight uniformly rises through a space equal to the
distance between two adjacent threads ; therefore, the
velocity of the power is to the velocity of the weight as
the distance hetw'een the threads is to the arch described
by the power, that is, (by Art. I33.)> as the weight is
to the power.
A N I C S.
67
permitted to ascend and descend without a motion of Theory,
rotation. Then, by a revolution of the screw CD,
the other screw DE will rise through a space equal to
— ■ ■-  , and if the circumference described by the
n+ixn
lever CK be m inches, we shall have P : W:
" +1 X
in ; or P : W=ri : m n X n-|-1.
138. This reasoning will be more perspicuous by .sup-,
posing ji, or the number of threads in CD, to be 12,
and 7<-j_ 1, or the number of threads in DE, will conse¬
quently be 13. Lx-t us suppose that the handle CK is
turned round 12 times, the screw CD will evidently
ascend through the space of an inch, and if the screw
DE is permitted to have a motion of rotation along
with CD, it will also advance an inch. Let the screw
DE be now moved backwards by 12 revolutions, it
will evidently describe a space of J-f- of an inch, and
the consequence of both these motions will be that the
point E is advanced TXT of an inch. But, since DE is
prevented from moving round with CD, the same effect
will be produced as if it had moved 12 times round
with CD, and had been turned 12 times backwards j
that is, it wdll in both cases have advanced TJT of an
inch. Since, therefore, it has advanced -/T of an inch
in 12 turns, it vrill describe only ^ of-/T, or T!~g-of
an inch uniformly at one turn; but if the length of the
lever CK is 8 inches, its extremity K vr!ll describe, in
the same time, a space equal to 16 X 3>i4i6—50.2656
inches, the circumference of the circle described by K *,
therefore the velocity of the Weight is to the velocity
of the power, as of an inch is to 50.2656 inches,
or as 1 is to 7841.4336, that is, (Art. 136.) P : "W
= 1 : 7841.4336. Hence the force of this double
screw is much greater than that of the common screw,
for a common one with a lever 8 inches long must have
156 threads in an inch to give the same power, which
would render it too v'eak to overcome any considerable
resistance.
139. Mr Hunter proposes * to connect with his * Pint.
double screws, a w heel and a lantern, which are put in Trans, vol.
motion by a winch or handle. The poiver of this com-*XX1'f*'
pound machine is so great, that a man, by exerting a
force of 32 pounds at the winch, will produce an efiect
of 172100 pounds; and if we suppose ^ of this effect
to he destroyed by friction, there will remain an efl'ect
of $7600 pounds.—-In some screws it would he advan¬
tageous, instead of perforating the male screw CD, to
have tw'o cylindrical screw's of different kinds at differ¬
ent pr.; Is of the same axis.
Prop. IV.
137. To explain the construction and advantages
See Phil, of Mr Hunter’s double screw *.
■"ms. vol. _ 1 t) *
«. p. 58. Let the screw CD work in the plate of metal BA,
and have n threads in an inch : the cylinder CD, of
‘v 1 v which this screw is formed, is a hollow tube, which is
also formed into a screw, having n-j-i threads in an
inch, and into this female screw is introduced a male
screw DE, having, of course, «-f-i threads in an inch.
The screw DE is prevented from moving round with
CD by the frame ABGF and the cross bar a l\ but is
Scholium.
140. The screw is of extensive use as a mechanical
power, when a very great pressure is required, and is very
successfully employed in the printing press. In the press
which is used for coining money, the power of the screw
is advantageously combined with an impulsive force,
which is conveyed to the screw by the intervention of
a lever. The screw is also employed for raising water,
in which form it is called the screw of Archimedes
(Hydrodynamics, § 32^)? an(^ ^ ^,as been lately
employed in the flour mills in America for pushing the
flour which comes from the millstones, to the end of a
long trough, from which it is conveyed to ether parts
68
Theory, of the machinery, in order to undergo the remaining
—v—■ ' processes. In this case, the spiral threads are very
large in proportion to the cylinder on which they are
fixed.
141. As the lever attached to the extremity of the
screw moves through a very great space when compared
with the velocity of its other extremity, or of any body
which it puts in motion ; the screw is of immense use
in subdividing any space into a great number of minute
parts. Hence it is employed in the engines for dividing
mathematical instruments, and in those which have been
recently used in the art of engraving. It is likewise
of great use in the common wire micrometer, and in the
divided object-glass micrometer, instruments to which
the science of astronomy has been under great obliga¬
tions. See Micrometer.
Sect. V. On the Balance.
Plate I42, Definition. The balance, in a mathematical
CCCXX. sense, is a lever of equal arms, for determining the
Fig- 1. weights of bodies.—The physical balance is represented
in fig. 1. where FA, FB are the equal arms of the ba¬
lance, F its centre of motion situated a little above the
centre of gravity of the arms, FI) the handle which al¬
ways retains a vertical position, P, W the scales sus¬
pended from the points A, B, and CF the tongue or
index of the balance, which is exactly perpendicular to
the beam AB, and is continued below the centre of
motion, so that the momentum of the part below F is
equal and opposite to the momentum of that part which
\ is above it. Since the handle FD, suspended by the
hook H, must hang in a vertical line, the tongue CF will
also be vertical when its position coincides with that of
FD, and consequently the beam AB, which is perpen-
M E C H A N I C S.
dicular to CF, must be horizontal. When this happens, Theory,
the weights in the scale are.evidently equal. 1 y-.
Prop. I.
143. To determine the conditions of equilibrium
in a physical balance.
Let AOB be the beam, whose weight is 8, and let Fig. 2.
P, Q be equal weights expressed by the letter p, and
placed in the scales, whose weights are L and /. Let
O be the centre of motion, and g the centre of gravity
of the whole beam, when unloaded j we shall have in the
case of an equilibrium,
I. p-j-L x AC=rp-f-^X FC-f-S xCe; for since S is
the weight of the beam and g its centre of gravity, its
mechanical energy in acting against the weights p-j-L
is —5 X Ce, the distance of its centre of gravity from
the vertical line passing through the centre of motion
O.  
II. But since AC—BC ; p X AC—pxBCrrro.
Then, after transposition, take this from the equation
in N° I. and wre shall have,
III. /X BC—L X AC + S X Cc y or L—1=~^.
Let us now suppose that a small weight u> is
placed in the scale L, the line AB which joins the
points ol suspension will be no longer horizontal, but
will assume an inclined position. Let BAzrrip be the
angle which the beam makes with the direction of gra¬
vity. Then by resolving the weight of the beam which
acts in the direction O z, the parts and ^
in equilibrio, and we shall have,
% O
— will be
IV. p-j-L x AO x Sin. a AO+ S x OGx Sin.<?>=p-J-/+ x BO x Sin. ABO-f-S X C c x Cos. <p.
But since the sines and cosines of any angles, are the same as the sines and cosines of their supplement, we have,
V. p-j-L X AC x Cos.<p—Oc x Sin.<p + S X OG x Sin.p-p-H+tc X AC x Cos.<p-j-OC xSin.<p+S X Cc X Cos.tp.
Hence by N° HI. we have,
VI. Tang. <pz=-
w x AC
2p-}-L -j-/-f m x OC-j-S x OG
But the force v, with which the balance at¬
tempts to recover its horizontal situation, is the excess
of momenta with which one arm is moved, above
the momenta with which the other arm is moved,
therefore
2p4-L-f-/x OC x Sin.-|-S x OG x Sin. <p.
144. A more extended illustration of these conditions
of equilibrium will be found in an excellent paper by
Euler, published in the Comment. Petropol. tom. x. p. 1.
and in another memoir upon the same subject by Kuhne
in the Versuche der naturforchendegesellchhaft in Dant-
zig, tom. i. p. 1.—See also Hennert’s Cursus Matheseos
applicatce, tom. i. § 123. From the preceding for¬
mulae, the following practical corollaries may be de¬
duced.
145. Cor. 1. The arms of the balance must be ex¬
actly equal in length, which is known by changing the
weights in the scales; for il the equilibrium continues,
the arms must be equal.
146. Cor. 2. 4 he sensibility of the balance increases
with the length of the arms.
147. Cor. 3. If the centre of motion coincides with
the point C and the centre of gravity, the balance will
be in equilibno in any position, and the smallest weight
added to one of the scales will bring the beam into a
horizontal position. The centre ol motion, therefore,
should not coincide with the centre of gravity.
148.. Cor. 4. If the centre of motion is in the line
which joins the points of suspension, the accuracy of the
balance will be increased. I he excess of the weights
may be easily determined by the inclination of the
beam, pointed out by the tongue or index upon a cir¬
cular arch fixed to the handle, or more accurately by
means of two divided arches fixed near the points of
suspension, on a stand independent of the balance.
When the value of one of these divisions is determined
experimentally, the rest are easily found, being propor¬
tional to the tangents of the inclination of the beam.
I49*
M E C H A N I C S. 69
■heory I49- Cor. 5. The sensibility of the balance will in-
1 -y-—i crease, the nearer that the centre of gravity approaches
to the centre of motion.
150. CoR\ 6. If the centre of gravity is above the
centre of motion, the balance is useless.
Scholium.
may be easily determined by the common geometry. Theory?
The application of the method of fluxions, however, to —v~-~
this' branch of mechanics is so simple and beautiful, that
ivc shall also avail ourselves of its assistance. The centre
of gravity has been called, by some writers, the centre
of position, and by others, the centre of mean distances.
1. A balance with all the properties mentioned in
the preceding corollaries, has been invented by M.
] line’s Knhne, and described in the work already quoted (Art.
1 nice. 144.). It is so contrived that the points of suspension
may be placed either above the centre of motion or be¬
low it, or in the line of its axis : the beam is furnished
with an index, which points out the proportion of the
weights upon a divided scale, and the friction of the
axis is diminished by the application of friction wheels.
.. 152. In order to get rid of the difficulties which at¬
tend the construction of the tongue, the handle, and the
1 seikn’s arms of the balance, M. Magellan invented a very ac-
1 wee. curate and moveable one, in which there is no handle,
and where one of the arms acts as a tongue. The body
to be weighed and the counterpoise are placed in the
same scale, so that it is of little consequence whether
the arms of the balance are equal or not. In this ba¬
lance the centre of motion can be moved to the smallest
distance from the centre of gravity. See Journal dc
Physique, Jan. 1781. tom. xvii. p. 43.
(Ham's 153. The balance invented by Ludlam, and described
lance. in the Philosophical Transactions for 1765? N0 55* ^e_
; pkte pends upon iEpinus’s property of the lever, which we
f-1-have explained in Art 65. The angular lever AFB,
li’' in which AF—FB, is moveable round f which is equi¬
distant from A and B. The weight P is suspended by
a thread from A, and the body W, which is to be
weighed, is suspended by a thread from B. Hence it
is obvious, that with different bodies the lever AFB
will have different degrees of inclination, and the index
or tongue LF/, which is perpendicular to AB, will
form different angles ZFL, h\ f with the line of direc¬
tion ZF h. Now, by Art. 57'. and by substituting for
/; B, 6 A the sines of the angles F £B, F b A, to which
they are proportional, and also by taking instead of
F & B the difference of the angles fYP, f F h, and in¬
stead of AF h, the sum of these angles, we shall have
P—W _ AFB
Tang,/F x Tang. 2 ,
whence, by transposition, and by
VIII. Sect. IV.
    AFB
P+W: P—WzrTang.-
Geometry, Theor.
.: Tang. f¥ h.
Hence, when the angle formed by the arms of the ba¬
lance, and the angle of aberration f I b or Z1L, are
known, the weights may be found, and vice versa.
Chap. IV. On the centre of Inertia, or Gravity.
154. Definition.—The centre of inertia, or the centre
of gravity, of any body or system of bodies, is that point
upon which the body or system of bodies, when influ¬
enced only by the force of gravity, will be in equilibrio
in every position. The centre of inertia of plane sur¬
faces bounded by right lines, and also of some solids
Prop. I.
155. To find the centre of inertia of any number
of bodies, whatever be their position.
Let ABCD be any number of bodies influenced by 4
the force of gravity. Suppose the bodies A, B connect¬
ed by the inflexible line AB considered as devoid of
weight, then find a point F, so that the weight of A :
the weight of B~BF : FA. The bodies A, B will
therefore be in equilibrio about the point I in every
position (Art. 36.), and the pressure upon F ivill be
equal to A-f-B. Join FC, and find the point f so that
A-j-B : C—Cf:/F •, the bodies A, B, C, will conse¬
quently be in equilibrio upon the point f which will
sustain a pressure equal to A-f-B-f-C. Join D /i and
take the point <p, so that A-{-B-j-C: D=r<p I) : <pf',
the bodies A, B, C, D will therefore be in equilibrio
about the point which will be their common centre
of inertia, and which supports a weight equal to A-J-B
-J-C-f-D. In the same manner we may find the centre
of inertia of any system of bodies, by merely connect¬
ing the last fulcrum with the next body by an inflexible
right line, and finding a new fulcrum from the magni¬
tude of the opposite weights which it is to sustain.
156. Cor. 1. If the weights of the bodies A, B, C, D
be increased or diminished in a given ratio, the centre of
inertia of the system will not be changed, for the posi¬
tions of the points F, /, cp are determined by the rela¬
tive and not by the absolute weights of the bodies.
137. Cor. 2. A motion of rotation cannot be com¬
municated to a body by means of a force acting upon its
centre of inertia } lor the resistances which the inertia
of each particle opposes to the communication of motion
act in parallel directions, and as they are proportional to
the weights of the particles, they will be in equilibria
about the centre of gravity.
Prop. II.
158. To find the centre of inertia of any number
of bodies placed in a straight line.
Let A, B, C, D, E be any number of bodies whose^ ^
common centre of gravity is cp. In the straight line AE
take any point X. Then since all the bodies are in equili-
brio about their common centre of gravity cp, we have
by the property of the lever (Art. 36.) AxA<p-{-
]B xTFp=C x C<p+ b + D <P-J-E X Ep 1 but since X cp
 XA“A<p, and X <p—XBrrB <p, and so on with the
rest, we have by substitution Ax X <p—XA-J-B X
-XBrrC x X <p—XC+D x —XD+Ex
y^_XE. Hence, by multiplying and transposing,
re obtain Ax~X?+BxXj>+Cx^ +]) X ,^_g +
x X X<?=A x XA+BxXB-f C x XC-f D xXD +
IX XE, then dividing by A-J-B+C + D + E, we
iave . X?
MECHANICS.
Fig. 6.
v _ AxXA+BxXB+CxXC+DxXD + ExXE
A<p- A+B-fC + D+E
Tlieorr,
NowAxXA, BxXB, &c. are evidently the mo¬
menta of the bodies A, B, &c. and the divisor A-j-B
-J-C-j-D-f-E is the sum of the weights of all the bodies }
therefore the distance of the point X from the centre of
gravity <p is equal to the sum of the momenta of all the
weights divided by the sum of the weights.
159. Cor. I. If the point X bad been taken between
A and E, at x for example, then the quantity A X XA
would have been reckoned negative, as lying on a dif¬
ferent side of the point X.
160. Cor. 2. From this proposition we may deduce a
general rule for finding the centre of gravity in any body
or system of bodies. Let any point be assumed at the
extremity of the system, then the product of the mo¬
menta of all the bodies, (or the product arising from the
continual multiplication of each body by its distance from
the point), divided by the sum of the weights of all the
bodies, will be a quotient which expresses the distance
of the centre of gravity from the point assumed.
Prop. III.
161. If, in a system of bodies, a perpendicular be
let fall from each upon a given plane, the sum
of the products of each body multiplied by its
perpendicular distance from the plane, is equal
to the sum of all the bodies multiplied by the
perpendicular distance of their common centre
of inertia from the given plane.
Let A, B, C be the bodies which compose the sys¬
tem, and MN the given plane ; by Art. 155. find F
the centre of inertia of A and B, and G the centre of
gravity of the three bodies ; and from A, F, B, G, C
draw Afl, Y f\ B G g, C c perpendicular to the plane
MN. Through F draw x F y, meeting A a produced
in xy and B b in y, then in the similar triangles Kx F,
B y F, wre have A x : B y=rAF : BF, that is, (Art.
155.) as B : A, lienee A X A a-zrE X B y, that is,
A X^—A 0=B XB b—y by or on account of the
equality of the lines x a, Yf, B b ; Ax YJ-—A a=B
X B b—F/, therefore, by multiplying and transposing,
we have A-}-B X Ff— Y X A«-f- B x B b. In the very
same way, by drawing w G 2; parallel to the plane, it
may be shewn that A-f-B-j-CXGgnAx A «-{-B
XB^+CxCc. Q. E. D.
162. Cor. By dividing by Arf-B-f-C wre have
G—
Ax Ac-j-BxB i+CxC c
A-f-B-j-C
Prop. IV.
163. To find the centre of inertia of a straight
line, composed of material particles.
If we consider the straight line as composed of a
number of material particles of the same size and den¬
sity, it is evident that its centre of inertia will be a
point in the line equidistant from its extremities. For
-rif we regard the line as a lever supported upon its mid-
3
die point as a fulcrum, it will evidently be m equiiibrio,
in every position, as the number of particles or weights
on each side of the fulcrum is equal.
Prop. V.
164. To find the centre of inertia of a parallelo¬
gram.
Let ABCD be a parallelogram of uniform density, Fig. -
bisect AB in F, and having drawn Yf parallel to AC
or BD, bisect it in <p ; the point <p will be the centre
of inertia of the parallelogram. The parallelogram may
be regarded as composed of lines AB, a b parallel to
one another, and consisting of material particles of the
same size and density. Now, by Art. 155. the centre of
inertia of AB is F, and the centre of inertia of a & is c;
and in the same w^ay it may be shewn that the centre
of inertia, of every line of which the surface is com¬
posed, lies in the line Y f. But Yf may be considered
as composed of a number of material particles of uni¬
form density, each being equal in weight to the par ¬
ticles in the line AB, therefore by Art. 165. its centre
of inertia wall he in <p, its middle point.
Prop. VI.
165. To find the centre of inertia of a triangle.
Let ABC be a triangle of uniform density, and let r (ri.
AB, EC be bisected in the points E, D. Join CE, “ *
AD, and the point of intersection F shall be tbe
centre of inertia of tbe triangle ABC. The triangle
may be considered as composed of a number of parallel
lines of material particles BC, be, /3 x; but in the
similar triangles ADC, Aec ; AD : DCrrAc : ec,
and in the triangles ADC, ADB, Aeb; BD : DA =
be : eA; hence by composition BD : DC—:6 c : ec ;
but BD and DC are equal 5 therefore, b e=e c ; and
the line b c, supposed to consist of material particles,
will lie in equiiibrio about e. In tbe same way it may
be shewn that every other line (Z*. will he in equilibi'io
about a point situated in the line AD 5 consequently
the centre of gravity is in that line. For the same rea¬
son it follows, that the centre of gravity is in the line
CE, that is, it will be in F, the point of intersection of
these two lines. In order to determine the relation be¬
tween FA and FD, join ED ; then, since BE=EA,
and BD—DC, BE : EA—BD : DC, and consequent¬
ly, (Geometry, Sect. IV. Theor. 18.) ED is pa¬
rallel to AC, and tbe triangles BED, BAC similar.
We have, therefore, CA : CB—DE : DB, and by al- -
ternation CA : DE—CB : DB, that is, CA : DE—
2 : 1. In the similar triangles CFA, DFE, AF . AC=
DF : DE, and by alternation AF : DF—AC : DE,
that is, AF : DF—2 : 1, or AFrr-fAD.
166. Cor. 1. By Geometry, Theor. 16. Sect. IV.
we have
AB*-f-AC2—aBDJ-f-2AB2(=: jBC2-j-|AF“
AB1-f-BC2—ICC2 -fgBG1 — \AC^-CF2
AC2-f- BC2— 2AE*4- 2EC2 — fAB*q-!BF2.
By
M E C II
theory. adding these three equations, and removing the
—y——'fractions, we have AB^-f-BC^-j-AC2—3 Al'*-j-3 t'F"
-(-3BF2, or in any plane triangle, the sum of the squares
of the three sides is equal to thrice the sum of the
squares of the distances of the centre of gravity from
each of the angular points.
167. Cor. 2. By resolving the three quadratic equa¬
tions in the preceding corollary, we obtain AF^r-J-
J ^VB^TiC^-lIC^-, G F-1J 2 B A2+2~BCAl.
AC2; and BF=f^/2BC2-|-2ACI—AB% formulae
which express the distances of the centre of gravity
from each of the angular points.
Prop. VII.
168. To find the centre of inertia of a trapezium
or any rectilineal figure.
Fig. 9. Let ABCDE be the trapezium, and let it be divid¬
ed into the triangles ABC, ACE, ECD by the lines
AC, EC. By the last proposition find «, 0, the
centres of gravity of the triangles, and take the point
E in the line m n, so that F « : F wntriangle ABC :
triangle ACE, then F will be the centre of gravity of
these triangles. Join F 0, and find a point f, so that
f 0 : Yf— triangle ABC + triangle ACE : triangle
CED, then all the triangles will be in equilibrio about
f, that is, fis the centre of gravity of the rectilineal
figure ABCDE. The same method may be employed
in finding the centre of gravity of a trapezium, what-
ever be the number of its sides.
Prop. VIII.
169. To find the centre of inertia of a pyramid
with a polygonal base.
ig- io< Let the pyramid be triangular, as ABCD, fig. 10.
Bisect BD in F, and join CF and FA. Make F,/—
F of FC, and F of FA, and draw^bp. It is evi¬
dent, from Art 159. that f is the centre of gravity of
the triangular base BCD, and that the line AF, which
joins the vertex and the point f, will pass through the
centre of gravity of all the triangular laminae or sec¬
tions of the pyramid parallel to its base ABC ; for, by
taking any section bed, and joining c in, it may be
easily shewn, that b m~m d, and m n~\m c, so that
n is the centre of gravity of the section bed. It fol¬
lows, therefore, that A f will pass through the centre
of gravity of the pyramid. In the same way it may be
shewn, by considering ABD as the base, and D the
vertex, and making F<p = yFA, that the centre of gra¬
vity lies in the line <p C. But, as the lines A^ <p C lie
in the plane of the triangle AFC, they must intersect
each other; and therefore the point of intersection
H will be the centre of inertia of the triangular pyra¬
mid. Now, since F /i= FFC, and F <p~yFA, we have
Ftp: FA—Ff: FC, therefore (Geometry, Thecr. 8.
Sect. IV.) ip/'is parallel to AC. The triangle (p fYi.
will consequently be similar to AFIC, and II <p : HC
=Hf: HArr/’p : AC=:i ; 3 ; therefore H tptnfHC
p C, and/H=f AH=iA/
170* When the pyramid has a polygonal base, it
may be conceived to he formed of a number of triangular
pyramids, whose centres of inertia will he in one plane
parallel to the base. Their common centre of gravity
will therefore be in the same plane, and in the line.
A N r c s.
drawn from the vertex to the centre of gravity of all
the triangles which compose the base; the distance of
the-centre ot gravity, therefore, from the vertex, will
he equal to three-fourths of the altitude of the py¬
ramid.
171. Cor. I. Hence it is obvious, that the centre of
gravity of a right cone is a point in its axis, whose di¬
stance from the vertex is equal to three-fourths of the
length of the axis ; for as this may he demonstrated of
a pyramid whose base is a polygon, with an infinite
number of sides, it must hold also of a right cone
which may he considered as a pyramid of this descrip¬
tion.
172. Cor. 2. By proceeding as in Art. 160. it
will he found, that in a triangular pyramid, the di¬
stance of any of the vertices from its centre of iner¬
tia, is equal to one-fourth of the square root of the
difterence of thrice the sum of the squares of the three
edges which meet at that vertex, and the sum of the
squares of the other three edges;—and likewise, that
tbs sum of the squares of the distances of the centre of
inertia from the vertices of any triangular pyramid,
is equal to one-fourth of the sum of the squares of the
six edges of the pyramids. A demonstration of these
theorems may he seen in Gregory’s Mechanics, vol. L
p. 59, 6c.
173. In order to shew the application of the doc¬
trine of fluxions to the determination of the centre of
inertia of curve lines, areas, solids, and the surfaces
of solids, let ABC he any curve line whose axis is BR.Fig. n*
Then, since the axis bisects all the ordinates DG, AC,
each of the ordinates, considered as composed of mate¬
rial particles, will be in equilibrio about the points of
bisection E, II ; and therefore the centre of inertia of
the body will lie in the axis. But, if we consider the
body as composed of a number of small weights D dg G,
we shall find its centre of inertia by multiplying each
weight by its distance from any line m n parallel to the or¬
dinates, and dividing the sum of all these products by the
sum of all the particles, Art. 158" Thus, let x denote the
distance EB, then its fluxion x will be the breadth of,
the element or small weight D rfg- G, and x X DG will
represent the weight, and the fluent of this quantity will
be the sum of all the weights. Again, if we multiply the
weight I’ X DG by a;—EB its distance from the point B,
we shall have the momentum of that weight =a?X x X
DG, and the fluent of this quantity will express the sum
of the momenta of all the weights into which the body is
divided. But, by Art. 158. the distance of the centre of
gravity from a given point B is equal to the sum of all
the momenta divided by the sum of all the weights or
bodies, that is, if F be the centre of gravity of the
body ABC, we have iB=:   —01
fluent of ar X HG
calling y the ordinate DE, we have DG__.2y, and FB
_fluent of* 2y* or FB--UCnt in the case
fluent of 2 3/ a? fluent y x
of areas.1
4. In the case of solids generated by rotation, the-
5nt or small weight F a; X LG will he a circular
element or
section
72
Fit
M E C H
Theory, section, whose diameter is 2 DE=r 2 ?/, and since the
””v—"area of a circle is equal to its circumference multiplied
by its diameter, we have (makings—3. 1416) lie if x,
~the circular section whose diameter is DG 5 and since
x y, 2 7T if x, or 2 tv x if x, will represent the momentum
fluent of 2 .r
of the weight, wc shall have FBzr ri
fluent of 2 ?/* x
fluent of y x x
and dividing by 2 w y, we have FB—  —r- •
fluent of y x
175. In finding the centre of inertia of the surfaces
of solids, the elements or small weights are the circum¬
ferences of circles, whose radii are the ordinates of the
curve by whose revolution the solid is generated. Now,
the surface of the solid may be conceived to be gene¬
rated by the circumference of a circle increasing gra¬
dually from B towards A and C ; making ss therefore
equal to BD, its fluxion 2 multiplied into the peri¬
phery of the circle whose diameter is DG, that is,
2 TV y z, will express the elementary surface or small
Weight whose diameter is DG. Then, since x X 2 tvy
or 2 tv x'y x, will be the momentum of the elementary
weight, we shall have FB—iuent
fluent of 2 tv y •z
viding hy 2 tv we obtain FR—'l V ^
fluent of y 2;
176. If the body, whose centre of inertia is to be
found, be a curve line, as GBD, then it is manifest that
the small weights will be expressed by the fluxion of
GBD, that is, by 2 $s, since GBDrr 2 BD= 2 z ; con¬
sequently their momenta will he 2 x z, and we shall
fluent 2 xz fluent .r fluent x z
Fig. 12.
A N I C S.
vinculum) its value E—.r, and we have GD — floefit
Now,
have FB—-
fluent 2 z
fluent z
in order to find the
z-f • z\ J 2ttx
-±xix=—=y
-xxr*
and di-
Prop. IX.
177. To find the centre of inertia of a circular
segment.
Let AErra’, 11 —y, and AD the radius of the cir¬
cle = K, consequently MEzz2 R—EA. Then, since
by the property of the circle (Geometry, Theor. 28.
Sect. IV.) ME X EA — BEa, we have, by substitution,
BE* = 2 R X EA — EA x EA, ory1 = 2 R a> — x15
hence y — 2 R x—x*. Now, by Art. 174. we have
the distance of the centre of gravity from A, that is,
. ,, fluent xyz
“ j but the fluent of y x or the sum of
fluent y x
all the weights, is equal to the area of half the seg¬
ment ABEC j therefore AG——x V x Then bv
iabec xnen»,jy
substituting instead of y, in this equation, the value of
it deduced from thj: property of the circle, we have
, f < fluent of x x tj 2 R x—xx
•At» — TBECT 5 or> order to find
GD the distance of the centre of gravity from the cen¬
tre, we must substitute instead of x (without the
Tlieotr
(R—,r)a‘(2 R x—x1)
fABEC
fluxion of the numerator of the preceding fraction, as¬
sume z rr 2Ra?—.t’*, and 2; 1 ^ — sj 2Ra‘—.r1, and by tak¬
ing the fluxion, we have 25—2 R a?' 2XX~2li — 2 x X X’,
but this quantity is double ol the first term ol the nu¬
merator, therefore - = R—x X x. By substituting these
2
values in the fractional formula, we obtain GDrrfluent
3  
j butsincey— 2Rx—xx f
2 ' 3 3
we have, by raising both sides to the third power, y3 ~
—7t .i c r 3 y3  A X 8y3
2 R 7 therefore G D — xAg£C —
— t that is, the distance of the centre of gravi-
ABEC
ty of a circular segment from the centre of the circle, is
equal to the twelfth part of the cube of twice the ordi¬
nate, (or the chord of the segment) divided by the area
of the segment.
178. Cor. When the segment becomes a semicircle
we have 2 y= 2 r ; and therefore zr GD == =:
(2r)3 8 X r3 r* .t , • ^ j-
.ABEr=7lABEC =Tili5EC’that‘s’ ,he d'5-
tance of the centre of gravity of a semicircle from the
centre of the semicircle, is equal to the cube of the ra¬
dius, divided by one and a half times the area ol the
segment.
Prop. X.
179. To find the centre of inertia of the sector of
a circle.
Let ABDC be the sector of the circle. By Art. 157.
find m the centre of inertia of the triangle BCD, and
by the last proposition find G the centx-e of inertia ot
the segment j then take a point n so situated between
G and m, that ABEC : BCB — m n : G n, then the
point n will be the centre of gravity of the sector.—
By proceeding in this way, it will be found that D v,
or the distance of the centre of gravity of the sector
from the centre of the circle, is a fourth proportional to
the semiarc, to the semichord, and to two-thirds of the
radius.
Prop. XL
180. To find the centre of inertia of a plane sur¬
face bounded by a parabola whose equation is
y—a x».
Since y—a xtl, multiply both terms by x x, and x se¬
parately, and we have yx x +1 and y X—a xn x.
But, by Art; 174. we have FB^^l^lf, therefore,
fluent y x
by substituting the preceding values of x y x and yx
in the formula, we obtain FB=~UCnt._?lAAf*!*
fluent
and
MECHANICS.
Theory, and by taking the fluents it becomes
axn+*
OT-j-I
£. li.
FB:
n-\-2
w-j- l
«-j-2
Xv.
and
fluent of cfx^x
by taking the fluents we shall have
&\vJn+2A?
2«+I
FB:
2 «-f-2
,.2r Zn-J-I
2»-f*2
X*1.
2»+I
When the solid becomes a common parabo¬
loid, and we obtain FBzr-jtf.
When «=i, the solid becomes a cone, and FB
as in Art. 171.
Prop. XIII.
182. To find the centre of gravity of a spherical
surface or zone, comprehended between two
parallel planes, or of the spherical surface of
any spherical segment.
Let BMNC be a section of the spherical surface
comprehended between the planes BC, MN, and let
EPrr;v, EC=ry, DC = R, and »= the arc CN. Sup¬
pose the abscissa EP to increase by the small quantity
E 0, draw 0 r parallel to EC, C s parallel to E 0, and
C r perpendicular to DC ; then it is evident, that in
the similar triangles CDE, Csr, EC : DC=C,s :
C r, that is, y : R=C s \ Cr; but C r is the flux¬
ion of the arc NC, and C s the fluxion of the abscis¬
sa PE j therefore y : R=*: z, and zy—Hx, and %
R# fluent of xyz
= Now, by Art. 17 c. FB= ^-r,
y fluent of x y %
therefore, by substituting the preceding value of »
VoL. XIII. Part I. f
in this formula, we obtain FB=
fluent of R « .v
fluent of R a?
, for
R a; a?
R
RyA?A; 2; . t r,
— (and dividing by  r. By
If n, therefore, be equal to f, then y~a at*-, and,
squaring both sides, y,=a1 a?, which is the equation of
the common or Apollonian parabola. Hence, FB=r
£ x, that is, the distance of the centre of gravity from
the vertex is J-ths of the axis.
When n is equal to 1, then y=ax, and the para¬
bola degenerates into a triangle, in which case FB
—j-x, as in Art. 165.
Prop. XII.
181. To find the centre of inertia of a solid, ge¬
nerated by the revolution of the preceding curve
round its axis.
Since y=a xa, square both sides, and we have
a7x%” ; then multiply both sides by x x, and x separately,
we obtain y*xx—dtx2n'txx, and yix~a% xin x. But,
by Art. 174. we have FB—°f ^ 5 therefore,
fluent of y2x
by substituting the preceding values of y2x x, and y*x
. , f , , . -r->r* fluent of a2xin+Ix
m that formula, we obtain r B
x z
Ry;
R x
R A'*
taking the fluents we obtain FB=f f x, a fluent
B x
which requires no correction, as the other quantities
vanish at the same time with x.
183. When DP is equal to DC, the solid becomes
a spherical segment, and EA becomes the altitude
of the segment, so that universally the centre of gra¬
vity of the spherical surface of a spherical segment
is in the middle of the line which is the altitude of the
segment, or in the middle of the line which joins the
centres of the two circles that bound the spherical
segment.
184. When the spherical segment is a hemispheroid,
the centre of gravity of its hemispherical surface is ob¬
viously at the distance of one-half the radius from its
centre.
Prop. XIV.
185. To find the centre of gravity of a circular
arc.
Let BAC be the circular arc, it is required to Fig. 13.
find its centre of inertia, or the distance of the cen¬
tre of inertia of the half arc AC from the diameter
HG 5 for it is evident, that the line which joins the
centres of gravity of each of the semiarcs AB, AC
must be parallel to HG, and therefore the distance of
their common centre of gravity, which must be in that
line, from the line HG, will be equal to the distance of
the centre of gravity of the semiarc from the same line.
Make PC- DK=x ; EC=y; DC=DA=R, and AC
“is, then it may be shewn, as in the last proposition,
that y : R=« : i ; hence syzrR a\ But, by Art. 176.
we have FB~ flUent y being in this case equal
%
to x in the formula in Art. 176. and substituting the
• fluent of R a?
preceding value of y it becomes rBn:   ,
R a? #
and, taking the fluent, we have FB— —, which re¬
quires no correction, as the fluent of y 2; vanishes at the
same time with x. Calling d, therefore, the distance
of the centre of inertia of the arc BAC from the cen-
R a:
tre D, we have dzx , and dz—l&x; hence 2;: aj
’ 2>
=rR : d, or 2 Z .* 2*=R : d, that is, the distance of
the centre of inertia of a circular ate from the centre
of the circle is a fourth proportional to the arc, the
chord of the arc, and radius.
186. When the arc BAC becomes a semicircle, PC
or x is equal to DG or radius, so that we have
22; : 2R=R : dy or 4 Z : 4R=R : d; but 42s is
equal to the whole circumference of the circle, and 4R
K
74
Theory, is equal to twice the diameter ; therefore, 3.141593 : 2
"""V s=R : d; hence d~— = .63662 R.
187. When y is equal to 2R, or when the arc ABC
becomes equal to the whole circumference of the circle,
R.r
x vanishes, and is =0, and therefore ——rro, which
2;
shews, that the centre of inertia coincides with the cen¬
tre of the circle.
| Scholium I.
188. From the specimens which the preceding pro¬
positions contain of the application of the formulae in
Articles 173, 174, 175, 176, the reader will find no
difficulty in determining the centre of inertia of other
surfaces and solids, when he is acquainted with the equa¬
tion of the curves by which the surfaces are bounded,
and by whose revolution the solids are generated.
A knowledge of the nature of these curves, howr-
ever, is not absolutely necessary for the determination
of the centres of inertia of surfaces and solids. A me¬
thod of finding the centre of gravity, without employ¬
ing the equation of the bounding curves, was discover-
•* Mathe- ed by our countryman, Mr Thomas Sims on*. It was
matical afterwards more fully illustrated by Mr Chapman, in
tims ‘ ta~ work on the Construction of Ships j by M. Le-
p IOp# veque, in his translation of Don George J nan’s Trea¬
tise on the Construction and Management of Vessels j
and by M. Prony, in his Architecture Hydraith'cjue,
tom. i. p. 93. to which we must refer such readers as
wish to prosecute the subject.
MECHANICS.
9. In the sector of a circle, the centre of inertia is
Scholium II.
Position of
the centre
various
forms.
distant from the centre of the circle, by a quantity '
which is a fourth proportional to the semiarc, the semi¬
chord, and two-thirds of the radius.
10. In a spherical surface or zone, comprehended
between two planes, the centre of inertia is in the mid¬
dle of the line which joins the centres of the two circu¬
lar planes by which it is bounded. When one of the
circular planes vanishes, the spherical zone becomes
the spherical surface of a spherical segment j there¬
fore,
11. In a spherical surface of a spherical segment, the
centre of inertia is in the middle of its altitude or ver¬
sed sine ; consequently,
12. The centre of inertia of the surface of a com¬
plete sphere coincides with the centre of the sphere.
13. In a spherical segment, the centre of inertia
is distant from the vertex by a quantity equal to
x tf, where a is the diameter of the sphere,
O Cl ma Q CV
and tf the altitude or versed sine of the segment.
Hence,
14. The centre of inertia of a hemisphere is distant
from its vertex by a quantity equal to five-eighths of
the radius, or it is three-eighths of the radius distant
from the hemisphere j and,
15. The centre of inertia of a complete sphere coin¬
cides with the centre of the sphere.
16. In a circular arc the centre of inertia is distant
Rtf
from its centre by a quantity equal to , where R is
Tlieorv,
tf the semichord, and
z
z the
189. As it is frequently of great use to know the po¬
of inertia ‘ $^on t^le centre °f inertia in bodies of all forms, we
bodies of shall collect all the leading results which might have
been obtained, by the method given in the preceding pro¬
positions.
1. The centre of inertia of a straight line is in its
middle point.
2. The centre of inertia of a parallelogram is in the
intersection of its diagonals.
3. The centre of inertia of a triangle is distant from
its vertex two-thirds of a line drawn from the vertex to
the middle of the opposite side.
4. The centre of inertia of a circle, and of a regular
polygon, coincides with the centres of these figures.
5. The centre of inertia of a parallelopiped is in
the intersection of the diagonals joining its opposite
angles.
6. The centre of inertia of a pyramid is distant from
its vertex three-fourths of the axis.
7. The centre of inertia of a right cone is in a point
in its axis whose distance from the vertex is three-fourths
of the axis.
8. In the segment of a circle, the centre of inertia is
distant from the centre of the circle a twelfth part of
the cube of the chord of the segment divided by the
-§0
area of the segment, or d—^-r-, where d — the dis-
tance of the centre of inertia from the centre of the
circle, C = the chord of the segment, and A its
axis.
the radius,
Hence,
17. In a semicircular arc the centre of inertia is dis¬
tant from its centre .63662 R, and,
18. The centre of inertia of the circumference of a
circle coincides with the centre of a circle.
19. In a circular sector the centre of inertia is dis-
2 c R
taut from the centre of the circle , w'here R is the
radius, a the arc, and c its chord.
20. In a spherical sector, composed of a cone and
a spherical segment, the centre of inertia is distant
from the vertex of the segment by a quantity equal to
2 R-j-3 tf
 g , where R is radius, and x the altitude or
versed sine of the segment.
21. In an ellipsis the centre of inertia coincides with
the centre of the figure.
22. I he centre ot inertia of an oblate and prolate
spheroid, solids generated by the revolution of an el¬
lipse round its lesser and its greater axis respectively,
coincides with the centres of the figures.
23. In the segment of an oblate spheroid the centre
of inertia is distant from its vertex by a quantity equal to
4 m—3 x ,
^::: ^ v X tf, where ??i is the lesser axis, or axis of rota¬
tion, and tf the altitude of the segment. Hence,
24- In a hemispheroid the centre of inertia is distant
from its vertex five-eighths of the radius.
25* Tffie centre of inertia of the segment of a prolate
spheroid
Theory-
"‘S- H-
mechanic s.
spheroid is distant from its vertex hy a quantity equal to
i——•)-1 x -v, where n is the greater axis, or axis of
6 m—4 x
rotation.
26. In the common or Apollonian parabola, the dis¬
tance of the centre of inertia from its vertex is three-
lifths of the axis.
27. In the cubical parabola the distance of the cen¬
tre of inertia from its vertex is four-sevenths of the axis,
in the biquadratic parabola five-ninths of the axis, and
in the sursolid parabola six-elevenths of the axis.
28. In the common semiparabola, the distance of its
centre of gravity from the centre of gravity of the whole
parabola, in the direction of the ordinate passing through
that centre, is of the greatest ordinate.
29. In the common paraboloid, the distance of the
centre of inertia from its axis, is equal to of the
axis.
30. In the common hyperboloid, the distance of the
centre of inertia from the vertex is equal •.
4a+3v
X-f,
6a-\-^x‘
where a is the transverse axis of the generating hyper¬
bola, and x the altitude of the solid.
31. In the frustum of a paraboloid, the distance of
the centre of inertia from the centre of the smallest
circular end is
2R2-}-?’2 h
P"_|_ , X —> where h is the distance
between the centres of the circles which contain the
paraboloidal frustum, II the radius of the greater circle,
and r the radius of the lesser circle.
32. In a conic frustum or truncated cone, the dis¬
tance of the centre of inertia from the centre of the
smallest circular end is
3II1 -f- 2Rr -J- r2 h
X — which re-
ll1-}-lir-j-/’2 ' 4
presents the distance between the centres of the circles
which contain the frustum, and R, r the radii of the
circles.
33. The same formula is applicable to any regular
pyramid, R and r representing the sides of the two
polygons by which it is contained.
Prop. XIV.
190. If a quantity of motion Re communicated to
a system of Rodies, tRe centre of gravity of the
system will move in the same direction, and
with the same velocity, as if all the bodies were
collected in that centre, and received the same
quantity of motion in the same direction.
Let A, B, C be the bodies which compose the sys¬
tem, and let F be the centre‘of gravity of the bodies
B, C, and f the centre of gravity of the whole system,
as determined by Art. 155. Then if the body A re¬
ceives such a momentum as to make it move to a in a
second, join F «, and take a point (p so that F <p : p a—
F f: fa, <p will now be the centre of gravity of the
system, f <p the path of that centre will be parallel
to A a, and f cp will be to A « as B is to A-f-B-f-C.
Let the same quantity of motion be now communicated
to B, so as to make it describe the space B in a se¬
cond •, and having drawn G parallel to B b, take a
point G, so that <p G : B/;r=B : A-f-B-f-C, and G
will be the centre of gravity of the bodies after B has
moved to b. In the same way it may be found, that II Theory,
will be the common centre of gravity of the bodies '*>—-v—■
after the same quantity of motion has been communi¬
cated to C in the direction C c. Now if the quantity of
motion which was communicated to A, B, C separately
had been communicated to them at the same instant,
they would have been found at the end of a second in
the points a, b^jc, and their centre of gravity would have
been the point H. Let us now suppose the three
bodies collected in their common centre of gravity f,
the body at F will be equal to A-f-B-f-C, and if the
same quantity of motion which made A move to a
in a second be communicated to the body at f and in
the same direction, it will be found somewhere in the
line f cp at the end of a second. But as the quantity of
motion is equal to the product of the velocity of the
body multiplied by its quantity of matter, the velo¬
cities are inversely as the quantities of matter, and con¬
sequently the velocity of the body at f is to A’s velo¬
city as A is to A-RB-f-C, that is, as <p is to A « ;
therefore A a and f <p are described by A and by the
body at f in equal times, and the body at f will be
found at <p at the end of a second. In the same way it
may be shewn, that the body at f will he found at G
if it receives the same momentum that was given to B,
and in the same direction, and that it will be found at
H after it has received the momentum that was com¬
municated to C, consequently if it received all these
momenta at the same instant, it would have deserihed
y H in a second. Q. E. D.
191. Cor. 1. If the bodies of a system move uni¬
formly in right lines, their common centre of gravity will
either be at rest, or move uniformly' in a right line. For
if the momenta communicated to the bodies A, B, C
were communicated to a body at _/= A -RB -j- C, it will
either remain at rest or move uniformly in a straight
line. See Neivton'>s Principia, I. Sect. III. Cor. 1.
192. Cor. 2. The centre of gravity of any system is
not affected by the mutual action of the bodies which
compose it. For let B and C be two bodies whose
common centre of gravity is F j and let the points /3, x,
he taken, so that B /3 : C x~C : B, the spaces B
C x will represent tke mutual action of the bodies B,
C, that is, B /3 will represent the action of C upon B,
or the motion which is the result of that action, and C x.
the action of B upon C, or the motion which results
from it. Then, since F is the common centre of gra¬
vity of B and C, we have (Art. 135.) B : CrrFC :
FB, but B : C=C jc : B /3, therefore FC : FB—C* :
B <8 •, but C * is a magnitude taken from FC, and B /3
is a magnitude taken from IB, consequently (Playfair’s
Euclidj Book V. Prop. 19.) the remainder * F : /3 F
=FC : FB, that is, x F : /3 F=B : C, that is, (Art.
155.) the point F continues to be the centre of gra¬
vity notwithstanding the action of the bodies B, C. If
the system is composed of several bodies, the same
thing may be proved of every two of the bodies, and
consequently of the whole system. See D'Alembert.?
Dynamique, Art. >]6. and Newton's Principia, I. Sect*
III. Cor. 4.
Prop. XV.
193. If a body is placed upon a horizontal plane,
or suspended by two threads, it cannot be in
K 2 equilibria
76
Tli eon’.
Fig- IS-
MECHANICS.
equilibrio unless a perpendicular drawn from
the centre of gravity to the horizontal plane,
or to a horizontal line passing through the two
threads, fall within the base of the body, or
upon that part of the horizontal line which lies
between the threads.
194. Let ABCD be a body placed in the horizon¬
tal plane CD, G its centre of gravity, and GE a per¬
pendicular drawn to the horizontal line DE. Then the
whole matter of the body ABCD may be conceived
as united in its centre of gravity G, and as its tendency
downwards is in the vertical line GE, it can descend
only by turning round the point C as a centre. Here
then wc have a body G placed at the end of a lever
GC whose fulcrum is C, and its power to turn round
C is represented by the quantity of matter in G multi¬
plied by the perpendicular CE, let fall from the ful¬
crum upon its line of direction 5 and as there is no
force to counterbalance this, the body G, and conse¬
quently the body ABCD, will fall by turning round C.
When the vertical line GE coincides with GC, EC
vanishes, and the weight of the body concentrated at
G has no power to turn the lever round C, but is sup¬
ported upon the fulcrum C. When the vertical line
GE, (by some writers called the line of direction), falls
within the base CD, it is obvious that the weight at
G has no influence in producing a motion round C or
D, but is employed in pressing the body upon the ho¬
rizontal plane ED.
Fig: 16. 195. 2. Let the body ACBD be suspended at the
pointsy", <Z> by the threads hf h' <p, and let G be the cen¬
tre of gravity of the body. Join G <p,Gf draw/ip paral¬
lel to the horizon, and through G draw n 0 parallel to
J <p. Continue /if h'<p to 0 and n, and draw Gi perpen¬
dicular to f p, the body AB cannot be in equilibrio un¬
less the point i falls upon the horizontal line f <f> which
passes through the threads. It is obvious that the centre
of gravity can never change its distance from the fixed
points of suspensionyj <p } if therefore the body is not in
equilibrio, its centre of gravity must descend either to¬
wards m or n; let it descend towards m till it rests at the
point y, then yf—fG 5 but y <p is greater than G p (Eu¬
clid, Book I. Prop. 7.) which is absurd, therefore the
point G cannot descend, that is, the body is in equili¬
brio. It may be shewm in the same way, that it will
he in equilibrio when G is any where between n and 0,
that is, when the perpendicular let fall from G cuts the
horizontal line f <p that lies between the threads. If
the body be suspended by the two threads HE, /i f so
that the perpendicular G i falls without the line f F,
the body is not in equilibrio, for the centre of gravity
G acting at the end of the lever GE tends to turn round
F with a power eqal to G X Gm, it will therefore de¬
scend, and as its distance from cannot change, the
point f will rise, and the thread f h will be relaxed.
When G arrives at m the perpendicular G m vanishes,
and G has no power to turn round F. The body AB
therefore cannot be in equilibrio till the perpendicular
G i falls withinjfF, which it does as soon as it arrives
at m.
196. Cor. 1. If a body is placed upon an inclined
plane, supposed without friction, it will slide down the
plane when the line of direction falls within its base,
and will roll down when this line falls without the base.
This is the reason why a sphere or cylinder rolls down Theory,
an inclined plane j for as they touch the plane only in —v*—*
one point or line, the line of dh*ection must ahvays fall
without the base.
197. Cor. 2. The higher the centre of gravity ofrig. 17
a body is, the more easily will it be overturned. For
if ABCD be the body whose centre of gravity is F,
and if any force be employed to move it round C as a
fulcrum, the power with which it will resist this force
is inversely as FC j then, if the centre of gravity is
raised to f f C will be greater than FC, and the
power with which it resists being overturned is dimi¬
nished, that is, the body is the more easily overturned
the higher that its centre of gravity is placed.
198. Cor. 3. If a body be suspended by one thread,
it will not be at rest unless its centre of gravity is in
the direction of the thread produced, for when the
two threads h f, h' <p approach so near each other as to
coincide with the single thread HE, the point i must
in the case of an equilibrium fall upon F, and the lines
G /, GF must coincide with m F ; but HF and m F
are both perpendicular to the horizontal line /"<p, there¬
fore the centre of gravity G is in the direction of the
the thread HF.
199. Cor. 4. If the bodies A, B, C, fig. 18. be sus-Fig. is,
pended by any point F from the hook H, they ivill
not be in equilibrio unless their common centre of gra¬
vity G is in the vertical line FG passing through the
point of suspension j and in fig. 19. the bodies A, B Fig. 19,
connected by the bent rod AFB will not be in equi¬
librio unless their common centre of gravity G is in a
vertical line passing through F, the point in which the
system rests upon the plane CD.
Scholium.
200. We have seen in the preceding proposition and j)iffereilt
corollaries, the position which must be given to the centre kinds of
of gravity in order to procure an equilibrium. Itisequili-
evident, however, that though the bodies are necessari-
ly at rest, yet they have different degrees of stability,
depending on the position of the centre of gravity with
regard to the centre of motion. Hence bodies are said
to have a stable equilibrium when their centre of gra¬
vity cannot move without ascending, or when the path
described by their centre of gravity has its concavity
upwards j—a tottering equilibrium when the centre of
giavity cannot move without descending, or when the
path which it describes has its concavity downwards,——
and a neutral equilibrium when the body will rest in any
position. Thus in fig. 20. if the vessels A, B have their
handles so placed that in the one the handle A is fixed g‘ 2 "
above the centre of gravity g-, and in the other the handle
B is fixed below the centre of gravity g, then the equi¬
librium of A will be stable, and that of B tottering ;
oi if A is held by the handle it will require a consi¬
derable force to make its centre of gravity describe the
path m n, whereas the smallest force will destroy the
equilibrium of B. The vessel A, too, has a constant ten¬
dency to recover its equilibrium, and always recovers it
as soon as the disturbing force is removed, but the ves-
sel B has no tendency to do this even when its equili¬
brium is affected in the smallest degree. For the same ^ „T
reason the elliptical body A, when resting on the extre- ^ * "
mity of its conjugate axis, has a stable equilibrium, but
when resting on its transverse axis as at B, its equilibri¬
um
lieoi-y-
MECHANICS.
oru is tottering. The equilibrium of a circle or sphere
1 is always neutral, fur when it is disturbed, the body has
neither a tendency to fall nor to resume its former situa¬
tion.—A flat body A supported by a sphere B will
have its equilibrium stable when its centre of gravity is
nearer the point of contact than the centre of the sphere
and the equilibrium of C will be tottering when its
It ' ity.
centre of gravity is farther distant from the surface of
ihe sphere D than the centre of the sphere is.
Prop. XVI.
i. To find the centre of inertia mechanically.
I c'namcal 201. If the body whose centre of inertia is to he
•; sited «-i foun J can he suspended by a thread, then when the bo-
* *r<?cfC M'*■$ in equilibrio, the centre of gravity will be some-
* where in the line, prolonged if necessary, that is form¬
ed by the thread upon the surface of the body. Let a
body he again suspended from another part of its sur¬
face, so that the direction of the thread may be nearly
at right angles to its former direction, then as the centre
of gravity must also he in the new direction of the
thread prolonged, it will be in the point where these
two lines intersect each other.
202. 2. If the body is of such a kind that it cannot
be conveniently suspended, balance it upon two sharp
points, and its centre of motion will be somewhere in
the line which joins these points. Balance it a second
time upon the sharp points, so that the line which joins
the points may be nearly at right angles to the former
line. The intersection of these two lines will be the
centre of inertia of the body.
203. 3. If the body is so flexible that it can neither
be suspended by a thread nor balance upon points, then
let a thin board he balanced upon the points as be¬
fore, and let the body be so placed upon this board
when balanced, that the equilibrium may still continue ;
then, having found the centre of gravity of the hoard
when loaded with the body, the centre of gravity of
the body will be a point on its surface exactly opposite
to that centre.
204. The preceding method, however, only gives us
the centre of gravity when the body has no sensible
thickness, for when it is of three dimensions, the centre
of gravity must be somewhere between the two opposite
surfaces.
205. Definition.—Thecentro-haryc method is the me¬
thod of determining the areas of surfaces, and the con¬
tents of solids, by considering them as generated by mo¬
tion, and by employing the laws of the centre of gravity.
Prop. XVII.
:ntro-
206. If any straight or curve line, or any plane
odof10" surface bounded by straight or curve lines, re-
uldinus. volve round an axis situated in the same plane
with the lines or surfaces, the surface or solid
thus generated will be respectively equal to a
surface or solid whose base is equal to the
given line or surface, and whose height is equal
to the arc described by the centre of gravity of
the generating line or surface.
g Let ABCD he the plane surface by whose revolu¬
tion round the axis MPN is generated the solid a I),
contained by the parallelograms ABCD, abed, and
by the areas a AC c, b BD d, and a AB b, c CD d; let
G he the centre of gravity of ABCD, then the solid
a D shall be equal to a solid whose base is ABCD, and
whose altitude is a line equal to G g, the space describ¬
ed by its centre of gravity G. It is evident from
Ax-t. 161. that the sum of the products of all the
particles of the surface ABCD, multiplied by their
respective distances from anv given point P, is equal
to the sum of all the particles multiplied by the
distance of their common centre of gravity G from the
same point P. Now every particle of the surface
A BCD, during its revolution round the point P, will
obviously describe the arch of a circle proportional to
the distance of that particle from the point P, which is
the centre of all the arches } therefore the sum of the
product of all the particles multiplied by the arch de¬
scribed by each of them, will be equal to the sura of
the particles multiplied by the arch which their com¬
mon centre of gravity describes 5 that is, the solid a D
will he equal to the area of the surface multiplied by
the path of its centre of gravity. In order to have
a dearer illustration of this reasoning, let P, p, tt, &c.
be the particles of the surface ABCD ; D, c?, 3 their
distance from the centre of rotation P, and A, a, <*,
the arches which they describe, while GP is the distance
of the centre of gravity of the surface ABCD from the
centre P, and G g the arch described by it. Then
by Art. 161. PxD-j-pX^+^X^^P+P+^XGP,
hutD: rf: 3:GP=: A: a: a.: Gg, thereforeP X A-|-p X «-f*
VX^^P-f-ii + fl'XGg. But 1JX A-f-pXa + frX*
&c. make up the whole solid a D, and Y-\-p-\-7r, &c.
make up the whole surface ABCD j therefore the solid
c D is equal to the generating surface ABCD multi¬
plied by the path of its centre of gravity. Q. E. D.
207. Cor. 1. Let us suppose the circle BACO to be
generated by the revolution of the line DA round the Fig. 12.
point D •, then since the centre of gravity of the line
DA is in its middle point G, the path of this centre
will be a circumference whose radius is DG, or a line
equal to half the circumference BONAB, therefore,
by the theorem, the area of the circle BONB will be
equal to the radius DA multiplied by the semicircumfer¬
ence, which coincides with the result obtained from the
principles of geometry. See Playfair’s Geometry,
Supp. B. I. Prop. 5. In the same way, by means of
the preceding theorem, we may readily determine the
area of any surface, or the content of any solid that is
generated by motion.
Scholium. .
208. The centro-baryc method, which is one of the
finest inventions of geometry, was first noticed by Pap¬
pus in the preface to the seventh book of his mathema¬
tical collections j but it is to Father Guldinus that we
are indebted for a more complete discussion of the sub¬
ject. He published an account of his discovery partly
in 1635, and partly in 1640, in his work entitled De
Centro Gravitatis, lib. ii. cap. 8. prop.3. and gave an in¬
direct demonstration of the theorem, by showing the con¬
formity of its results with those which were obtained by
other means. Leibnitz demonstrated the theorem in the
case of superficies generated by the revolution of curves,
but concealed his demonstration (Act. Leips. 1695, p>
493x
78
MECHANICS.
Theory. 493- The theorem of Leibnitz, however, as well as that oi
e.—-y—w Guldinus was demonstrated by Varignon in the Me¬
moirs of the Academy for 1714, p. 78. Leibnitz ob¬
serves that the method wrill still hold, even if the centre
round which the revolution is performed be continually
changed during the generating motion. For further
information on this subject, the reader is referred to
Dr Wallis’s work, De Calculo Ccntri Gravitatis, Hut¬
ton’s Mensuration, Prony’s Architecture Hydraulique,
vol. i. p. 88. and Gregory’s Mechanics, vol. i. p. 64.
Prop. XVIIL
209. To show the use of the doctrine of the centre
of gravity in the explanation of some mechani¬
cal phenomena.
On tlie mo c<lu^^)r^um an(l motion of animals we per-
tion ofani"C£ave many phenomena deducible from the properties of
mats. the centre of gravity. W hen we endeavour to rise
from a chair, xve naturally draw our feet inwards, and
rest upon their extremities, in order to bring the centre of
gravity directly below our feet, and we put the body into
that position in which its equilibrium is tottering, a po¬
sition which renders the smallest force capable of pro¬
ducing motion, or of overturning the body. Iq this
situation, in order to prevent ourselves from falling
backwards, we thrust forward the upper part of the
body tor the purpose of throwing the centi’e of gravity
beyond our feet : and when the equilibrium is thus de¬
stroyed, we throw out one of our feet, and gradually
raise the centre of gravity till the position of the body
is erect.—W lien xve xvalk, the body is thrown into
the position of tottering equilibrium by resting it on
one toot ; this equilibrium is destroyed by pushing for¬
ward the centre of gravity, and the body again assumes
the position of tottering equilibrium by resting it on the
other foot. During this alternate process of creating
and destroying a tottering equilibrium, the one foot is
placed upon the ground, and the other is raised from
it; but in running, xvhich is performed in exactly the
same wayr, both the feet are never on the ground at the
same time : At every step there is a short interval,
during which the runner does not touch the ground at
all.
210. When we ascend an inclined plane the body is
thrown farther forward than when we walk on a hori¬
zontal one, in order that the line of direction may fall
without our feet ; and in descending an inclined plane,
the body is thrown backward, in order to prevent the
line of direction from falling too suddenly without the
base. Xn carrying a burden, the centre of gravity is
brought nearer to the burden, so that the line of direc¬
tion would fall without our feet if we did not naturally
lean towards the side opposite to the burden, in order to
keep the line of direction within our feet. When the
burden is therefore carried on the back, we lean for-
ward ; when it is carried in the right arm, we lean to-
wards the left 5 when it is carried m the left arm, we
lean towards the right ; and when it is carried before
the body, xve throw the head backxvards.
2x1. When a horse walks, he first sets out one of
his fore feet and one of his hind feet, suppose the right
loot 5 then at the same instant he throws out his left fore
foot and his left hind foot, so as to be supported only
by the two right feet. His two right feet are then Tlicorv
brought up at the same instant, and he is supported on-
ly by his tx\ro left feet. When a horse pulls at a load
which he can scarcely overcome, he raises both his fore
feet, his hind feet become the fulcrum of a lever, and
the x\reight of the horse collected in his centre of gravi¬
ty acts as a xveight upon this lex er, and enables him to
surmount the obstacle. See Appendix to Ferguson’s
Lectures, vol. ii.).
2X2. When a rope-dancer balances himself upon the Methodia
fore part of one foot, he preserves his equilibrium in txvo which a
xvays, either by throwing one of his arms or his elevated 5'0pe-dancct
foot, or his balancing pole, to the side opposite to that kee?|? ^
toxvards xvhich he is beginning to fall, or by shifting the briuml
point of his foot, on which he rests, to the same side to¬
xvards which he is apt to fall ; for it amounts to the
same thing xxdxether he brings the centre of gravity
directly above the point of support, or brings the point
of support directly beloxv the centre of gravity. For
this purpose the convex form of the foot is of great
use, for if it had been perfectly flat, the point of sup¬
port could not have admitted of small variations in its
position *. * See Dr
213. We have already seen (Art. 197.) that any body T Young')
is more easily overturned in proportion to the height
its centre of gravity. Hence it is a matter of great y0i'
importance that the centre of gravity of all carnages
should he placed as loxv as possible. This may often
be effected by a judicious disposition of the load, of
xvhich the heaviest materials should a]xvays have the
lowest place. The present construction of our mail The con-
and post coaches is therefox-e adverse to every principlestruct onof
of science, and the cause of many of those accidents in mal1 coacli‘
which the lives of individuals have been lost. The
elevated position of the guard, the driver, and the
outside passengers, and the txvo boots xvhich contain
the baggage, raises the centre of gravity of the load¬
ed vehicle to a very great height, and renders it much
more easily overturned than it would otherxvise have
been. When any accident of this kind is likely to hap¬
pen, the passengers should bend as loxv as possible, and
endeavour to throxv themselves to the elevated side of the
carriage.—In tx\ro wheeled carriages xvhere the horse
bears part of the load upon its back, the elevation of
the centi-e of gravity renders the draught more difficult,
by throwing a greater propoi*tion of the load upon the
horse’s back xvhen he is going down hill, and when
he has the least occasion for it j and taking the load
from the hack of the horse when he is going up hill,
and requires to be pressed to the ground.
214. A knowledge of the laxvs of the centi’e of gra-Fig. 24*
vity enables us to explain the experiment represented in
24’ xvhere the vessel of water CG is suspended on a
rod AB, passing beloxv its handle, and resting on the
end E of the beam DE. The extremity B of the rod
AB is supported by another rod BE, xvhich bears a-
gamst the bottom of the vessel ; so that the vessel and
the txvo rods become, as it were, one body, xvhich, by
Ait. 199. xvill be in equjlibrio xvben their common , 1
centre of gravity C is in the same vertical line with the cylinder
point of support E. mJay be
215. Ihe cylinder G may be made to ascend the teas-
clined plane ABC by putting a piece of lead or any
heavy substance on one side of its axis, so that the cen-
tre of gravity may be moved from G towards £. Hence weight.
it
MECHANICS.
’hcory.
i louble
c e may
1 made to
end an
lined
tie by
i own
I flit
3
] ■■ 27.
Plate
CCXXI.
fist. 1.
It Is obvious, that the centre of gravity g will descend,
' and by its descent the body will rise towards A. The
inclination of the plane, however, must be such, that
before the motion commences, the angles formed by a
vertical line drawn from g with a line drawn from G
perpendicularly to AB, must be less than the angle of
inclination ABC, or, which is the same thing, when
the vertical line drawn from g does not cut the line
which lies between the point of contact and the centre
of the cylinder. When the vertical line, let fall from
g, meets the perpendicular line drawn from G to the
plane in the point of contact, the cylinder wTill be in
cquilibrio on the inclined plane.
216. Upon the same principle, a double scalene cone
may be made to ascend an inclined plane without being
loaded with a weight. In fig. 26. let ABC be the
section of a double inclined plane, AB, BC being sec¬
tions of its surfaces perpendicular to the line in which
the double scalene cone ADEFC moves. Then, since
the centre of gravity of a cone is in the line joining the
vertex and the centre of its base, and since the axis of
a scalene cone is not perpendicular to its base, the line
which joins the centres of both the cones, when in the
position represented in the figure, will be above the line
which joins the centres of their bases. If the circle,
therefore, in fig. 27. represents the base of one of the
cones, and C its centix;, the line which joins the cen¬
tres of gravity of the two cones will terminate in some
point G at a distance from the centre, and therefore the
double cone will ascend the plane upon the same prin¬
ciples, and under the same conditions, as those men¬
tioned in the last paragraph.
Chap. V. On the Motion of Bodies along inclined
Blancs and Curves, on the Curve of siviftest descent,
and on the Oscillations of Pendulums.
Prop. I.
217. When a body moves along an inclined plane,
the force which accelerates or retards its motion,
is to the whole force of gravity as the height of
the plane is to its length, or as the sine of its
inclination is to radius.
Let ABC be the inclined plane/, A the place of the
body, and let AB represent the whole force of gravi¬
ty. The force AB is equivalent to the two forces
Ad, DB or AE, AD, of which AD is' the force
that accelerates the motion of the body down the plane,
while AE is destroyed by the resistance or re-action of
the plane. The part of the force of gravity, therefore,
which makes the body arrive' at C is represented by
AD, while the whole force of gravity is represented by
AB ; but the triangle ABD is equiangular to ABC,
and AD : AB~AB : AC, that is, the accelerating
force which makes the body descend the inclined plane,
is to the whole force of gravity as the height of tho
plane is to its length, or as the sine of the plane’s in¬
clination is to radius 5 for when AC is radius, AB be¬
comes the sine of the angle ACB.
218. Cor. 1. Since the force of gravity, which is
uniform, has a given ratio to the accelerating force, the
accelerating force is also uniform 5 consequently the
laws of accelerated and retarded motions, as exhibited
in the article Dynamics, are also true when the bodies
move along inclined planes. If H, therefore, repre¬
sent the height AB of the plane, L its length AC, g
the force ol gravity, and A the accelerating force, w7e
shall have, by the proposition, L : Hzrg : A, hence,
Arrg X—, or, since g : A~radius : sin, ACB, and A
~ g X. sin. ACB. Now, from the principles of
Dynamics, s :
y
i g t*, vz=gt=z V 2 g s, and ^=7-=
2S
——, where s is the space described, g the force of
g
gravity, or 32% feet, v the velocity, and t the time.
Making <p, therefore, equal to ACB, and substituting
the value of A instead of g in the preceding equation^
we shall have ^rrsin.tp X \t'-, v'=.g sin.f t—V2g\?'sin.
and t~-
f
2 s'
g. sin. q> ^ g. sin.
* 219. Cor. 2. If one body begins to descend through
the vertical AB at the same time that another body
descends along the plane AC, when the one is at any
point 771, the position of the other will be 71, which is
determined by drawing m n perpendicular to AC.
The forces by which the two bodies are actuated, are
as AB to Al), that is, as A 771 to A 71; but forces
are measured by the spaces described in the same time y
therefore, the spaces described in the same time, are as
A 77i, A n, that is, as the length of the plane is to its
height 5 for Am : A n=AC : AB; consequently, when
the body that descends along the vertical line AB is at
7)i, the other body wall be at «.—Through the three
points A, 7)i, 71 describe the semicircle A m n; then,
since A n m is a right angle, the centre of the semicircle
will be in the line A 7)1 (Playfair’s Euclid, Book iv.
Prop* 5.) 5 consequently, if two bodies descend f'0771 the
point A at the same lime, the one through the diameter
of a circle A m, and the other through any chord A n,‘
they will arrive at the points m n, the extremities of the
diameter and of the chord at the sa7ne i/istant. It also
follows from this corollary7, that if from the point A
there be drawm any number of lines making different
angles with the diameter A m, and if bodies be let fall
from A, so as to' move along these lines, they will, at
the end of any given time, be found in the circumfe¬
rences of circles which touch one another in the point
A. If the lines are not in the same plane, the bodies
will be in the circumferences of spheres which touch
each other in the point A.
220. Cor. 3. If any number of bodies descend from
the same point A along any number of inclined planes
AC, AF, their velocities at the points C, F will be
equal. By Cor. 1. the -velocity of a body descending
the plane AC, is v/2g-^ sin. <p, and the velocity
of a body falling in the vertical line AB is v'z= v 2 g s'.
But, since v—v', we have vAg'^sin. <p=.v 2g s' or
2 g ^ sin. <p=2g sJ, and dividing by 2g; sMn. <P=o,
consequently s : s'lrrsin. <p : 1, or AB : ACrrsin. DAB 1
radius. Therefore, when v—v', that is, when the veloci¬
ties of the tv/o bodies are equal, the spaces described are
as sin. DAB : radius, which can only happen when BC
is perpendicular to AB. In the same way it may be
shewn that the velocity at F is equal to the velocity at C,
therefore the velocity at C is equal to the velocity at F.
221. Cor. 4. The time of descending along AC is
to
So
MECHANICS.
Theory, to the time of descending along AB, as AC is to AB.
——V'-—J From the values of s, s' in Cor. I. we obtain t% : t z~
S : .s7— : AB. But sin. <p therefore,
sin. <p
sm.ip
AC*
t* : ■ — : AB, and taking equal multiples of these
AB
two last terms, that is, multiplying them by AB, we
have t1 : t2=zAC*: AB% or t : AC : AB. Hence
the times of descending along AF and AC, are as AF
and AC.
222. Cor. 5. The velocities acquired by descending
any planes AC, AF, are as the square roots of their al¬
titudes AB. The velocity acquired by falling through
AB is, by the principles of Dynamics, as the square
toot of AB j and as the velocities at F, C are equal
to that at B, they will also be as the square root of
AB.
Prop. II.
-223. If a body descend from any point along a
number of inclined planes to a horizontal line,
its velocity, when it reaches the horizontal line,
will be equal to that which it would have ac¬
quired by falling in a vertical direction from
the given point to the horizontal line.
Tig 2. Let AB, BC, CD, be a number of planes differently
inclined to a horizontal line DN, and let the body be let
fall from the point A, so as to move along these planes,
■without losing any of its velocity at the angular points j
it will have the same velocity when it reaches the hori¬
zontal plane at D, which it would have acquired by
falling freely from A to F. It is manifest from Art.
220. that the velocity of the body when at B will be
the same as that of another body which had fallen
freely from A to c in a vertical line. The two bodies
set out from B and c with the same velocity, and will
therefore continue to have the same velocity when they
reach the points C, G, because c G=rB d. The two
bodies again set off from the points C, G with the same
celerity, and since GF=C<?, their respective velocities
will be equal when they arrive at the points D, F in
the horizontal plane. The velocity, therefore, acquired
by the body falling along the planes AB, BC, CD is
equal to that which is acquired by the same body fall¬
ing tlirough the vertical line AF.
224. Cor. 1. As the preceding proposition holds
true, whatever be the number of inclined planes which
lie between the point A ami the horizontal line, it will
hold true also of any curve line which may be consider¬
ed as made up of an infinite number of straight lines.
And, since the small planes are diminished without li¬
mit, the radius is diminished without limit, and there¬
fore the versed sine, or the velocity lost in passing from
one plane to another, is diminished without limit (a),
consequently, abstracting from friction, a body will as¬
cend or descend a curve surface without losing any of
its velocity from the curvature of the surface.
225. Cor. 2. If a body be made to ascend a curve
surface, or a system of inclined planes, the vertical
height to which it will rise, is equal to that through
which it must fall in order to acquire the velocity with
which it ascended, abstracting from the effects of fric¬
tion, and the velocity which is lost in passing from one
plane to another. This is obvious, from Dynamics,
§ 26,51.; for the body experiences the same decre¬
ments of velocity in its ascent, as it received increments
in its descent.
226. Cor. 3. The same thing will hold if the body
is kept in the curve by a string perpendicular to the
curve, for the string sustains that part of the weight
which was sustained by the curve, since the reaction of
the curve surface is in a line perpendicular to the curve.
Scholium.
227. It is obvious, that the body which moves along
the system of inclined planes must lose a part of its ve¬
locity in passing from one plane to another. By the re¬
solution of motion it will be found that the velocity ac¬
quired by falling through any of the planes, is to the
velocity lost in passing to the succeeding one, as radius
is to the versed sine of the angle formed by the two
planes. Or the velocity with which the body enters
upon one plane is as the cosine of the angle made by
the contiguous planes, divided by the velocity which
the body had when it left the preceding plane.
Prop. III.
228. The times of descending two systems of in¬
clined planes similar and similarly situated, are
in the subduplicate ratio of their lengths.
Let AB, BC, CD, and a b, be, c d he the similar Fig. a>
systems of inclined planes, and let T be the time of
descending ABCD, and t the time of descending
abed.
By Cor. 4. Prop. 1. we have
Time along AB : Time along A c=AB : Ac,
Time along a b : Time along « /8,=:a b \ tt
But, on account of the similar triangles AB c, ah )3, we have,
AB : A ersa b : x (3.
Hence (Euclid, Book v. Prop. 11. 16.)
Time along AB : Time along a irrTime along A c : Time along x fi.
In
(a) See Wood’s Principles of Mechanics, p. 58. note ; and also Gregory’s Mechanics, vol. i. p. I12. where
this corollary is demonstrated by the method of fluxions.
3
M E C H A N I C S.
Tn the same way it may be shewn, that
Time along BC : Time along Z>c=Time along c G : Time along <3*:,
Time along CD : Time along c</=Time along GF : Time along x. f.
Then, by Geometry, Sect. III. Theorem VUI.
Time along AB-f-BC-j-CD : Time along ab-\-bcd—'Yimc along Ac-J-cG-j-GF : Time along +*/♦
that is,  
Time along AB-f-BG-f-CD : Time along '^^Time along AF : Time along a f.
But by Dynamics § 3.7, 2.
Time along AF : Time along of— AF : f af.
Therefore, Euclid, B. V. Prop. il.
Time along AB-j-BC-f-CD ; Time along ab-^-bc^-cdzz *</AF : af Q. E. D.
But by similar triangles, &c.
VAF : f~af— ^AlEpBC + CD : f a b+bc+cd.
Therefore,
Time along AB + BC-J-CD : Time along a b-\-bc-\-cdz=:V: Vab-\-bc-\-cd. Q* E. D.
1 4-
229. Cor. 1. This proposition holds true of curves*
for the reasons mentioned in Prop. 2i Cor. 1.
230. Cor. 2. The times of descent along similar arcs
of a circle are as their radii $ for by the preceding co¬
rollary the times are as the arcs, and the arcs are as the
radii, therefore the times are as the radii.
Prop. IV.
231. An inverted semicycloid is the curve of quick¬
est descent, or the curve along which a body must
descend in order to move between two points
not in a vertical line, in the least time pos¬
sible.
Let y FZ be a semicycloid, and A'D', C'F' two pa¬
rallel and vertical ordinates at an infinitely small dis¬
tance. Draw the ordinate B'E' an arithmetical mean
between the ordinates A'D' and C'F', and from F', E'
draw F'r, E'« perpendicular to B'F, C'E'. Make
C'F' — a, B'E'r=6, E'urrc, C'B'=m, B'A'=«. Then
since F'E' may he considered as a straight line,
and since B'C'zrF'c, wre have (Euclid, B. I. Prop.
47.)F'E'=r ^?«J+6l,and sinceF'u—E'«,E'D'rr f n1+cl.
Now the velocities at F' and E' vary as f a and b,
and F'E', E'D' are the elementary spaces described
with these velocities 5 hut the times are directly as the
square root of the spaces, and inversely as the velocities,
\/|
therefore the time of describing F'E' is 7-=~> ani^
v a
the time of describing E'D' is
a/ m* -f c*
consequently,
cf b\
But the proposition requires that this time should be the
least possible or a minimum, therefore taking its fluxion
and making it equal to o, we have
the time of describing ED must be
im vi
2 nn
+'
^X^w-f-e2
Voi, XIII. Part I.
■ —o.
b Xn r? Xc*
But since CA is invariable m-\-n is invariable, and
therefore its fluxion m -j- n—Q, or vi——n and n~—77;,
therefore by transposing the second number of the
preceding equation, and substituting these values oi
vi n
in and n. it becomes , . 7 v— n  .
’ vox m% -p c* v 6 x + c
Let us now call the variable absciss q C'zzx, the or¬
dinate C'F'—?/ and the arc q F'=», then in and n
are fluxions of .r, and F'E' is the increment of q F or s,
when y is equal to 0, and E'D' the increment of
q F or 2;, when y is equal to /», therefore by substi¬
tuting these Values in the preceding equation, v'e ob-
^ # # #
tain —  — —-—which shews that this quantity is
constant, and gives us the following analogy, 2;' : V
— 1 : f y. Now in the cycloid \/ y is always
the chord of the generating circle when the dia¬
meter is y (for by Euclid, Book I. Prop. 47, Book 11. jrjg. ^
Prop 8. and Book III. Prop. 35.) AfWADxAO;
and since AO=i and AD=y, sve have AErry^y*
But since the arc of the cycloid at F is perpendicular
to the chord AF, the elementary triangle FEu is simi¬
lar to EDO, (for BE is parallel to AO) and conse-'
quently to AFO (Euclid. B. VI. Prop. 8.), therefore,
vre have FE : E' sx'rrAO : AF; but FErrv', Et’rrr,
AO—1 and AErzy/y, consequently z' : x’—i : f yi
which coincides with the analogy already obtained, and
being the property of the cycloid shews that the curve
of quickest descent is an inverted cycloidal arc.
Properties of the Cycloid.
Definition.—If a circle NOP he so placed as Fig. .3.
to be in contact with the line AD, and be made t°*f,°^;r*®s
roll along that line from D towards A, till the same
point D of the cii’cle touches the other extremity A,,
the point D will describe a curve DBA, called, a
cycloid.
The line AD is called the base of the cycloid; the
line CB, which bisects AD at right angles and meets
the curve in B, is called the axis^ and B the vertex. ,,
The circle NOP is called the generating circle.
L 232* 1 • The
82
M K C H A N I C S.
Theory. 23-• I* Tlie base AD is equal to the circumference
'**—of the generating circle, and AC is equal to half that
circumference.
2. The axis CB is equal to the diameter of the ge¬
nerating circle.
3. It from any point G of the cycloid, there be
drawn a straight line GM parallel to AD, and meet¬
ing the circle BLC in L, the circular arc BL is equal
to the line GIj.
4. If the points L, B be joined, and a tangent drawn
to the cycloid at the point G, the tangent will he pa¬
rallel to the chord TB, and the tangent is found by
joining G, E, for GE is paiv.ilel to LB.
5. The arc BG of the cycloid is double of the chord
BL, and the arc BA or BD is equal to twice the
axis BC.
6. If the two portions AB, DB of the cycloid in
fig. 3. he placed in the inverted position AB, I)B (fig.
•Fig. 4. 4*)» if a string BP equal in length to BA he made
to coincide with BA, and then be evolved from it, its
extremity P will describe a semicycloid AF, similar
and equal to BA. In the same way the semicycloid
DF, produced by the evolution of the string BP from
the semicycloid BD, is equal and similar to BD and to
AF^ Therefore, if BP be a pendulum or weight at¬
tached to the extremity of a flexible line BP, which
vibrates between the cycloidal cheeks BA, BD, its
extremity D will describe a cycloid AFD, equal to
that which is composed of the two halves BA, B D.
7. The chord CN is parallel to MP, and MP is per¬
pendicular to the cycloid AFD, at the point P.
8. If P^j be an infinitely small arc, the perpendicu¬
lar to the curve drawn from the points Pp will meet at
M, and Pj9 may be regarded as a circular arc, whose
radius is MP. An infinitely small cycloidal arc at F
may likewise be considered as a circular arc whose i'a-
dius is BF.
As these properties of the cycloid are demonstrated
in almost every treatise on mechanics, and as their de¬
monstrations more properly belong to geometry than to
mechanics, they are purposely omitted to make room
for more important matter.
233. Definition.—If a body descend from any
point of a curve, and ascend in the same curve till its
velocity is destroyed, the body is said to oscillate in
that curve, and the time in which this descent and as¬
cent are performed is called the time of an oscillation
or vibration.
234. Definition.—A cycloidal pendulum is a pen¬
dulum which oscillates or vibrates in the arch of a cy¬
cloid.
235* Definition.—Oscillations which are perform¬
ed in equal times aye said to he isochronous.
Pitor. V.
Kg. 4. 236. The velocity of a cycloidal pendulum BP at
the point F, varies as the arch which it de¬
scribes.
The velocity of the pendulum at F is that which it
would have acquired by falling through EF (Prop. 2.
and Cor. 3. Prop. 2.), and the velocity of a falling bo-
dy is as the square root of the space which it describes
(Dynamics, § 37.), therefore the velocity of the pen
dulum P, when it reaches F, varies as v/FF. But
Tiiccr.i
(Geometry,Sect. IV. Theor. 23. and 8.) FE varies as
FN*
and since FC is a constant quantity, FF will vary
as FN1 varies, or, to adopt the notation used in the article
Dynamics, FFirl lV, or VTlAFN, but the ve¬
locity acquired by falling through FF varies as VTT,
therefore the velocity of the pendulum at F varies as*
FN, that is, as FP, for (Art. 232. N° 5.) FN is equal
to half FP. Q. E. D.
Prop. VI.
237. If the pendulum begins its oscillation from-
the point P, the velocity of the pendulum at
any point R varies as the sine of a circular
arc whose radius is FP, and whose versed sine
is PR.
Through F draw p F r/ parallel to AD, and with a Fig. 4.
radius equal to the cycloidal arc FP, describe the semi¬
circle p 0 <7. Make p r equal to the arc PR of the cy¬
cloid, and through r draw r m perpendicular to p F.
Through the points P, R draw PF, RT parallel to
AD, and cutting the generating circle CNF in the
points N, S.—By Prop. 4. the velocity at R varies as
aA I, that is, as vT.I —TF, or since CF is constant,
as VCF x EF—CF x TF, that is, as VFN1—F82.
For, (Playfair’s Euclid, Book I. Prop. 47, Book IJ.
Prop. 7. and Book III. Prop. 35.) I N1—Cl x FF,
and FS=CF X TF), that is, as v'4FN*—FS42, that
is (Art. 232. N° 5.) as y/fP2—FRV Rut F p or
1 m was made equal to FP, and, p r being made
equal to PR, the remainder F r must be equal to FR,
therefore the velocity at R varies as \/F m*—Fr2, but
(Euclid, 47. 1.) r m—sjYmx—Fr*, and rm is by con¬
struction equal to the sine of a circular arc, whose ra¬
dius is FP, and versed sine PR, consequently, the velo¬
city at R varies as the sine of that arc. Q. E. D.
238. Corollary. Ihe velocity of the pendulum
at F is to the velocity of the pendulum at R, as F m :
r w, for the versed sine is in this case equal to radius,
and therefore the corresponding arc must be a quadrant
whose sine is also equal to radius or Yni.
Prop. VII.
239. The time in which the pendulum performs rig 4.
one complete oscillation from P to O, is equal '
to the time in which a body would describe the
semicircle p 0 tjy uniformly with the velocity
which the pendulum acquires at the point F.
Take any infinitely small arc RV, and making rv
equal to it, draw v o parallel to r m, and m n to r v.
Now, by the last proposition, and by Dynamics, Art.
28.; the velocity with which RV is described is to the
velocity with which m 0 is described as r 777 is to F 777,
that
I L'heory
that
nv
is as
mo mn
or as —
I m r m
mo
, for m iiTzr t;=HV.
-.mo
rm r m rm F m
But in the similar triangles Fin r, m n o, Fm : rm
mn mo , „ .
\ nnu consequently = theretore the velocity
’ J rm r m J
with which HV is described is equal to the velocity
with which w o is described, and the times in which
these equal spaces are described must likewise be equal.
The same thing may be demonstrated of all the other
corresponding arcs of the cycloid and circle, and there ¬
fore it follows that the time in which the pendulum per¬
forms one complete oscillation is equal to the time in
w;hich the semicircle/; o q is uniformly described with
the velocity acquired at F.
Prop. VIII.
240. The time in which a cycloidal pendulum
performs a complete oscillation is to the time
in which a body would fall freely through the
axis of the cycloid, as the circumference of a
circle is to its diameter.
Since FP=2FN, and since the velocity acquired by
falling down NF is equal to the velocity acquired by
falling down PF, the body, if it continued to move
uniformly with this velocity, would describe a space
equal to 2PF (Dynamics, § 37. N° 6.) in the same
time that it would descend NF or CF (Art. 219.).
Calling T therefore the time of an oscillation, and t the
time of descent along the axis, we have, by the preced¬
ing proposition,
Trztime along/; 0 q, with the velocity at F,
and by the preceding paragraph,
fmtime along F p, with the same velocity j therefore
T:: tertime along/; 0 q with velocity at V : time along
F p with the same velocity j that is, T : tzzp 0 q : ¥ p
p 0 q : 2F/;=:the circumference of a circle : its di¬
ameter.
241. Cor. 1. The oscillations in a cycloid are
isochronous, that is, they are performed in equal times
whatever be the size of the arc which the pendulum
describes. For the time of an oscillation has a con¬
stant ratio to the time of descent along the axis, and is
therefore an invariable quantity.
242. Cor. 2. The oscillations in a small circular arc
whose radius is BF, and in an equal arc of the cycloid,
being isochronous (Art. 232. N°8.), the time of an oscil¬
lation in a small circular arc will also be to the time of
descent along the axis, as the circumference of a cir¬
cle is to its diameter.
243. Cor. 3. Since the length BF of the pendulum
is double of the axis CF, the time of an oscillation in a
cycloid or small circular arc varies as the time of de-
icending along CF, half the length of the pendulum,
the force of gravity being constant. But the time of
descent along CF varies as \/CF, therefore the time
of an oscillation in a small circular or cycloidal arc
varies as the square root of half the length of the pen¬
dulum, or as the square root of its whole length. I f I , t
therefore be the times of oscillations of two pendulums.
M E C H A N I C S.
and L, / their respective lengths, we have by this co¬
rollary T : t—jJL : ^/^andTx v^—CX -v/T; hence
rp . ^ ^ V'L . I X s/l , / ^ X \/IJ . T
'=~7l7 > /= V—T- ’ and L =
^ -, from which we may find the time in which
a//, therefore 77, and —,
' \ i ’ 11
from which it is
easy to find the length of a pendulum which will vibrate
any number of times in a given time, or the number of
vibrations which a pendulum of a given length will per¬
form in a given time.
Prop. IX.
247. To find the space through which a heavy-
body will fall in one second by the force of gra¬
vity.
Since by Proposition 8. the time of an oscillation is
to the time along half the length of the pendulum as
3.14159 is to 1, and since the spaces are as the squares
of the times, the spaces described by a heavy body m
the time of an oscillation will he to halt the length of
the pendulum as 3.141591 is t° I> Now it appears
from the experiments of Mr Whitehurst, that the length
of a pendulum which vibrates seconds at London at
112 feet above the level of the sea, in a temperature of
5 L 2 6o°
a pendulum of any length will vibrate j a pendulum of
39.2 inches vibrating in one second.
244. Cor. 4. When the force of gravity varies,
which it does in going from the poles to the equator,
the time of an oscillation is directly as the square root
of the length of the pendulum, and inversely as the
square root of the force of gravity. The time of au
oscillation varies as the time of descent along half the
length of the pendulum, and the time of descent
\f s
through any space varies as —7—, where 5 is the space de-
v ,§
scribed and g the force of gravity 3 but in the present
case s — — j therefore by substitution, the time of
descent along half the length of the pendulum, or the
time of an oscillation, varies as - ■-A. 0r as —•
Hence T : from which it is easy to de-
V7# \/g
duce equations similar to those given in the preceding
corollary.
245. Cor. 5. Since T=:^^, V^xTii:-y/T J and if
V Q
the time of oscillation is 1 second, we have VT,
or g=:L, that is, the force of gravity in different lati¬
tudes varies as the length of a pendulum that vibrates
seconds.
246. Cor. 6. The number of oscillations which a
pendulum makes in a given time, and in a given la¬
titude, are in the inverse subduplicate ratio of its length.
The number of oscillations n made in a given time
are evidently in the inverse ratio of /, the time of each
oscillation j that is «==-y j but by Corollary 3. t-=z
84 M E C H
Theory. 6o° of Fahrenheit, and when the baronjeter is 30 inches,
is 39.1196 inches 5 hence 1* : 3.14159I* :
J9.5598 X 3.I4I59|1 2=.i6.o87 feet the space required.
The methods of determining the centre of oscillation,
gyration, and percussion, properly belong to this chap¬
ter, but they have been already given in the article
Rotation, to which we must refer the reader who
wishes to prosecute the subject.
A N I C S.
have 2 B' X = B' X 2 V, or B': 2 B' := V: 2V; hut 2V
is the velocity of B', and V is the velocity of 2 B',
therefore when one body is double of the other, they
will remain at rest when the masses of the bodies are in¬
versely as their velocities.
In the same way the proposition may be demonstrated
when the bodies are to one another in any commen¬
surable proportion.
Prop. II.
ClIAP. VI. On the Collision or Impulsion of Bodies.
248. Def. i. When a body moving with a cer¬
tain velocity strikes another body, either at rest or
in motion, the one is said to impinge against, or to im-
pell the other. This effect has been distinguished by
the names collision, impulsion or impulse, percussion,
and impact.
249. Def. 2. The collision or impulsion of two
bodies is said to be direct when the bodies move in the
same straight line, or when the point in which they
strike each other is in the straight line which joins their
centres of gravity. When this is not the case, the im¬
pulse is said to be oblique.
250. Def. 3. A hard body is one -which is not sus¬
ceptible of compression by any finite force. An elastic
body is one susceptible of compression, which recovers
its figure with a force equal to that which compresses it.
A stft body is one which does not recover its form
after compression. There does not exist in nature any
body which is either perfectly hard, perfectly elastic or
perfectly soft. Every body with which we are ac¬
quainted possesses elasticity in some degx-ee or other.
Diamond, crystal, agate, &c. though among the hard¬
est bodies, are highly elastic 5 and even clay itself will
in some degree recover its figure after compression. It
is necessary, however, to consider bodies as hard, soft
or elastic, in order to obtain the limits between which
the required results must be contained.
251. Def. 4. The mass of a body is the sum of the
material particles of which it is composed 5 and the
momentum, or moving force, or quantity of motion of any
body, is the product arising from multiplying its mass
by its velocity.
Prop. I.
252. Two hard bodies B, B'with velocities V, V'
striking each other perpendicularly, will be at
rest after impulse, if their velocities are inverse¬
ly as their masses.
1. When the two bodies are equal, their velocities
must be equal in the case of an equilibrium after im¬
pulse, and therefore B : B'—V' : V, or BVrrB'V' j
for if they are not at rest after impulse, the one must
carry the other along with it: But as their masses and
velocities are equal, there can be no reason why the one
should carry the other along with it.
2. If the one body is double of the other, or Brr2B',
we should have \ '—tN'. Now instead of B we may sub¬
stitute two bodies equal to B', and instead of V' we may
substitute two velocities equal to V, with which the
bodies B' may be conceived to move j consequently we
253. To find the common velocity v of two hard
bodies B, B' whose velocities are V, V', after
striking each other perpendicularly.
If the bodies have not equal quantities of motion they
cannot be in equilibrio after impulse. The one will
carry the other along with it, and in consequence of
their hardness, they will remain in contact, and move
with a common velocity v.
1. In order to find this, let us first suppose B' to be at
rest and to be struck by B in motion. The quantity of
motion which exists in B before impulse is BV, and as
this is divided between the two bodies after impulse, it
must be equal to the quantity of motion after impulset
But u X B -f- B' is the quantity of motion after impulse,
BV
therefore u X B -f- B ^rBV, and t—^
2. Let us now suppose that both the bodies are
in motion in the same direction that B follows B'.
In order that B may impel B', rve must have V greater
than V'. Now we may conceive both the bodies pla¬
ced upon a plane moving with the velocity V\ The
body B', therefore, whose velocity is V' equal to that
of the plane, will be at rest upon the plane, while the
velocity of B with regard to B' or the plane, will be
V—V'j consequently, the bodies are in the same cir¬
cumstances as if B' were at rest, and B moving with
the velocity V—V'. Therefore, by the last case, we
have the common velocity of the bodies in the move-
pj-y j)y /
able plane —’ and by adding to this V', the
velocity of the plane, we shall have v, or the absolute
BV+B'V'
velocity of the bodies after impulse, v z= ——T 
J 1 ’ B-f-B'
Hence the quantity of motion, after impact, is equal to
the sum of the quantities of motion before impact.
3. If the impinging bodies mutually approach
each other, we may conceive, as before, that the body
B' is at rest upon a plane which moves with- a velocity
V' in an opposite direction to V', and that B moves on
this plane with the velocity V + V'. Then, by Case 1.
BV -f BV' ,
BTj- B' 'V1 ^ie common velocity upon the plane
after impulse 5 and adding to this V', or the velocity
ol the plane, we shall have v, or the absolute velocity
of the bodies after impact, ^ . Hence the
B -j-
quantity of motion after impact is equal to the differ¬
ence of the quantities ot motion before impact. It is
obvious that v is positive or negative, according as BV
is greater or less than B'V', so that when BV is great¬
er than B'\the bodies will move in the direction of
B’s
MECHANICS.
B’s motion •, and when BY is less than B'Y', the bo-
J dies will move in the direction of A’s motion.
254. All the three formulae which we have given,
may be comprehended in the following general formu-
BVrtiB'V'
la, v=z —g—g-—; for when B' is at rest, V'zro, and
the formula assumes the form which it has in Case 1.
255. Cor. I. If B=B', and the bodies mutually
approach each other, the equation in Case 3. becomes
V—V' . .
rzz or the bodies will move in the direction
2
of the quickest body, with a velocity equal to one half
of the difference of their velocities.
256. Cor. 2. If VzrV', and the bodies move in the
same direction, the last formula will become
V X or v=^1 5 for in this case there can be no
IS-j-Ii
impulsion, the one body merely following the other
in contact with it. When the bodies mutually ap¬
proach each other, and when Y“\', we have v~V
B—B'
^B+B'
257. Cor. 3. When the bodies move in the same di-
, r. BV+BW ,
rcction, we have, by Case 2. v=z—r-———. JNow the
X) -j-Jj
BV+BY' xr
rV
Bf B'
BY—
•BY-
velocity gained by B7 is evidently v—V', or
BY BY'
=-B+iF-’ hcnce B+B': B=v-v': -S+W-’
but this last term is the velocity gained by B, and
V—\' is the relative velocity of the tivo bodies.
Therefore, in the impact of t wo hard bodies moving in
the same direction, B-f-B' : B as the relative velocity
of the two bodies is to the velocity gained by B'. It is
obvious also that the velocity lost by B is V—v~
■xt BV+B'V' B'V—B'V' ,
% B+g~°r' li-i-ff' ; hcnce B+B •B =
B'V B'V'
V—V': ———  ; but this last term is the velocity
B -}- B
lost by B, and V—V' is the relative velocity of the bo*-
dies, therefore in the impact of two hard bodies
B -j- B': B' as their relative velocity is to the velocity
lost by B. The same thing may be shewn when the
bodies move in opposite directions, in ■which case their
relative velocity is V-j-V'.
Prop. III.
hard bodies. But by the force of restitution, equal
to that of compression, the bodies begin to recover
their figure,—the parts in contact serve mutually as
points of support, and the bodies recede from each
other. Now, before the force of restitution began to
exert itself, the bodies had a tendency to move in one
direction wdth a common momentum 5 therefore, the
body whose effort to recover its figure was in the same
direction with that of the common momentum, will
move on in that direction, with a momentum or moving
force equal to the sum of the force of restitution and
the common momentum 5 while the other body, w hose
effort to recover from compression is in a direction op¬
posite to that of the common momentum, will move
with a momentum equal to the difference between its
force of restitution and the common momentum, and
in the direction of the greatest of these momenta : Af¬
ter impulse, therefore, it either moves in the direction
opposite to that of the common momentum, or its mo¬
tion in the same direction as that of the common mo¬
mentum is diminished, or it is stopped altogether, ac¬
cording as the force of restitution is greater, less, or
equal to the common momentum.
259. In order to apply these preliminary observa¬
tions, let us adopt the notation in the twfo preceding
propositions, and let v be the common velocity which
the bodies would have received after impulse, if they
had been hard, and v', v" the velocities which the elas¬
tic bodies B, B' receive after impact.
260. 1. If B follows B', then V is greater than V',
and when B has reached B', they are both compressed
at the point of impact. Hence, since v is the common
velocity with which they would advance if the force of
restitution were not exerted, wehaveV—the velocity
lost by B, and v—V'— the velocity gained by B' in conse¬
quence of compression.—But, when the bodies strive to
recover their form by the force of restitution, the body B
will move backwards in consequence of this force, while
B'will move onward in its former direction with an acce¬
lerated velocity. Hence, from the force of restitution, B
will again lose the velocity V—r, and B' wull, a second
time, gain the velocity v—V' j consequently, the whole
velocity lost by B is 2V—2v, and the whole velocity
gained by B' is 2v—2V'. Now, subtracting this loss
from the original velocity of B, we have Y—2V—2v,
for the velocity of B after impact, and adding the ve¬
locity gained by B to its original velocity, wre have
V'+2i>—2V' for the velocity of B' after impact 5
hence we have
258. To determine the velocities of two elastic
bodies after impulse.
If an elastic body strikes a hard and immoveable
plane, it will, at the instant of collision, be compressed
at the place of contact. But as the elastic body in¬
stantaneously endeavours to recover its figure, and as
this force of restitution is equal and opposite to the
lorce of compression, it will move backwards from the
plane in the same direction in which it advanced.—If
two elastic bodies, writh equal momenta, impinge a-
gainst each other, the effect of their mutual compres¬
sion is to destroy their relative velocity, and make
them move with a common velocity, as in the case of
u'rrV'—2Y—2v~ 2v—V
u"—V'-j- 2r—2 V'—t;—V.
Now, substituting in these equations, the value of v as
found in Case 2. Prop. 2. we obtain
BV—B'V-l-2B'Y'
V'- B+B'
BY'—B'V' + 2BV
u"_ B-B/
261. 2. When the bodies move in opposite directions
or mutually approach each other, the body A is in pre-
ciselv the same circumstances as in the preceding case; -
¥' but
86 M E C H
Theory, but the body B' loses a part of its velocity equal to
2^’-|-2V,—V'. Hence we have, by the same reasoning
that was employed in the preceding case,
v' — 2 v—V'
v"— 2v-{- V',
and by substituting instead of v its value, as determined
in Case 3. Prop. 2. or by merely changing the sign of
V' in the two last equations in the preceding corollary,
we obtain the two following equations, which will an¬
swer for both cases, by using the upper sign when the
bodies move in the same direction, and the under sign
when they move in opposite directions.
, BV—B'Vztna B'V'
B'+B'
„ =t=BV'=±:B'V/4-2BV
n"—    ,
- B+B'
From the preceding equation the following corol¬
laries may be deduced.
262. CoR. I. The velocity gained by the body that
is struck, and the velocity lost by the impinging body,
are twice as great in elastic as they are in hard bodies j
for in hard bodies the velocities gained and lost \Vere
v—V', and V—v ; whereas in elastic bodies the velo¬
cities gained and lost were 21’—-2V', and 2V—2
263. Cor. 2. If one of the bodies, suppose B', is at
rest, its velocity V'—o, and the preceding equation
becomes
, VB—VB' „ 2VB
*/=—v"=z-
B-f-B'
B-f-B'*
264. CoR. 3. If one of the bodies B' is at rest, and
their masses equal, we have B^iB' and V'rro, by sub¬
stituting which in the preceding formulse, we obtain
v'=o, and v"=z\ j that is, the impinging body B re¬
mains at rest after impact, and the body B' that is
struck when at rest moves on with the velocity of the
body B that struck it, so that there is a complete trans¬
fer of B’s velocity to B'.
265. Cor. 4. If B' is at rest and B greater than B',
both the bodies will move forward in the direction of
B’s motion; for it is obvious from the equations in
Cor. 2. that when B is greater than B', v', and v" are
both positive.
266. CoR. 5. If B' is at rest, and B less than B',
the impinging body B will return backwards, and the
body B' which is struck will move forward in the direc¬
tion in which B moved before the stroke. For it is
evident that when B is less than B', v' is negative, and
v" positive.
267. Cor. 6. If both the bodies move in the same di-
rection, the body B' that is struck will after impact
move with greater velocity than it had before it. This
is obvious from the formula in Case 1. of this proposi¬
tion.
268. Cor. 7. If the bodies move in the sa?7ic direc¬
tion, and if B=B', there will at the moment of impact
be a mutual transfer of velocities, that is, B will move
on with B^s velocity, and B' will move on with B’s
velocity. For in the formulae in Case 1. when B—B,
We have v'—\' and t/'zrV.
269. Cor. 8. When the bodies move in opposite di-
irections, or mutually approach other, and when B^rB'
A N I C S.
and V—V', both the bodies will recoil or move back¬
wards after impact with the same velocities which they '
had before impact. For in the formulae in Case 2. with
the inferior signs, when BzzB' and V=V', wre have
v’——V and vf,~W
270. CoR. 9. If the bodies move in opposite direc-
B—3 B'
tions, and Vr=V, we have t/2=Vx an<^ l"
==^'T X Hence it is obvious, that if B=r3 B;,
B-j-B'
or if one of the impinging bodies is thrice as great as
the other, the greatest will be stopped, and the smallest
will recoil with a velocity double of that which it had
before impact. For since B:=3 B', by substituting this
value of B in the preceding equations, we obtain
and v"~ 2 V.
271. CoR. 10. If the impinging bodies move in op¬
posite directions, and if B=B', they will both recoil
after a mutual exchange of velocities. For when
B=B', we have v'~—V', and r/'rrV.
272. CoR. 11. When the bodies move in opposite
directions, the body which is struck, and the body
which strikes it, will stop, continue their motion, or
return backwards, according as BV—B'V is equal to,
or greater or less than 2 B'V',
273. Cor. 12. The relative velocity of the bodies
after impact, is equal to their relative velocity before
impact, or, which is the same thing, at equal instants be¬
fore and after impact, the distance of the bodies from
each other is the same. For in the different cases we
have v'— 21;—V; v"—2v=^=\'. But the relative ve¬
locity before impact is in the different cases \ ', and
the relative velocity after impact is vf—v'=z^> 2+rV'.
274. Cor. 13. By reasoning similar to that which
was employed in Prop. 2. Cor. 3. it may be shewn that
B+B' : 2 B as their relative velocity before impact is
to the velocity gained by B' in the direction of B’s mo¬
tion ; and B-j-B' : 2 B' as their relative velocity before
impact is to the velocity lost by B in the direction of
A’s motion.
275. Cor. 14. This vis viva, or the sum of the pro¬
ducts of each body multiplied by the square of its ve¬
locity, is the same before and after impact, that is,
B r'14-BV'2= BV* 4. B'V'2. From the formulae at the
end of Case 2. we obtain
Tiieorv.
B-BTXBV+B.V^,,,
B + B'|2
hencetheirsumBu'2 X BV'
B + B'|*
_B—B'l’xBV’-t-iFv^-P 4BB' X BV2-j-B'V'* 
B+B',1
BV>+B'V'»xB~-B'1-f4 BB'
Ti+B'1
rBV’+B'V'1.
276. Cor. ly. If several equal elastic bodies B, B".
B"', B"", &c. are in contact, and placed in tbe same
straight line, and if another elastic body /3 of the same
magnitude impinges against B, they -will remain at
rest, except the last body B"", which will move on
with the velocity of /3. By Art. 264. B will transfer
to
MEG H A N I C Si
8'
'■liCorf.
to B" all its velocity, aiul therefore B will be at rest,
in the same way B" will transfer to B"' all its velocity,
and B" will remain at rest, and so on with the rest ;
but when the last body B"w is set in motion, there is
no other body to which its velocity can be transferred,
and therefore it will move on with the velocity which
it received from B'", that is, with live velocity of /3.
277. Cor. 16. If the bodies- decrease in size from
B to B"'7, they will all move in the direction of the
impinging body /3, and the velocity communicated to
each body will be greater than that which is communi¬
cated to the preceding body.
278. Cor. 17. If the bodies increase in magnitude,
they will all recoil, or move in a direction opposite to
that of ,3, excepting the last, and the velocity commu¬
nicated to each body will be less than that which is
communicated to the preceding body.
equation into anal -gies, B -f-B: 1+ X B as the relative Theory,
velocity of the bodies before impact is to the velocity
gained by B' in the direction of B’s motion ; and
B-f-B': i-f/zxB' as the relative velocity of the bodies,
before impact is to the velocity lost by B.
281. Cor. 2. The relative velocity before impact is
to the relative velocity after impact as the force of com¬
pression is to the force of restitution, or as I : ?i.
The relative velocity after impact is v"—v\ or tak¬
ing the preceding values of these quantities t?'—v'~\'
i«4-«XBV—BY'I 1 —B'Y' _t/
+ B+B' V B+B' ~~
v , 1 -\~n X B -f-B' x V—Y' , T„
v 4 ITpr ’ t lVK inS
have i’"—r'—V'—Y+V—Y '-j-a x V—Y'—?z X ^—Y '
Prop. IYr.
2791 To determine the velocities of two imperfect¬
ly elastic bodies after impulse, the force of com¬
pression being in a given ratio to the force of
restitution or elasticity.
Let B, B' he the two bodies, Y , Y ' their velocities
before impact, t/, t77 their velocities after impact, and
I : was the force of compression is to that of restitu¬
tion. It is evident from Case 1. Prop. 8. that in con¬
sequence of the fox-ce of compression alone we have,
Y—velocity lost by B 7 r
,7, . ./ • •Y , r>/ r from compi’essxon* -
v—V'—velocity gamed by ±v j 1
But the velocity which B loses and B' gains by the
force of compression will he to the velocity which B
loses and B' gains by the force of restitution or elasti¬
city as 1 : w j hence
I: «—:Y —v : nY—the velocity lost by B 7 ftomela-
I “. : n v—n Y 'the velocity gained by B J sticity.
therefox-e by adding together the two portions of ve¬
locity lost by B, and also those gained by B', avc ob¬
tain
j + n V—1 -\-n v, the whole velocity lost by B,
1 -f*w v—1 +wYr/, the whole velocity gained by B.
Hence by subtracting the velocity lost by B in conse¬
quence of collision from its velocity before impact, we
shall have v' or the velocity of B after impact, and by
adding the velocity gained by B' after collision to its
velocity before impact, we shall find v" or the velocity
of B' after impact, thus
t’'=:Yr—1 -J-tzV—1 -J-«u the velocity of B after impact.
/tv — i —wV'the velocity of B after impactr
Now by substituting in the place of v its value as de¬
termined in Case 2. Prop. 2. we obtain
, 1 -f-72 x B'Y'—B'Y7'
‘-'-“B+B' •
V4. I+" X by—BY '
+ B4-B
280. Cor. 1. Hence by converting the preceding
rr the relative velocity after impact. But the relative
velocity hefoi-e impact is V—Y', and V—V' : 72 X
Y —Y '—I : 72. Q, E. D. The quantity Y ' has evident"
ly the negative sign when the bodies move in opposite
directions.
282. Cor. 3. Hence from the velocities before and
after impact we may determine the force of restitution
or-elasticity.
Prop. V..
283. To find the velocity of a body, and the di*
rection in which it moves after impinging upon
a hard and immoveable plane.
283. Case. i. When the impinging body is perfectly when the ■
hard. Let AB be the hard and immoveable plane-, body is ptr¬
ail d let the impinging body move towards AB in the hard.-
direction CD,- and with a velocity represented by CD.
Then the velocity CD may be resolved into the two
velocities,LM, MD, or MD, FD; CM DF being a
parallelogram. But the part of the velocity FD,
which carries the body in a line perpendicular to the
plane, is completely destroyed by impact, while the
other part of the velocity MD, which carries the body
in a line parallel to the plane, will not be affected by
the collision, therefore the body will, after impact,
move along the plane with the velocity MD. Now,
CD : MD=radius : cos.^lCDM, therefore since MD
=rCF the sine of the angle of incidence CDF, the ve--
locity before impact is to the velocity after impact, as
radius is to the sine of the angle of i/icidejice ; and since
AM=CD—YID, the velocity before impact is to the
velocity lost by impact, as radius is to the versed sine
of the complement of the angle of incidence.
283. Case 2. When the impinging body is perfectly When the
clastic. Let the body move in the direction CD with body is per--’
a velocity represented by CD, which, as formerly, may fectly elas-
be resolved to MD, FD. The part of the velocity
MD remains-after impact, and tends to carry the body
parallel to the plane. Die other part of the velocity
FD is destroyed by compression j but the force of resti¬
tution or elasticity will generate a velocity equal to
FD, but in the opposite direction DI. Consequently
the impinging body after impact is solicited by two ve¬
locities, one of which would carry it uniformly from D
to F in the same time that the other would carry it uni¬
formly from M to D, or from D to N 3 the body will,
therefore -•
88 MECHANICS.
Theory, therefore, move along DE, the diagonal of the paral-
' "v lelogram DFEN, which is equal to the parallelogram
BFCM. Hence the angle CDF is equal to the angle
EDF, therefore, when an elastic body impinges oblique¬
ly against an immoveable plane, it will be reflected jrom
the plane, so that the angle of reflexion is equal to the
angle oj incidence. Since CD, DE are equal spaces
described in equal times, the velocity of the body after
impact will be equal to its velocity before impact.
When the 286. Case 3. When the impinging body is imperfectly
body is im- clastic. In DF take a point w, so that DF is to D m
dastic^ as ^ie ^orce compression is to the force of restitution
or elasticity, and having drawn me parallel to DB, and
meeting NE in e, join I) e ; then, if the impinging bo¬
dy approach the plane in the direction CD, with a ve¬
locity represented by CD, D e will be the direction in
which it will move after impact. Immediately after
compression, the velocity DF is destroyed as in the last
case, while the velocity MD tends to carry the body
parallel to the plane. But, by the force of restitution,
the body would be carried uniformly along D m, per¬
pendicular to the plane, while, by the velocity MD=s
DN—m c, it would be carried in the same time along
m e, consequently, by means of these two velocities, the
body will describe D c, the -diagonal of the parallelo¬
gram D tn e N. The velocity, therefore, before impact
is to the velocity after impact as DC : D c, or as
DE: D e, or as sin. D e E, sin. DE c, or as sin. D e m:
sin. DE e, or as sin. FD c : sin. FDE. Now, by pro¬
ducing D e so as to meet the line CE produced in G,
we have, on account of the parallels FE, m e, D m : DF
—m c : FG j but, FD being x-adius, FE is the tangent
of FDE, or FDG the angle of incidence, and FDG is
the tangent of the angle of reflexion FDG : Therefore
Dm : DF=tang. ^iCDF : tang..^2.FDG. Conse-
. quently, when an imperfectly elastic body impinges a-
gdinst a plane, it will be reflected in such a manner that
the tangent of the angle of reflexion is to the tangent of
the angle qj incidence, as the force of compression is to
the force of restitution or elasticity ; and the velocity be¬
fore incidence will be to the velocity after reflexion, as
the sine of the angle of reflexion is to the sine of ike
...angle of incidence.
Scholium.
287. When the surface against which the body im¬
pinges is curved, we must conceive a plane touching the
surface at the place of incidence, and then apply the
rules in the preceding proposition. The doctrine of
the oolique collision of bodies is of great use both in
acoustics and optics, where the material particles
which suffer reflexion are regarded as perfectly elas¬
tic bodies.
Prop. VI.
288. To find the point of an immoveable plane
which an elastic body moving from a given
place must strike, in order that it may, after re¬
flexion, either from one or two planes, im¬
pinge against another body whose position is
given.
289. Case i. liken there is only one reflexion. Let
C l;e the place from which the impinging body is to
2
move, and let E he the body which is to be struck af- Theory
ter reflexion from the plane AB. From C let fall 1 
CH perpendicular to AB, continue it towards C till
HG = CH, and join G, E by the line GDE 5 the point
D where this line cuts the plane, is the place against
which the body at C must impinge in order that, after
reflexion, it may strike the body at E. The triangles
CDH, HD G are equiangular, because two sides and one
angle of each are respectively equal, therefore the angles
DCH, DGII are equal. But on account of the parallels
FD, CG the angle EDFrzDGC—DCH, and DCH=
FDC, therefore the angle of incidence FDC=FDE
the angle of reflexion •, consequently by Prop. 4. a
body moving from C and impinging on the plane at 1)
will, after reflexion, move in the line DE, and strike
the body at E.
290. Case 2. When there are two reflexions. Let fig. 8.
AB, BL, be the two immoveable planes, C the place
from which the impinging body is to move, and F the
body which it is to sti'ike after reflexion from the two
planes, it is required to find the point of impact D.
Draw CHG perpendicular to AB, so that HGrrCH.
Through G draw GMN parallel to AB, cutting LB
produced in M, and make GM—MN. Join N, F,
and from the point E, where NF cuts the plane BL,
draw EG, joining the points EG : the point D will be
the point of the plane, against which the body at C
must impinge, in order to strike the body at F. By
reasoning as in the preceding case, it may be shewn
that the angle CDH—EDB, therefore DE will be the
path of the body after the first reflexion. Now, the
triangles .GEM, EMN are equiangular, because GM
=MN, and the angles at M right, therefore DEBzr
FEL, that is, the body after reflexion at E will strike
the body placed at F.
Prop. VII.
291. To determine the motions of two spherical
bodies which impinge obliquely upon each other*
when their motion, quantities of matter, and
radii, are given.
Let A, B he the two bodies, and let CA, DB be Fig. 9.
the directions in which they move before impact, and
let these lines represent their respective velocities. Join
A, B the centres of the bodies, and produce it both
ways to K and I. Draw LM perpendicular to IK,
and it will touch the bodies at the point of impact.
Now, the velocity CA may he resolved into the two
velocities Cl, IA, and the velocity DB into the velo¬
cities DK, KB, but CA and DB are given, and also
the angles CAI, DBK, consequently Cl and IA, and
DK and KB may be found. The velocities Cl, DK,
which are parallel to the plane, Avill not be altered by
collision, therefore IA, KB are the velocities with
which the bodies directly impinge upon each other,
consequently their effects or the velocities after impact
may be found from Prop. 3. j let these velocities he re¬
presented by AN, BP. Take AFrrCI and BH=DM,
and having completed the parallelograms AFON,
BPQH, draw the diagonals AO, QB. Then, since
the body A is carried parallel to the line LM with a
velocity Cl—AF, and from the hue LM by the velo¬
city AN, it will describe AO, the diagonal of the pa¬
rallelogram
Fig. 7.
M E C H A N 1 C S,
i>cory, raUelogram NF j and for the same reason the body
i -y——i B will describe the diagonal BQ of the parailelogiam
PH.
292. Corollatiy. If AzzB, and if the body which
is struck moves in a given direction and with a given
velocity after impact, the direction of the impinging
body, and the velocity of its motion, may be easily
I I0. found. Let the body I) impinge against the equal
body C, and let CB be the direction in which C moves
after impact, it is required to find the direction in
which D will move. Draw .D c, pouching the ball C
at c, the place where the ball D impinges ; produce
BC to E, and through c draw AcF perpendicular to
EB, and complete the rectangle FE. .The force L) c
may be resolved into the forces E c, c F, of which E c
is employed to move the ball C in the direction CB
and with the velocity E c; but the force c F has no
share in the impulse, and is wholly employed in making
the body .D move, in the direction CA, and with the
velocity CF.
Scholium.
<j piieno- 293. In the preceding proposition, we have endea-
n a of voured to give a short and perspicuous view of the com¬
il alsion mon theory of impulsion. The limits of this article
■ rA 0 will not permit ns to enter upon those interesting specu-
L L>s lations to which this subject has given rise ; but those
v :h pre- ivho are anxious to pursue them will find ample assist-
\ bodies ance in the article Impulsion, in the Supplement to
ft 1 com- the last edition of this work, where Dr Robison has
t hemad treated the subject with his usual ability. It may be
it intact, proper however to remark, that all the phenomena of
impulse as well as pressure, are owing to the existence of
forces which prevent the particles of matter from coining
into mathematical contact. The body which is struck,
in the case of collision, is put in motion by the mutual
repulsion of the material particles at the point of impact,
while the velocity of the impinging body is diminished
by the same cause. Hence we see the absurdity of re¬
ferring all motion to impulse, or of attempting to ac¬
count for the phenomena of gravitation, electricity, and
magnetism by the intervention of any visible fluid.
Even if the supposition that such a medium exists were
not gratuitous, it would be impossible to shew that its
particles, by means of which the impulse is conveyed,
are in contact with the particles of the body to which
that impulse is communicated.
iGeor- 294. Aphysico-mathematical theory of percussion, in
^ •Juan’s which the impinging bodies are considered as imper-
t i'atica^'fcctly e^astic? has been lately given by Don Georges
tbryof *R’an> in his Ex amen Maritimo, a Spanish work which
G'ussion. has been translated with additions by M. L’Eveque, un¬
der the title of Kxamcn maritime, tktoriqne et pratique,
on Traite de mecanique, applique a la construction, et a
la manoeuvre des vaisseaux et autres batimens. This
theory has been embraced by many eminent French
philosophers, and may be seen in Prony’s Architecture
Hydraulique, vol. i. p. 208, and in Gregory’s Mechanics,
vol. i. p. 291. We shall endeavour, under the article
Percussion, to give a short account of this interest¬
ing theory, which has been found to accord with the
most accurate experiments.
295. In some cases of collision the results of experi¬
ments are rather at variance with those of theory, in
consequence of the communication of motion not being
Vol. XIII. Part I. i
89
exactly instantaneous. “ If an ivory hall (says Mr Theory.
Leslie) strikes against another of equal weight, there y—-i
should, according to the common theory, he an exact
transfer ot motion. But if the velocity of the impin¬
ging hall be very considerable, so far from stopping sud¬
denly, it will recoil hack again with the same force,
while the hall which is struck will remain at rest ; the
reason is, that the shock is so momentary, as not to per¬
mit the communication of impulse to the whole mass
ot the second hall, a small spot only is affected, and
the consequence is therefore the same as if the ball had
impinged against an immoveable wall. On a perfect
acquaintance with such facts depends, in a great mea¬
sure, the skill of the billiard player. It is on a similar
principle that a bullet fired against a door which hangs
freely on its hinges will perforate without agitating it
in the least. Nay, a pellet of clay, a bit of tallow, or
even a small bag of water, discharged from a pistol
will produce the same effect. In all these instances the
impression of the stroke is confined to a single spot, and
no sufficient time is allowed for diffusing its action over
the extent of the door. If a large stone he thrown
with equal momentum, and consequently with smaller
velocity, the effect will he totally reversed, the door
will turn on its hinges, and yet scarcely a dent will
be made on its surface. Hence likewise the theory of
most of the tools, and their mode cf application in
the mechanical arts: the chisel, the saw, the file, the
scythe, the hedge bill, &c.—In the process of cutting,
the object is to concentrate the force in a very narrow
space, and this is effected by giving the instrument a
rapid motion. Hence, too, the reason why only a small
hammer is used in rivetting, and why a mallet is pre¬
ferred for driving wedges.” Enquiry into the Nature
of Heat, p. 127,8.
. 296. The successive propagation of motion maybe il- Successive
lustrated by a very simple experiment. Take two balls ProPa£at*on
A, B, of which B is very large when compared with A,
and connect them by a string S passing over the pulley X r ^
P. If the hall B is lifted up towards S and allowed to ~ n'
fall by its own weight, instead of bringing the little hall
A along with it, as might have been expected, the
string will break at P. Here it is evident that the mo¬
tion is not propagated instantaneously, for the string is
broken before the motion is communicated to the por¬
tion of the string between P and A.
297. An apparatus for making experiments on the Apparatus
collision of bodies is represented in fig. 12. The im-lor exPen'
pinging bodies are suspended by threads like pendu- cojjisiofl_
lums, and as the velocities acquired by descending
through the arches of circles are in the ratio of their Fig. 12.
chords, the velocities of the impinging bodies may he
easily ascertained. The apparatus is therefore furnished
with a graduated arch MN which is generally divided
into equal parts, though it would be more convenient to
place the divisions at the extremities of arcs whose
chords are expressed by the corresponding numbers.
The balls that are not used may he placed behind the
arc as at m and n; and in order to give variety to the
experiments, the balls may be of different sizes. Some¬
times a dish like G is attached to the extremities of the
strings, for the purpose of holding argillaceous halls, and
halls of wax softened with a quantity of oil equal to one-
fourthpartof their weight.—See Smcaton's Experiments
on the Collision of Bodies.
M Chap.
MECHANICS.
9°
Theory.
‘ Chap. VII. On the Maximum Ejects of Machiiies.
298. We have already seen in some of the preceding
chapters, that when two bodies act upon each other by
the intervention either of a simple or compound machine,
there is an equilibrium when the velocity of the power is
to the velocity of the weight as the weight is to the power.
In this situation of equilibrium, therefore, the velocity of
the weight is nothing, and the power has no effect in
raising the weight, or, in other words, the machine per¬
forms no work. When the weight to be raised is in¬
finitely small, the velocity is the greatest possible; but
in this case likewise, the machine performs no work.
In every other case, however, between these two ex¬
tremes, some work will be performed.—In order to il¬
lustrate this more clearly, let us suppose a man employ¬
ed in raising a weight by means ot a lever with equal
arms y and that he exerts a force upon the extremity ot
the lever, equivalent to 50 pounds. If the weight to
be raised is also 50 pounds, there will be an equilibri¬
um between the force of the man and the weight to be
raised, the machine will remain at rest, and no work
will be performed. If the man exert an additional
force of one pound, or if his whole force is 51 pounds,
the equilibrium will be destroyed, the weight will rise
with a very slow motion, and the machine will therefore
perform some work. When the motion of the machine
therefore is =0 the work performed is also nothing,
and when the machine is in such a state that the power
preponderates, the work performed increases. Let us
now suppose that the weight suspended from the lever
is infinitely small, the motion of the machine will then
he the greatest possible ; but no work will be perform¬
ed. If the weight however is increased, the motion of
the machine will be diminished, and work will be per¬
formed. Here then it is evident that the work per¬
formed increases from nothing when tile velocity is a
maximum, and decreases to nothing when the velocity
is a minimum. There must therefore be a particular
velocity when the work performed is a maximum, and
this particular velocity it is our present object to de¬
termine. Sometimes, indeed, the velocities, of the
machine are determined by its structure, and there¬
fore it is out of the power of the machine to ob¬
tain a maximum effect by properly proportioning them.
The same object however may be obtained, by making
the work to be performed, or the resistance to be over¬
come, in a certain proportion to the power which is em¬
ployed to perform the work or overcome the resist¬
ance.
299. Def. i.—In a machine performing work, tlie
poAvers employed to begin and continue the motion of the
machine, are called thefirst movers, themovers of powers;
and those powers which oppose the production and conti¬
nuance of motion are called resistances. The friction
of the machine, the inertia of its parts, and the work
to be performed, all oppose the production and conti¬
nuance of motion, and are therefore the resistances to
be overcome. When various powers act at the same
time, and in different directions, the equivalent force
which results from their combined action is called the
Plate moving force, and the force resul ting from all the resisting
CCCXXIL forces, the resistance. If the machine, for example, is a
*g-I* lever AB moving round the centre F, by means of which,
two men raise water out of two pump barrels by the Theory,
chains An, Gw attached to the pistons, and passing over
the arched heads or circular sectors M, N, for the pur¬
pose of giving the pistons and chains a vertical motion.
Let the force of the man at B, six feet from F, be e-
qual to 50 pounds, or tt, his mechanical energy to turn
the lever is 6 X 50=300. Let the force of the other
man applied at E, four feet from F, be also equal to
50 pounds, or p. His mechanical energy will be
4 X 50=200, so that the whole moving power is equal
to 300-1-200=500. But if the two forces of 50
pounds, instead of being applied at two different dis¬
tances from F, had been applied at the same point
G, 5 feet from F, their energy to turn the lever would
have hcen the same, for 5 X 50+50=500. In the pre¬
sent case, therefore, the moving force is equivalent to
P X GF, or a force of 100 pounds acting at a distance of
five feet from the centre of motion. Now let us suppose
that each piston A u, C rv raises 60 pounds of water e-
quivalent to the weights u, w, and that CF=2 feet,
and AF=3 feet, then the mechanical energy of these
weights will be respectively 2x60=120, and 3x 60
= 180, and the sum of their energies =300. But two
forces of 60 pounds each, acting at the distances two
feet and three feet from F, are equivalent to their sum
= 120 pounds, acting at a distance of two feet and a
half from F, for 2-J X 120=300 ; therefore, the resist¬
ance arising from the work to be performed, or from
the water raised in the pump barrels, is equal to a weight
P of 120 pounds acting at the distance I)F=2£ feet.
But in addition to the resistance arising from the work
to be performed, the two men have to overcome the re¬
sistance arising from the friction of the piston in the
barrels, which we may suppose equivalent to/j <p, each
equal to 10 pounds, acting at the points A, C y but
these forces are equivalent to 20 pounds, or f-{-<p act¬
ing at D, therefore the resistance arising from the work
and from friction is equal to 140 pounds, acting at the
distance I3F=2 feet and a half. While the two men
are employed in overcoming these resistances, they have
also to contend against the inertia of the beam AFj
and that of the chains and pistons, which we may sup¬
pose equal to 20 pounds when collected in their centre
of gravity g, whose distance from F is 2.2 feet; but a
weight of 20 pounds acting at the distance of 2.2 feet
is equivalent to a weight of pounds, acting at
the distance of 2.5 feet,, or DF, consequently the sum
of all the resistances when reduced to the same point I)
of the lever is equal to 159! pounds acting at the dis¬
tance of 2.5 feet from F. The mechanical energy,
therefore, of the sum of all the resistances will be =
2.5 X 1594= 398-75) while the energy of the moving
force, or the sum of all the moving powers, is equal to
500.
300. Def. 2.—The impelled point of a machine is that
point to which the moving power is applied, if there is
only one power, or that point to which all the moving
powers are reduced, or at which the moving force is sup¬
posed to act. The working point of a machine is that
point at which the resistance acts if it is single, or that
point to which all the resistances are reduced, and at
which they are supposed to act when combined. Thus
in fig. 1. G is the impelled point of the machine, and v
D the working point. Had a single force tt been ap-S' U
plied at the point B to raise a single iveight u, acting
at
MECHANICS
at the point A, then B would have been the impelled
^ory' i point, and A the working point of the machine. In the
wheel and axle, the point of the wheel at which the
rope touches its circumference is the impelled point,
while the working point is that point in the circumfe¬
rence of the axle where the rope which carries the
weight is in contact with it.
301. Def. 3.—The velocity of the moving power, and
the velocity of the resistance, are respectively the same
as the velocity of the impelled point, and the velocity
of the working point.
302. Def. 4.—The effect oi a machine, or the work
performed, is equal to the resistance multiplied by the ve¬
locity of the working point 5 for when any machine raises
a mass of matter to a given height in a certain time, the
effect produced is measured by the product of the mass,
and the height through which it rises, that is, by the
product of the mass by the velocity with which it moves.
303. Def. 5.—The momentum of impuhe is equal to
the moving force multiplied by the velocity of the im¬
pelled point.
plana- 3°4* 1° any machine that has a motion of rotation,
n of let x be the velocity of the impelled point, and y the
nbols. velocity of the working point. When the machine is
a lever, .r, y will express the perpendiculars let fall
from the centre of motion upon the line of direction in
which the forces act j and if the machine is a wheel
and axle, x, y will represent the diameters el the wheel
fend the axle respectively. In compound machines,
which may be regarded as composed of levers, (Art. 90.)
x will represent the sum of all the levers by which the
power acts, and y the sum of all the levers by which
the i*esistance acts.
305. Let P be the real pressure which the moving
power exerts at the impelled point of the machine, and
R the actual pressure which the mere resistance of the
work to be performed exerts at the working point, or
which it directly opposes to the direction of the power.
Let a be the inertia of the power P, or the mass of
matter which the power P must move with the veloci¬
ty of the impelled point, in order that P may exert its
pressure at the impelled point •, and let b be the inertia
of the resistance R, or the mass of matter which must
be moved with the velocity of the working point in the
performance of the work.
306. Since the resistance arising from the friction of
the communicating parts is an uniformly retarding
force, it may be measured by a weight acting at the
working point of the machine, which will oppose the
same resistance to the moving power as the friction of
the parts. i
307. Let m be the inertia of the machine, or rather
that quantity of matter, which acting at the working
point of the machine will require the same part ol the
' moving force to give it an angular motion, then since y
repx-esents the arm of the lever by which the resistance
acts, or the distance of the working point from the
centre of motion *, and since the momentum of inertia, or
the momentum with which any mass revolving round a
centre resists being put in motion, is equal to its quan¬
tity of matter multiplied by the square of its distance
from its centre of motion (see article Rotation), we
have m y2 for the momentum of inertia of the machine.
It is obvious that every machine opposes a certain resis-
91
tance to any force that endeavours to give it an angU- Theory,
lar motion, and that this resistance will increase with—v"—*
the inertia of its parts. It is easy, therefore, to find a
quantity of matter, which, when placed at any part of
the machine, will oppose the same resistance to an angu¬
lar motion, as the combined inertia of the various parts
of the machine. This is the quantity of matter which
wre have called tn, and which we have supposed to act
at the working point, because to that point all the other
resistances have been reduced. Collecting the symbols,
therefore, we have
x~ the velocity of the impelled point or the ra¬
dius of the wheel, or the length of the le¬
ver by which the power acts.
y=the velocity of the w orking point, or the ra¬
dius of the axle, or the length of the le¬
ver by which the resistance acts against
the power.
P=the pressure exerted by the power at the im¬
pelled point of the machine.
Rszthe pressure which the resistance arising from
the work to be performed exerts at the
working point of the machine,
or:the inertia of the power P, or the quantity
of matter to which it must communicate
the velocity of the impelled point.
Z>:r the inertia of the resistance R, or the quan¬
tity of matter which it must move with
the velocity of the working point before
any work is performed.
<p —a quantity of matter which, if placed at the
working point of the machine, would op¬
pose the same resistance to the moving
power as that which arises from the fric¬
tion of the communicating parts,
wrrthc quantity of matter which, if placed at
the working point of the machine, -would
oppose the same resistance to the produc¬
tion of an angular motion, that is opposed
by the inertia of the various parts of which
the machine is composed. Hence, by the
principles of rotation, wre have
my2—the momentum of inertia of the machine.
We are nowr prepared for determining the conditions of
construction, which will enable any machine to produce
a maximum effect.
Prof. I.
308. To determine the velocities which must be
given to the impelled and working points of a
machine, or the ratio of the levers by which the
power and resistance ought to act, in order to
^obtain a maximum effect.
Let AB be a lever, whose fulcrum is F, and to Fig. 2.
whose extremity B is applied to the power P to over¬
come the resistance R, and let 1B—.r, and I A=y.
Then, by Art. 36. we shall have, from the following
analoiry, the weight which, placed at B, would be in
equilibrio with R ; * : y=R : the weight which
will keep R in equilibrio, or the weight which is equal
AI2 t «
M E C H
to that part of the power P which balances the resist-
R y
ance R. Hence, P   will he the effective force
x
exerted by the power P, which, multiplied by x*, its
distance from the centre of motion gives P x—11 ?/ for
the force which is exerted in giving an angular motion
to the power and resistance. But the resistance of fric¬
tion was supposed equal to the weight $ acting at the
working point or at the distance FA or y; consequently,
$ y Avill be the resistance which friction opposes to the
force P x—Ity, and therefore P x—11 y—<p y is the mo¬
tive force exerted by P. Now, the momentum of the in¬
ertia of the power P, or the force with which it resists be¬
ing put in motion, is ax*, and the momentum of inertia
of the resistance R is by*, while the momentum of in¬
ertia of the machine is my*. Therefore, the sum of these
momenta, viz. ax* -\-byx -\-my* is the mass to be put
in motion by the power P. But, by Dynamics, § 167.
the velocity generated in a given time is directly as the
motive force, and inversely as the quantity of matter to
which that force is applied. Hence the angular velo¬
city, or the number of turns which the machine will
, . . • • P#—Py—-r, ,.
make m a given time, is  —  Hr-. But in eve-
6 ’ axz-\-by'-\-my*
ry rotatory machine the velocities of its different parts
are as their distance from the axis j hence, we shall
have the velocities of the impelled and working points
of the machine, by multiplying the angular velocity by
x, y the distances of the impelled and working points
of the machine from the centre of motion. There¬
fore,
~~i—7'"Y~—-^-7-—the velocity of the impelled point,
cldc by ljly
and
Vxy—Ry*—<£>//* . . . ,
—- r v”. rr“— the velocity 01 the working point
ax* -\-by* -\-my* J . 01
of the machine j and multiplying by R, we have from
Def. 4.
A N I C S.
ing the fluxion of the preceding formula =0, we shall Theon
find that the performance of the machine is a maximum, -v--».
when
P X yR—R* y* — <£> R y*
a2 X R+Pi2 -1- X m +
(\ i rtR-
-a<p
y~ Pm+Vb
When R~o, ive have
a2ip2 -}-P*a X ^ -j-^'
•X*.
-a <p
r-
Xx.
Pm-f-P/i
When <p=o, the first formula becomes
_c2RI + P2« X m -\-b\l—a R
y~ P^+P^ X^
When both R and ®~o, avc have, after reduction,
-v/ a
y~-
X A.
X
sj ?n-\-b
When b—Q, the first formula becomes
 a1 x R-Kf+PWf—oR—a(p
y— y7i
When R, <p and b—o, Ave have
J a
V——}— X K-
When a : Z>=P : R, avc have, by substituting P and
R instead of a and b,
7/_P2 xlt+el’-f P3 X m -f R|f—PR—Ytp
Vm + VR Xa?-
When P and Q—O, the last formula becomes
 P2R2 -fP3Rlf—PR  /P^R^-fPsR PR
y— pr x v—^ Pip ppx ^
, , , —  zr the Avork performed.
ax2 -\-v7j2 -\-?ny2
309. But as forces are proportional to the Arelocities
generated by them in equal times (Dynamics, § 153.
Cor. 4. § 159.), the preceding quantities will represent
the accelerating forces. Noav, the velocities are as the
forces and times jointly (Dynamics, § 153.), that is,
i’~ ‘< ^ t>r is = g £ F; but F, the accelerating force,
which generates the velocity of the impelled point, is
represented by the formula  . There-
ax2 by2 -\-my2
foi-c, v, or the absolute velocity of the impelled point, is
Paz—R x y—tpxy , , , , , .
x'ga"d the absolute veIocity »f
. Vxy—R?/*—?y*
the working point y g t. Again, by
Def. 4. the effect of a machine, or the work performed,
is equal to the resistance of the work multiplied by the
velocity; consequently, since R is the Avork, Ave have
for the performance of the machine,
P x yR—R,y2—¥> R y2
ax2 by2 my2 ‘
3Woa\t, considering y as the variable quantity, and mak-
/■p
-•
—I,
R+I
and Avhen xzx 1, and R—1, avc have
y—x/p+i)—1»
and Avhen Pm, and x—i, avc obtain
^r+iH-
When xzz 1,
R
-j-i
These various formulae, the application of Avhich
to particular cases shall be sboAvn 111 the practical part
of this article, give us A'alues ot y for almost every spe¬
cies of machinery j so that the mechanic may easily de¬
termine the velocities which must be given to the im¬
pelled and Avorking points of the machine in order to
produce a maximum effect.
310- W hen the machine, hoA\Tever, is already con-
stiacted, the velocities of the impelled and Avorking
points cannot he changed, without altering the struc¬
ture of the machine j and therefore we must find the
ratio between the potver and resistance, which Avill
enable
MECHANICS.
’hcorv.
enable «s to obtain a maximum effect. The method of
determining this will he shewn in the following proposi¬
tion.
by these substitutions in the formula which expresses the
effect of the machine, ^ ^ ^ ^
a -}- m -j- c/iiy2’
or, for the sake
Prop. II.
311. To determine the ratio between the power
and the resistance of a machine when its per¬
formance is a maximum.
Since the structure of the machine is given, the va¬
lues of a'-, y are known, and therefore we have to deter¬
mine the relative values of P and R, when the effect of
the machine is a maximum. This would be easily
done, by making II variable in the formula which ex¬
presses the performance of the machine, and making its
fluxion equal to o, if none of the other quantities varied
along with R. It often happens, however, that while
R varies, the mass b suffers a considerable change,
though in other cases the change induced upon b is too
unimportant to merit notice. This proposition, there¬
fore, admits of two cases, I. When the change upon b
is so small that it may be safely omitted in the investi¬
gation 5 and, 2.- When the change upon b is sufficient¬
ly great to require attention.
312. Case i. When R is the only quantity which
is variable, the fluxion of the formula
P ?/ R—IP if—? R y*
ax% -\-b y1 m y '~
which represents the work performed, is equal to the
fluxion of the numerator, because the denominator is
constant, that is, P a; y R—2RRy*—<p liy2=:o, and,
dividing by R ; P xy—2 R y2—<p y*=o, hence 2 R y1^
P xy—<p y*, and R—which, divided by y,
2y
JP 'y 7/ .
gives R=—  —. Now, according to the expcri-
2 y
ments of Coulomb, the friction is, in general, propor¬
tional to the resisting pressure, or a certain part of that
pressure, for example, i^R 5 and calling and
omitting <p y, we have for the resistance R-J-^R,
or or R=f — I -4- an(1 making P
2y \2yJ
I, and xzzi, we have R=r^-^^ -t-ttj so that ab¬
stracting from the quotient -fy, which being little
greater than 1, will not alter the result, the resistance
should be one-half of the force which would keep the
impelling power in equilibrio.-
313. Case 2. When b varies at the same time with
R, it will in most cases vary in the same proportions,
and therefore may be represented by any multiple of
R, as d R, where d may be either an integer or a frac¬
tion. In order to simplify the investigation, we may
consider the fraction as a resistance diminishing the
impelling power, instead of regarding it as a resistance
to be added to the other resisting forces. Thus the im¬
pelling power P will become P—<p. In the same way
we may consider the momentum of the machine’s in¬
ertia applied to the impelled point, that is, instead of
my1 it may be made mx*. Now making P—tp, or the
impelling power mi, and making arm 1, We. shall have
of simplicity, making a 171—q, we have for the per¬
formance of the machine then since R is the
q •\-dry
variable quantity, we shall find, after making the fluxion
of this formula mo, that the performance is a maximum
wi1enK=£±2Mim.
dy
When Zmll then d—1, and we shall have
R-2L±Mlll2.
y1
When a m P and P= 1, and when m, the inertia of the
machine, =0, we shall have a -{- mzzlzzq, and then the
formula becomes
R—
yx
When ymv, then yml, and
1
-mo.4142.
Scholium.
314. Those who wish to prosecute this interesting
subject may consult the different papers of Euler in the
Comment. PetropoL vol. x. p. 80, 1743, and in the
Comment. Nov. Petropol. vol. iii. and viii. In the article
Machinery in the Supplement to the last edition of
this Work, the subject has been treated with great
ability by Dr Robison, though he has omitted the vari¬
ous steps in the investigation which conduct to the
leading formulte. The subject has been also ably dis¬
cussed by Professor Leslie in a paper published in the
Appendix to Ferguson’s Lectures, vol. ii. p. 353 ) and
as the results of his investigations may be of great use
in practice, we shall here present the reader with a
short abstract of them.
If the resistance is equal to the power, is double, tri¬
ple, or quadruple, &x. a maximum effect will be pro¬
duced ivhen the velocity of the power, or its distance
from the centre of motion, is i-j-v/ 2j2-}-.\/6j3+V/l2?
4—v'20? 5 + VS0? 6-f ^42, that of the weight be¬
ing 1, &c. If the resistance is very great, compared
with the power, the velocity should at least be double
of that which would procure an equilibrium, in order
that the machine will produce a maximum effect.
3x3. If the velocity of the power, or its distance from
the centre of motion, be equal to, double, triple, qua¬
druple, &c. &c. of the velocity of the weight or re¬
sistance, a maximum effect will be produced when the
power P is equal toR X 1 '•> RX n -p \b t )
R X T -j- V A ? ^ X i ~}~ v/ A R X 5 + v'rls-, &c.
where R is the resistance or weight to be raised. It the
velocity of the power be very large, a maximum ellect
will be produced when the power B is, at least, double
of that which would procure an equilibrium. It ap¬
pears also from Mr Leslie’s paper, that in whatever
way the maximum be procured, the force which impel Is
'Fig- 3-
Fig. 4.
Fig- 5-
Tig. 6.
M E C H
the weight can never amount io one-fourth part of the
direct action of the power j and that in machines where
the velocity of the power is great, we may disregard
the momenta of the connecting parts, and consider the
force which ought to be employed as double of what is
barely able to maintain the equilibrium.
Chap. VIII. On the Equilibrium of Arches, Etas,
and Domes.
316. Def. 1. An arch is repn6sented in fig. 3. by
the assemblage of stones o 5, cd, cf &c. forming the mass
ABMN, whose inferior surface is the portion of a
curve. The parts A, B are called the spring of the
arch, the line AB the span of the arch, C b its altitude,
b its crown, a b the keystone, the curve or lower sur¬
face A 6 B the intrados, and the roadway '1UV the
extrados ; PQ, RS, the piers when they stand between
two arches, and the abutments when they are at the
extremities of the bridge.
317. Def. 2. A catenarian curve is the curve formed
by any line or cord perfectly flexible, and suspended
by its extremities. Thus if the chain AC B be suspend¬
ed by its extremities A, B, it will by the action of gra¬
vity upon all its parts assume the form ACB, which is
called the catenary or catenarian curve.
318. There are three modes of determining the con¬
struction of arches j the first of which is to consider the
arch as an inverted catenary j the second is to establish
-an equilibrium between the vertical pressures of all
the materials between the intrados and extrados ; and
the third is to regard the different arch-stones as por¬
tions of wedges without friction, which endeavour by
their own weight to force their way through the arch.
The first of these methods was given by the ingenious
Dr Ho.ok, and is contained in the folloAving proposi¬
tion.
a Prop. I.
319. T0 determine the form of an arch by con¬
sidering it as an inverted catenary, when its
span, its altitude, and the form of the roadway
or extrados are given.
Let a, b, c, be a number of spheres or beads con¬
nected by a string, and suspended by their extremities
A, B •, they will form a catenarian curve A a £ c B,
and be in equilibrio by the action of gravity. Each
sphere is acted upon by two forces j at its lower point by
the weight of the spheres immediately below it, and at
its upper point by the weight of the same spheres added
to that of the sphere itself j that is, any sphere c is in
equilibrio from the result of two forces, one of which
is produced by the weights of c d e acting at the lower
point of b, while the other force arises from the aveight
of b c d e acting at its upper point. The equilibrium
of this chain of spheres is evidently of the stable kind,
as it will immediately recover its position Avhen the
equilibrium is disturbed. Let us hoav suppose this
arch inverted, so as to stand in a vertical plane as in
fig. 6. It Avill still preserve its equilibrium. For the
relative positions of the lines which mark the directions
-remain unchanged by inverting the curve, the force of
3
A N I € S.
gravity continues the same, and therefore the result of Tl,eorv
these forces Avill be the same, and the arch will be in 1 v—.
equilibrio. The equilibrium, hoAvever, which the arch
noAV possesses is of the tottering kind, so that the least
disturbing force AA'ill destroy it, and it Avill consequently
be unable to support any other Aveight but its own.
320. Let us noAV suppose that it is required to form
an equilibrated arch, whose span is AB, Avhose altitude
is D k, and which Avill support the materials of a road-
Avay, whose form TUV is given. It is obvious,
that if the spheres a, b, c, d increase in density from k
toAvards a, the catenarian curve Avill grow less concave at
its vertex c, and more concave toAvards its extremities
A, B. Let us then suppose that the densities of the spheres
a, b, c, d, e, &c. are respectively as a m, b n, c 0, dp, e q,
&c. the vertical distances of their respective centres
from the roadAvay TUV, the arch Avill have a form
different from that which it would have assumed if the
spheres were of equal density, and Avill be in equilibrio
Avhen inverted as in fig. 6. Noaa', in place of the Fig. 6.
spheres a, b, c, d, e, &c.of different densities, let us sub¬
stitute spheres of the same density, and having the same
position as those of different densities j let us then load
the sphere a with a Aveight Avhich, Avhen combined with
the AAreight of a, Avill be equal to the Aveight of the cor-
responding sphere a, that had a greater density ; arid
let us load the other spheres b, c, d, &c. with Aveights
proportional to b n, c 0, dp, &c. Then it is obvious
that the pressure of each sphere when thus loaded upon
that which is contiguous to it, is precisely equal to the
pressure of the spheres of different densities upon each
other, because the density of these spheres varied as
their distances from the roadway. But the arch com¬
posed of spheres of different densities Avas in equilibrio
when invei'ted, therefore since the loaded spheres of the
same density have the same position and exert the same
'pressures, the arch Composed of these spheres and sup¬
porting TUVB k A composed of homogeneous materi¬
als Avill be iri equilibrio. Hence a roadway of a given
form, and composedofhomogeneous materials, will be sup¬
ported by an arch whose form is that of a catenary, each
of whose points varies in density as their distance from
the surface of the roadway; or, Avhich is the same
thing, A roadway of a given form, and composed of
homogeneous materials, will be supported by an aixh
ivhose form is that of a catenary, each of whose points
is acted upon by forces proportional to the distances cf
these points from the surface of the roadway.
321. Hence Ave have the folloAving practical method
of ascertaining the form of an equilibrated arch, Avhose
span is AB, and altitude D k, and which is to support
a roadAvay of the form T'U'Vh Let a chain pig. 7
A a £ c £ B, of uniform density, be suspended from the
points A, B, so that it forms a catenary Avhose altitude
is D k, the required height of the arch. Divide AB
into any number of equal parts, suppose eight, and let
the vertical lines I m, in, 30, draAA-n from these
points, intersect the catenary in the points a,b,c. From
the points a,b,c,k,r,s,t, suspend pieces of chain of uni¬
form density, and form them of such a length, that
when the whole is in equilibrio, the extremities of the
chains may lie in the line T'U'V'j then the form Avhich
the catenary A A: B now assumes, Avill be the form of
an equilibrated arch, Avhich, when inverted like AKB,
will support the roadway TUV, similar to T'U'V'.
This
MECHANICS.
-hcory. This is obvious from tbe last paragraph, for the pieces
-yl—i 0f cliain a m, b n, c o, A: U, &c. are forces acting upon
the points o, A, cy k of the catenary, and are proportion¬
al to a m, b,«, c, o, &c. the distances of the points o,
b, c, k, &c. from the roadway.
322. An arch of this construction will evidently an¬
swer for a bridge, in which the weight of the materials
between the roadway and the arch stones is to the
weight of the arch stones, as the weight of all the pieces
of chain suspended from c, b, c, &c. is to the weight of
the chain A A: B. As the ratio, however, of the weight
of the arch stones to the weight of the superincumbent
materials is not known, we may assume a convenient
thickness for the arch stones, and if from this assumed
thickness their weight be computed, and be found to
have the required ratio to the weight of the incumbent
mass, the curve already found will be a proper form
for the arch. But if the ratio is different from that of
the weight of the whole chain to the weight of the sus¬
pended chains •, it may easily be computed how much
must be added to or subtracted from the pieces of chain,
in order to make the ratios equal. The new curve
which the catenary then assumes, in consequence of the
change upon the length of the suspended chains, will be
the form of an equilibrated arch, the weight of whose
arch stones is equal to that which we assumed.
Scholium.
95
is parallel to it. Let us now suppose that the lines Theory.
CD, DE, EB, &c. can move round the angular points —v'—
D, E, B, F, &c. the extremities A, C being immove¬
able j and that forces proportional to Dr/, Ec, BA, See.
are exerted upon the points D, E, B, F, See. and iix
the direction D d, E e, &c. Now, by the resolution of
forces, the force D d may be resolved into the forces
Dc, D p, the force E e into the forces E E r, and the
force B b into the forces BB t, and so on with the
rest. The force D c produces no other effect than to
press the point A on the plane on which it rests, and is
therefore destroyed by the resistance of that plane j but
the remaining force Dp tends to bring the point D to¬
wards E, and to enlarge the angle ADE j this force,
however, is destroyed by the equal and opposite force
E q, and in the same way the forces E B #, F at are
destroyed by the equal and opposite forces B.v, FA, Go,
while the remaining force G tv is destroyed by the re¬
sistance of the plane which supports the point C. When
the lines AD, DE, &e. therefore are acted upon by
vertical forces proportional to D d, E e, B A, &c. these
forces are all destroyed by equal and opposite ones, and
the lines will remain in equilibrio.
326. Now the force D c : Dj» or E ^rrsin. c c/ D or
d D p : sin. AD c/, that is, by taking the reciprocals
D c . E q— • sjn> (i
'ig- 3.
323. In most cases the catenarian curve thus deter*
mined will approach very near to a circular arc equal
to 120 degrees, which springs from the piers so as to
form an angle of 60 degrees with the horizon. I he
form of the arch, however, as determined in the pre¬
ceding proposition, is suited only to those cases in which
the superincumbent materials exert a vertical pressure.
A quantity of loose earth and gravel exerts a- pressure
in almost every direction, and therefore tends to destroy
the equilibrium of a catenarian arch. 1 his tendency,
however, may be removed by giving the arch a greater
curvature towards the piers. This will make it approach
to the form of an ellipsis, and make it spring more ver¬
tically from the piers or abutments.
324. We shall now proceed'to deduce the form ol an
arch and its roadway, by establishing an equilibrium a-
mong the weights of all the materials between tne
arch and the roadway. This method was given by Emer¬
son in his Fluxions, published in 174^» and afterwards
by Dr Hutton in his excellent work on bridges.
Prop. II.
325. To determine the form of the roadway or
extrados, when the form of the arch or intrados
is given.
Let the lines AD, DE, EB, BF, FG, GH lie in
the same plane, and let them be placed perpendicular
to the horizon. From the points D, E, B, &c. draw the
vertical lines D c/, E e, B A, &c. and taking D/J of any
length, make E r equal to D p, &c. and complete the
parallelogramsc, q r. Again, make B s—q e, and com¬
plete the parallelogram ts; in like manner makeFk~sby
and complete the parallelogram h f; and so on with all
the other lines, making the side of each parallelogram
equal to that side of the preceding parallelogram which
and for the same reason
E a : B s~-
J. c
sin. Y.eq ' sin. A B s'
Hence
E (id=.-
"sin. Yutq
sin. Y e q’
Now, since E <7 : E e = sin. Ye q : sin. E <7 e, we have
E c— llTNl'n^iTl; that is, since DEwzrEye, and
sin. E e q
^ E q X sin. DE?« A t- 1
eYYzzYeq; Ye— sin ^ jtjj *Bu E?:
therefore, by substitution, we obtain
sin. DEw
G ’ " - - ■■ ^— ■■ 1 , 1 1 *'"v"" *
“^sin. Ee<7 X sin. e EB
Now, as the same reasoning may be employed to find'
D <7, B A, &c. we have obtained expressions of the
forces which, when acting at the angular points D,
E, B, &c. keep the whole in equilibrio, and these ex¬
pressions are in terms of the angles which the lines DE,
EB, &c. form with the direction of the forces. If the
lines AD, DE, &c. be increased in number so that
they may form a polygon’With an infinite number of
sides, which will not differ from a curve line, then the
forces will act.at every point of the curve, and the line
m E will be a tangent to the curve at the point E, and
DE m will be the angle of contact. The line E y be¬
ing now infinitely small will coincide with E and
therefore the angles eYq and e EB or E e y will be
equal to the angle e Y my and consequently their sines
will be equal. Therefore by making these substitutions
in the last formula, we have an expression of the force
at every point of the curve, thus _
sin. DE w  ■ sm' DE m
Ee~rsin. e Y in X sin. eYm - sin. e Ym f
But
96
MECHANICS.
Theory. But tlie angle of contact DE m varies with the
”■—v'---1 curvature at the point E, and the curvature varies as
the reciprocal of the radius of curvature, therefore the
angle of contact varies as the reciprocal of the radius
of curvature 5 hence by substitution,
Fig. 9.
radius of curvature X sin. e E m*
In order to get rid of the confusion in fig. 8. where the
arch is a polygon, let us suppose ABC, fig. 9. to be the
curve m n a tangent to any point E, and E e a vertical
line ; then the pressure at any point of the arch is reci¬
procally as the radius of curvature at that point, and the
square of the sine of the angle which the tangent to that
point of the curve forms with a vertical line.
327. Corollary. Let us now suppose that the arch
ABC supports a mass of homogeneous materials lying be¬
tween the roadway TUY and the arch AEBC 5 and the
whole being supposed in equilibrio, let us determine
the weight which presses on the point E. The weight
of the superincumbent column Echd varies as Ec Y.gd,
but g d— E d X sin. d E g, E d being radius, and d E g
—E ?i B, on account of the parallels E c, UB, there¬
fore the weight of the column E c h d varies as E c X
E rfxsiu- E rc B, that is, as E cX sin. E n B, because
E e? is a constant quantity ; but the pressure at E was
proved to vary as , there-
radius curvature X sin. e E m2,
fore the weight of the column Y.cbd or EeXsin. E/jB
varies also as this quantity, that is,
E c X sin. E n Bri:   —- .
radius curvature X sin. e E m*
But as the angle E « B is equal to the angle e E m, we
shall have, by substitution and division,
E czg.   ■■ ■■ , that is,
radius curvature X sin. e E ?»|3
When an arch supports a roadway, the pressure ex¬
erted upon any point of it, is reciprocally as the radius
of curvature, and the cube of the sine of the angle which
the tangent to that point forms with a vertical line.
328. Having thus obtained an expression for E c, wre
shall proceed to shew the application of the formula to
the case when the arch is a portion of a circle.
'Fig. 10. -k6* BB be the arch of a circle whose centre is
F. Let the radius rr R, BH = versed sine, BErr.r,
DFrrcos. BEzz&, BU=m. Draw the tangent GE,
and through E the vertical line c e, which will be
parallel to BE. Then since GEF is a right angle,
andcEFrrEFB, the angle GE e is the complement
of EFB, therefore, sin. GE crrcos. EFBrrFD. But,
in the present case, the radius of curvature is the radius
of the arch, or R, therefore, E trz:
RXsin. GE e
, or by
substitution, E cr= that is, since R is constant,
E c~ -j-. But when the point E coincides with B,
the cosine b becomes equal to radius ; therefore, in that
case E c~ ~, and E c becomes BU — m, hence
■
1 1
R3 :
= m : E r, and by GEOMETRY, Theor. 8.
\
1
m Id
~ld '
N«
Sect. IV. and Division, we have E c~
by the notation R : A=rBF : DF •, therefore R3 : o3
  R3 mpM
— BE3 : DF3, hence — = and multiplying each
side by m, We have
Z»3 BE3'
ni R3 m BI 3
b* ~ DF3 ’ but Id c'
therefore the vertical distance oi the surface of the
m BF3 BU X BF3
roadway from the point F, or Er:
DF3
DF3
by R—y|3, we have mEd—y'gR—yp-j-wz X R—//[3, or
m W X l <—y|3—// X R—z/l3, and, dividing bv the
coefficients of m, we have
y xR—z/l3
R3-—R—z/|3
that
The thickness of the roadway above the keystone, when
the extrados is a straight line, is equal to the quotient
'Tii eery.
When the point E coincides with B, BF~DF, and
E crzBU. When E coincides with A, the cosine DF
vanishes, and therefore E c, or the distance of the
point A from the extrados or roadway, is infinite. The
curve VUcT, therefore, will run up to an infinite
height, approaching continually to a vertical line,
drawn from A, which will be its asymptote. Such a
form of the extrados, however, is inadmissible in prac¬
tice 5 and therefore a semicircular arch is not an arch
of equilibration. When the arch is less than a semi¬
circle, as PBR, the curve terminates in the point p;
and as it does not rise very much above a horizontal
line, passing through U when the arch is small, wfe
might produce a perfect equilibrium, by making the
roadway horizontal as i U v, and making the density
of the superincumbent columns P n, E 0, which press
upon the points P, E respectively, in the ratio of
Pyz, E c, the distances of these points from the curvili-
neal roadway.
329. The inconvenience, however, arising from the
inflexion of the extrados, may be considerably removed
by throwing the point of contrary flexure to a greater
distance, which may he done by diminishing BU, the
thickness of the incumbent mass above the keystone.
Thus, if BU is diminished to B d, and if points a, h
are taken in the lines P/>, E c, so that P a : P /;—E b :
E crrB d : BU, and so on with all the points in the
arch ; and if a new roadway v db at be drawn through
these points, the equilibrium of the arch will still
continue, for the various pressures which it sustained,
though they are diminished, preserve the same proportion.
330. Let us suppose it necessary to have the extrados
a horizontal line, and let it be required to find BU~7/£
when there is an equilibrium. In this case the point H
coincides with U ; or rather, when the curve UcT cuts
the horizontal line t U i', the point PI coincides with U.
By substituting BF—BD instead of DP' in the value
ol E c, formerly determined, and by putting BD=y,
??i R3
we have E c— But when H coincides with U,
. tf-yl
c coincides with 0, and therefore E orzE e—BD-j-BU
, , R3 , . , .
—y-Tmi consequently, -.7^—-~y-\-m, and multiplying
  K—J'l
MECHANICS.
icon-.
arising from multiplying the versed sine of half the
J arch by the cube of its cosine, and dividing this product
by the difference between the cube of the radius, and
the cube of the cosine ; or, to change the expressions,
the thickness of the roadway above the keystone, when
the roadway is a straight line, is equal to the quotient
arising from multiplying the height of the arch, by the
cube of the difference between the radius of the arch
and its height, and dividing this product by the dif¬
ference between the cube of the radius, and the cube of
the difference between the radius and the height of tfie
arch.
331. When the arch is a semicircle I?—y vanishes,
and m becomes equal o, so that the semicircular arch is
evidently inadmissible. But when the arch is less than
a semicircle, the value of m will be finite. Thus, if
the arches are respectively
Arch.
6o°, we have m~^ the span,
90°, we have of the span, or
no0, we have °f the span nearly.
The two first arches of 6o0 and 90°, manifestly give
too great a thickness to the part BU or m. In the
third arch of iiq°, the thickness of BD is nearly what
is given to it by good architects, and is therefore the
best in practice 5 for if the arch were made greater
than no0, the fhickness of BU or m would be too
small. It is obvious, however, that an arch of no0 is
not an arch of perfect equilibration, for this can be the
case only when the roadway has the form U 2i r. W hen
the roadway, therefore, is horizontal, as U r, there is
an unbalanced pressure on both sides of the keystone,
produced by the weight of the materials in the mixti-
linear space r z U. It is indeed very small, and might
he counteracted, by making the materials below R
lighter than those below U: but the unbalanced pres¬
97
sure is so trifling, that it may be safely neglected. Wre Theory,
may, therefore, conclude, that when ijie arch is to bey——a
circular with a horizontal roadway, an arch of no de¬
grees approaches nearest to an arch of equilibration.
332. W hen the arch is elliptical, it will be found, Elliptical
v It “b arches su*
as in the circle, that m~ ——■ —. An elliptical^1™! to
R3__ft 3 1 circular
J arches
arch, however, has the advantage of a circular one, when theit
when the transverse axis is horizontal j for as it is tn!ns.vers"
much flatter, the point of contrary flexure in the extra- hoii*
dos is thrown at a greater distance, and therefore it °U a ’
will, with less inconvenience, admit of a horizontal
roadway. Elliptical arches have also the advantage of
being more elegant, and likewise require less labour and
materials.
333- ^'!ie eycloidal arch is likewise superior to a cir¬
cular one, but inferior to those which are elliptical.
Parabolic, hyperbolic, and catenarian arches, may be
employed when the bridge has only one arch, and is
to rise high j but in other cases they are inadmissible.
The method of determining the roadway for all these
forms of arches will be found in Dr Hutton’s excellent
work on the Principles of Bridges, p. 3. See also
Emerson’s Miscellanies, p. 156. ; and his work on
Fluxions, published in 1742.
334. When the form of the roadway is given, the on the me-
shape of the intrados for an arch of equilibration may chanical
be determined. As the investigation is very difficult, curve of
unless when the roadway is a horizontal line, we shall c<ll,1bbrs-
merely give the formula, which will enable any persontl0n”
to construct the curve. In all other curves the equi¬
librium of the arch is imperfect j but the curve de¬
scribed by the following formula is an arch of perfect
equilibration, and has been called the mechanical curve
of equilibration.
ED=AFx
„ , , , BU+BD-I-xAbUxBD+BIP
Hypelbol. log. -d- -L. — 1 
„ , , , BU-f BF+x/2 BU x BF+BP
Hyperbol. log. *  
From this formula, which corresponds with figure 1 r.
Dr Hutton has computed the following table, contain¬
ing the values of c U and c E, for an arch whose span
AC is 100, whose height BF is 40, and whose thick¬
ness at the crown or BU is 6. The table will answer
for any other arch whose span and thickness are as the
numbers 100, 40, 6 ; only the values of c U and c E
must be increased or diminished in the same ratio as
these numbers.
Table for constructing the Curve of Equilibration, when the span, height, and thickness at the crown, are as the
numbers 100, 40, and 6.
Value of
cU.
o
2
4
6
8
10
12
J3
14
Value ol
cE.
f V
6.000
6-°3S
6.144
6.324
6.580
6.914
7*330
7*571
7*834
alue of
cU.
Vol. XIII. Part I.
15
16
17
18
J9
20
21
22
23
Value of
cE.
8.120
8.430
8.766
9.168
P'S1?
9*934
10.381
10.858
11.368
Value of
cU.
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
Value of
cE.
11.911
12.489
13.106
13.761
14*457
15.196
x c.980
16.811
17.693
Value of
cU.
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
Value of
cE.
18.627
19.617
20.665
21.774
22.948
24.190
25*5°5
26.894
28.364
Value of
cU.
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
Value of
cE.
29.919
3I*5<^3
33*299
35*I35
37*075
39.126
41.293
43*58i
46.000
t
N
335'
The
9 s
Theory.
M E C H A N I C S.
335. The construction of arches has also been dedu¬
ced from considering the arch-stones as frustums of po¬
lished wedges without friction, which endeavour to
force their way through the arch. This principle has
been adopted by Belidor, Parent, Bossut, Prony, and
other French philosophers, and likewise by our ingeni¬
ous countryman, the late Mr Atwood. This theory,
however, is more plausible than useful. So far from the
arch-stones having liberty to slide between those which
are contiguous to them, without friction, they are
bound together by the strongest cement, and sometimes
connected by iron pins or wedges. The theory like¬
wise requires, that the weight of the arch must regu¬
larly increase as the portion of the vertical tangent cut
oft by lines drawn from a given point in a direction
parallel to that of the joints, and therefore either the
density or the magnitude of the arch-stones must be
very great at the spring of the arch, where the portion
of the vertical tangent is a maximum. Those who wish
to be acquainted with the mode of investigation, by
which the equilibrium of arches is established in this
theory, may consult Peony’s Architecture Hydraulique,
tom. i. p. 152.
On the Construction of Piet's and Abutments.
336. In the construction of piers and abutments,
there are two circumstances which claim our attention.
I. The strength that must be given to them, in order
to resist the lateral thurst which they sustain from the
adjacent semiarches, and which tend either to overset
them, or make them slide upon their base. 2. The
form which must be given to their extremities, so that
the force of the current may be a minimum.—The ad¬
hesion of the pier to the place on which it rests is al¬
ways much greater than one-third of the pressure ; and
as the lateral thrust of the arch which this adhesion re¬
sists, is oblique to the horizon, and may be resolved in¬
to two forces, one of which is horizontal, and the
other vertical, we have the vertical portion of the la¬
teral thrust, the weight of the pier, and the friction on
its base, combined in resisting the horizontal portion of
the lateral thrust, which tends to make the pier slide
upon its base, so that there is no danger of the pier
yielding to such a pressure. We do not here consider,
that the lateral thrust which tends to give a horizontal
motion to the pier, is completely counteracted by the
lateral thrust of the opposite semiarch, because it is ne¬
cessary that the pier should have sufficient stability to
resist the lateral thrust of one semiarch, in case of the
failure of the opposite one. Let us therefore consider
the strength of the pier which will prevent it from be¬
ing overset.
337. For this purpose, let ABC be an arch, MHTO
the pier, and BUHA the loaded semiarch, whose pres¬
sure tends, to overturn the pier. Let G be the centre
of gravity of the mass BUHA: Join GA, and from
G draw GK perpendicular to AC. Then, since the
whole pressure of the arch is exerted at its spring A;
and since this pressure is the same as if the whole
weight of the arch were collected into the point G,
GA will be the direction in which the weight of the
arch and the superincumbent mass acts upon the point
A. Now, by Dynamics, the force GA may be re-
4
solved into the two forces, GK, KA, one of which KA Theorv.
endeavours to give the pier a motion of rotation about u—-y—«
the point O, while the other GK denotes the weight
of the loaded arch in the direction GK. Putting W,
therefore, for the weight or area of the superincumbent
mass, we
have GK : KA=W :
WxKA
GK
, the pressure
upon A. Now, as this force tends to turn the pier
round O by means of the lever OA, and as ONrrAM
is the perpendicular from the centre of motion upon
the line of direction, we have AMx
WxKA
GK
for the
force which tends to overturn the pier. Now, the
force which is opposed to this is the weight of the
pier MHTO collected in its centre of gravity g, which
acts by the vertical lever O ra~^-OM, because g is in
the centre of the rectangle TM (Art. 164.). But the
weight or area of the pier may be represented by OM
X MH 5 therefore, the force which resists the lateral
thrust of the loaded arch is OM X MH X J-OM, or
f MH X OM. Now, in the case of an equilibrium be-
WxKA
tween these opposing forces, we have AM X —^rj—■—
=fMH x OM2, which, by reduction, becomes OM
AM x W x KA
MHxGK
This formula gives us the
breadth of the pier which is capable of balancing the
lateral thrust j and therefore OM must be taken a little
greater than the preceding value. In practice, OM
is generally between one-fifth and one-seventh of AC,
the span of the arch. The method of finding the cen¬
tre of gravity G of the loaded arch, whether the arch
is in perfect equilibrium or not, may be seen in Dr
Hutton’s work already quoted, p. 49. A very simple
method of doing this is to form the part BUHA of a
piece of card, and to find its centre of gravity G by
the rules given in Articles 201, 202, 203. This in¬
deed supposes all the materials to be homogeneous ; but
if they are of various kinds, w7e can load the arch made
of card in a similar manner, and determine its centre of
gravity as before.
338. The limits of this article will not permit us to
apply the method of fluxions to the determination of the
form which should be given to the ends of the pier, in
order that the impulse of the current may be the least
possible. The theory of the resistance of fluids, indeed,
differs so widely from experiment, that such an investi¬
gation wmild, in this place, be of little practical utility.
It may be sufficient merely to remark, that the pier
should have an angular form, and that the impulse of
the current will be diminished as the angle is more acute.
When, the ends are semicircular, the impulse of the
stream is reduced to one half 5 and though a triangular-
termination of the piers reduces the impulse still more,
yet semicircular ends are more pleasing to the eye, and
are particularly advantageous when small vessels have
occasion to pass the arch. W hen those vessels happen
to impinge against the piers, the semicircular ends are
more able to bear the shock, and do less injury to the
vessel, while the additional quantity- of masonry will
give greater stability to the pier.
On
MECHANIC S.
i -y-—> On the Construction of Domes.
339. Definition. A dome, cupola, or vault, is
an arched roof, either of a spherical, conoidal, or sphe¬
roidal form.
The following proposition, taken from Dr Robison’s
article upon this subject, in the Supplement to the late
edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, contains a very
brief view of the theory of domes.
Proposition.
340. “ To determine the thickness of a dome
vaulting when the curve is given, or the curve
when the thickness is given.
pjate “ Let B 6 A, figure 1. be the curve which pro-
I Cxxill>ces t^,c (l°me by revolving round the vertical axis
] . 1. AD. We shall suppose this curve to be drawn through
the middle of all tire arch-stones, and that the cour¬
sing or horizontal joints are every where perpendi¬
cular to the curve. We shall suppose (as is always
the case) that the thickness KL, HI, &c. of the arch-
stones is very small, in comparison with the dimensions
of the arch. If we consider any portion HA h of the
dome, it is plain that it presses on the course, of
which HL is an arch-stone, in a direction h C perpen¬
dicular to the joint HI, or in the direction of the next
superior element /3 6 of the curve. As we proceed
downwards, course after course, we see plainly that
this direction must change, because the weight of each
course is superadded to that of the portion above it, to
complete the pressure on the course below. Through
B drawr the vertical line BCG, meeting /3 h, produced
in C. We may take 6 c to express the pressure of all
that is above it, propagated in this direction to the
joint KL. We may also suppose the weight of the
course HL united in h, and acting on the vertical.
Let it be represented by l> F. If we form the paral¬
lelogram 6 FGC, the diagonal 6 G will represent the
direction and intensity of the whole pressure on the
joint KL. Thus it appears that this pressure is conti¬
nually changing its direction, and that the line, winch
W'ill always coincide with it, must be a curve concave
downwards. If this be precisely the curve of the dome,
it will be an equilibrated vaulting: but so far from be¬
ing the strongest form, it is the weakest, and it is the li¬
mit to an infinity of others, which are all stronger than
it. This will appear evident, if wre suppose that h G
does not coincide with the curve A & B, but passes
without it. As we suppose the arch-stones to, be ex¬
ceedingly thin from inside to outside, it is plain that
this dome cannot stand, and that the weight of the
upper part will press it down, and spring the vaulting-
outwards at the joint KL. But let us suppose, on the
other hand, that 6 G falls within the curvilineal ele¬
ment b B. This evidently tends to push the arch-stone
inward, towards the axis, and would cause it to slide in,
since the joints are supposed perfectly smooth and slip¬
ping. But since this takes place equally in every stone
of this course, they must all abut on each other in the
vertical joints, squeezing them firmly together. There¬
fore, resolving the thrust h G into two, one of which is
99
perpendicular to the joint KL, and the other parallel Theory,
to it, we see that this last thrust is withstood by the '
vertical joints all around, and there remains only the
thrust in the direction of the curve. Such a dome must
therefore be firmer than an equilibrated dome, and can¬
not be so easily broken by overloading the upper part.
When the curve is concave upwards, as in the lower
part of the figure, the line h C always falls below B h,
and the point C below- B. W hen the curve is con¬
cave downwards, as in the upper part of the figure,
'h C' passes above, or without 6 B. The curvature
may be so abrupt, that even 6' Gf shall pass without
'h B', and the point G' is above Bb It is also evident
that the force which thus binds the stones of a horizon¬
tal course together, hy pushing them towards the axis,
will be greater in flat domes than in those that
are more convex 5 that it will be still greater in a
cone } and greater still in a curve whose convexity is
turned inwards : for in this last case the line 6 G will
deviate most remarkably from the curve. Such a dome
will stand (having polished joints) if the curve springs
from the base with any elevation, however small; nav,
since the friction of tivo pieces of stone is not less than
half of their mutual pressure, such a dome will stand,
although the tangent to the curve at the bottom should
be horizontal, provided that the horizontal thrust be
double the weight of the dome, which may easily be
the case if it do not rise high.
“ Thus we see that the stability of a dome depends
on very different principles from that of a common
arch, and is in general much greater. It differs also
in another very important circumstance, viz. that il
may be open jn the middle : for the uppermost course,
by tending equally in every part to slide in toward the
axis, presses all together in the vertical joints, and acts
on the next course like the key-stone of a common
arch. Therefore an arch of equilibration, which is
the weakest of all, may be open in the middle, and
carry at top another building, such as a lantern, if its
weight do not exceed that of the circular segment of
the dome that is omitted. A greater load than thi^
would indeed break the dome, by causing it to spring
up in some of the lower courses *, but this load may be
increased if the curve is flatter than the curve of equi¬
libration : and any load whatever, which will not crush
the stones to powder, may be set on a truncate cone,
or on a dome formed by a curve that is convex toward
the axis ; provided always that the foundation be effec¬
tually prevented from flying out, either by a hoop or
by a sufficient mass of solid pier on which it is set.
“ We have seen that if G, the thrust compounded
of the thrust h C, exerted by all the courses above
HILK, and if the force F, or the weight of that
course, be everywhere coincident with l> B, the ele¬
ment of the curve, we shall have an equilibrated dome j
if it falls within it, we have a dome which will bear a
greater load ; and if it falls without it, the dome will
break at the joint. We must endeavour to get analytical
expressions of these conditions. Therefore dx-awr the ordi¬
nates h 2 h", BDB", C d C". Let the tangents at b and
b" meet the axis in M, and make MO, MF, each equal
to b c, and complete the parallelogram MONP, and
draw QQ perpendicular to the axis, and produce b F,
cutting the ordinates in E and e. It is plain that MN
N 2 is
ICO M E C H
Theory, js to MO as the weight of the arch HA h to the thrust
h c which it exerts on the joint KL (this thrust being
propagated through tlie course of HILK) j and that
MQ, or its equal be, or $ d, may represent the weight
of the half AH.
“ Let AD be called x, and DB be called y. Then
b c—x, and e C—y (because A c is in the direction of
the element /3 &). It is also plain, that if we make
y constant, BC is the second fluxion of x, or BC=z
x, and b e and BE may be considered as equal, and.
taken indiscriminately for x. We have also b C—
s/x2-\-y*. Let d be the depth or thickness HI of the
arch-stones. Then d s/x2-\-y2 w'ill represent the tra¬
pezium HL ; and since the circumference of each
course increases in the proportion of the radius y, dy
*Jxz -J-y* will express the whole course. Ifbe taken
to represent the sum or aggregate of the quantities an¬
nexed to it, the formula will be analogous to the fluent
of a fluxion, and j'dys/will represent the whole
mass, and also the weight of the vaulting, dowrn to the
joint HI. Therefore we have this proportion,^*d y
\/: d y xl-\-ifz=.b e \ b Y, ~b e: CG, ~S d \
dy x JXz-\-y'1
CG,=x : CG. Therefore CG
fdyjx'+tf
If the curvature of the dome be precisely such as
puts it in equilibrium, but without any mutual pressure
in the vertical joints, this value of OG must be equal to
CB, or to x, the point G coinciding with B. This condi-
. rr -
tion will be expressed by the equation ^ y x V a- -f-y  ”
But
/dysj x'+f
• ,i i d y s/a1*-}-!/* x
or, more conveniently, by —1' u — —.
J*d y \/ x*-Yy* x
this form gives only a tottering equilibrium, indepen¬
dent of the friction of the joints and the cohesion of
the cement. An equilibrium, accompanied by some
firm stability, produced by the mutual pressure of
the vertical joints, may be expressed by the formula
dy\fxt-\-y2 x , dys/cd-Yy2 x i
  — ” , or by •—   • — .
t *   J '-'i. U J m ^ . •—J— ——^
f dy Sf x*-\-y* a? J'dy>Jxt~Yy2 # t
where t is some variable positive quantity, which in¬
creases when x- increases. This last equation will also
express the equilibrated dome, if £ be a constant quan¬
tity, because in this case — is ~o.
“ Since a firm stability requires that
d y
X s/X ‘
fdysj xz-if
shall be greater than x, and CG must be greater than
CB : Hence we learn, that figures of too great cur¬
vature, whose sides descend too rapidly, are impro-
per. Also, since stability requires that wre have
A N I 0 S.
- d,x X_lk--.L greater than J^dys/we learn
that the upper part of the dome must not be made very
heavy. This, by diminishing the proportion of 6 F to
b C, diminishes the angle c b G, and may set the point
G above B, which will infallibly spring the dome in
that place. We see here also, that the algebraic ana¬
lysis expresses that peculiarity of dome-vaulting, that
the weight of the upper part may even be suppressed.
w The fluent of the equation -- 7/ ^
x
J'd y s/ x2 -f-y
is most easily found. It is L j'i y *Jx%-\-if L a: -{-.
L £, where L is the hyperbolic logarithm of the quantity
annexed to it. If wre consider y as constant, and correct
the fluent so as to make it nothing at the vertex, it may
be expressed thus, L J'rly\f xz -j-y2—Ya—IL x—Ly-f-
L t. This gives us L ibL.—L ~t, and there-
a y
fore
J a U
“ This last equation will easily give us the depth of
vaulting, or thickness d of the arch, when the curve is
given. For its fluxion is x ."W x an^
a y
d~ ;—'-jL===P-, which is all expressed in known
V V \/#2-f-y2
quantities j for we may put in place of t any power or
function of x or of y, and thus convert the expression
into another, which will still be applicable to all sorts
of curves.
x t
“ Instead of the second member —+ — we might
* *
employ , where p is some number greater than uni-
x
ty. This will evidently give a dome having stability ;
. p  
• • d 2J X X*^ ~ I 'ip
because the original formula —   will then
fdyjx2+f
be greater than x. This will give ■
yy^V xt+if
Each of these forms has its advantages when applied to
particular cases. Each of them also gives d~ -X
y ys/xPpy2
when the curvature is such as is in precise equilibrium.
And, lastly, if d be constant, that is, if the vaulting be
of uniform thickness, we obtain the lorm of the curve*,
because then the relation of x to x and to y is given.
The chief use of this analysis is to discover what
curves are improper for domes, or what portions of
given curves may be employed with safety. Domes
are
101
MECHANICS.
I’ueory. are generally built for ornament: and we see that there
—v-—“Jis great room for indulging our fancy in the choice.
All curves which are concave outwards will give domes
of great firmness : they are also beautiful. The Gothic
dome, whose outline is an undulated curve, may be
made abundantly firm, especially if the upper part be
convex and the lower concave outwards.
“ The chief difficulty in the case of this analysis
arises from the necessity of expressing the weight of
the incumbent part, This requires
the measurement of the conoidal surface, which, in
most cases, can be had only by approximation by means
of infinite serieses.
“ The surface of any circular portion of a sphere is
very easily had, being equal to the circle described
with a radius equal to the chord of half the arch. This
radius is evidently x/ X1 + /•
“ In order to discover what portion of a hemisphere
may be employed (for it is evident we cannot employ
the whole) when the thickness of the vaulting is uni¬
form, we may recur to the equation or formula
x
Let a be the ra-
« # % Cl V v
dius of the hemisphere. We have x ——■ - J ,
j CLLyx
ana x— ? 2p- Substituting these values in the
formula, we obtain the equation aZ—U'—f—~L='
J J tf—y*
We easily obtain the fluent of the second member
—a3—«%/«*—andy=c^/—£-{- VTherefore if
the radius of the sphere be i, the half breadth of the
dome must not exceed >/—f X \/I> or 0.786, and the
height will be .618. The arch from the vertex is
about 510 49'. Much more of the hemisphere can¬
not stand, even though aided by the cement, and by
the friction of the coursing joints. This last circum¬
stance, by giving connection to the upper parts, causes
the whole to press more vertically on the course be¬
low, and thus diminishes the outward thrust j but it at
the same time diminishes the mutual abutment of the
vertical joints, which is a great cause of firmness in the
vaulting. A Gothic dome, of which the upper part is
a portion of a sphere not exceeding 450 from the ver-'
tex, and the lower part is concave outwards, will be
very strong, and not ungraceful.
“ 341. Persuaded that what has been said on the sub¬
ject convinces the reader that a vaulting perfectly equi¬
librated throughout is by no means the best form, pro¬
vided that the base is secured from separating, we
think it unnecessary to give the investigation of that
form, which has a considerable intricacy, and shall
merely give its dimensions. The thickness is supposed
uniform. The numbers in the first column of the table
express the portion of the axis counted from the vertex,
and those of the second column are the length of the
'erdinates.
AD
0.4
3-4
11.4
26.6
JM
91.4
146.8
223.4
326.6
475-4
DB
100
200
300
400
500
600
700.
800
900
1000
AD
610.4
744
904
1100
*336
I C22
1738
1984
2270
2602
DB
1080
1x40
1200
1260
1320
1360
1400
1440
1480
1520
AD
2990
3442
3972
4432
4952
5336
5756
6214
6714
7260
DB
1560
1600
1640
1670
1700
1720
1740
1760
1780
1800
Theory.
“ The curve formed according to these dimensions
will not appear very graceful, because there is an
abrupt change in its curvature at a small distance from
its vertex j it, however, the middle be occupied by a
lantern of equal or of smaller weight than the part
whose place it supplies, the whole will be elegant, and
free from this defect.
“ The connexion of the parts arising from cement and
from friction has a great effect on dome-vaulting. In
the same way as in common arches and cylindrical
vaulting, it enables an overload on one place to break,
the dome in a distant place. Bwi the resistance to this
effect is much greater in dome-vaulting, because it ope¬
rates all round the overloaded part. Hence it hap¬
pens that domes are much less shattered by partial
violence, such as the falling of a bomb, or the like.
Large holes may be broken in them without much
affecting the rest; but, on the other hand, it greatly
diminishes the strength which should be derived from
the mutual pressure in the vertical joints. Friction
prevents the sliding in of the arch-stones which pro¬
duces this mutual pressure in the vex-tical joints, ex¬
cept in the very highest courses, and even there it
greatly diminishes it. These causes make a great
change in the form which gives the greatest strength ;
and as their laws of action are but very imperfectly
undei*stood as yet, it is perhaps impossible, in the pre¬
sent state of our knowledge, to determine this form
with tolerable precision. We see plainly, however,
that it allows a greater deviation from the best form
than the other kind of vaulting j and domes may be
made to rise perpendicular to the horizon at the base,
although of no great thickness j a thing which must
not be attempted in a plane arch. The immense ad¬
dition of strength which may be derived from hooping
largely compensates for all defects ; and there is hard¬
ly any bounds to the extent to which a very thin dome¬
vaulting may be carried, when it is hooped or fi-amed
in the direction of the horizontal courses. The roof
of the Halle du Bled at Paris is but a foot thick, and
its diameter is more than 200, yet it appears to have
abundant strength.”
Scholium.
342. The section of the dome of St Paul’s cathedi-al
is part of an ellipse whose conjugate diameter is pax-allel
to the horizon. It is built of wood, and confined by
strong iron chains j and is supported by carpentry rest¬
ing on a cone of brick work.,
CHAEi.
-
102
Tlieorv.
Fig. 2.
Fig- 3-
M E C H
J Chap. IX. On the Force of Torsion.
343. Definition. Let g a be a metallic wire firm¬
ly fixed in the pincers g by means of the screw s $ let
the cylindrical weight P, furnished with an index e 0,
be suspended at the lower extremity of the wire 5 and
jet the axis of the cylinder, or the wire ga produced,
terminate in the centre of the divided circle MNO.
Then, if the cylinder P is made to move round its axis
so that the index eo may describe the arch ON, the
wire g a will be twisted. If the cylinder be now left
to itself, the wire will, in consequence of its elasticity,
endeavour to recover its form 5 the index eo will there¬
fore move backwards from N, and oscillate round the
axis of the cylinder. The force which produces these
oscillations is called the /orc<? of torsion, and the angle
measured by the arch ON is called the angle of torsion.
Prop. I.
344. To deduce formulse for the oscillatory mo¬
tion of the cylinder, on the supposition that the
reaction of the force of torsion is proportional
to the angle of torsion, or nearly proportional
to it.
Let PQ be a section of the cylinder P in fig. 2.
and let all the elements of the cylinder be projected
upon this circular section in d, d', d". Let ACB, the
primitive angle of torsion, be called A, and let this
angle, after the time t, become AC h, so that it
has been diminished by the angle BC ; then
AC b—&—the angle of torsion after the time t.
Since the force of torsion is supposed to be pro¬
portional to the angle of torsion, the momentum of the
force of torsion must be some multiple of that angle,
or » X A—M, n being a constant coefficient, whose va¬
lue depends on the nature, length, and thickness of the
metallic Avire. If, therefore, AVe call v the velocity of
any point d at the end of the time t, AA'hen the angle of
torsion becomes AC b, and rrrC d the distance of the
point d from the axis of rotation C, avc shall have, by
the principles of Dynamics,
A N I C S.
Taking the square yoot of both sides of the equation, Theory
we have
£
1X A—M X t=j ti r v.
But if CD, the radius of the cylinder, be equal a,
and if u be the velocity of the point D after the time
t, avc have evidently v: u—r : a, and vz=!—. Now by
substituting the fluxion of this value of v in the place
of v in the preceding formula, we have
n x A—M x t—n •
^ a
and since t~ , avc have by substitution
u J
*/ n 2 AM—M1 = u x/*
Multiplying both sides by —and dividing by 1/ « X
f 2 AM—M*, the equation becomes
!X
whose fluent is
-—T-r flM • pd ia
n X A—M X =■ v. / ,
u a
X 2 AM—
! M
«M
/ cl /'*( x -j.*r I /"»
X?.'X/— oMx —x/^r*
^ a2 a J
fn x ^2 AM—M* \Jn x V/ 2 AM—M*
m xy"'
dr*
<fn x a/2AM—M
Therefore, since tzz. ——, avc shall have
t—
dr*
fn X ^ 2 AM—M1 ’ 01
M
t—
V2AM—M1
d r*
n
But
M
>/2 AM—M*
- represents an arch or angle whose
radius is A and whose versed sine is M, which arch
vanishes Avhen M—o, and Avhich becomes equal to 90*
Avhen M=:A. Therefore the time of a complete oscil¬
lation will be
J n
X 1800.
345. In order to compare the force of torsion with
the force of gravity in a pendulum, avc have for the time
of a complete oscillation of a pendulum whose length i?
/, g being the force of gravity,
Therefore, since the time in which the cylinder oscil¬
lates must be equal to the time in which the pendulum
oscillates, Ave have
/
r
n
X 18o°.
180°=—
S
Hence dividing by 18o°, and squaring both sides, Ave
obtain
f
>p r3
We must therefore find for a cylinder the value of
fPr*, or the sum of all the particles multiplied by the
squares of their distances from the axis. Noav, if we
make 3-1^:6.28318 the ratio of the circumference of a
circle to its radius, a~ radius of the cylinder, Arr its
length, dzz its density 5 then we shall have for the area
o2 w ,
of its base , Avhich multiplied by A gives the solid
content of the cylinder =:—i-—, and this multiplied by
2
(I gives ° for the sum of all its particles.
MECHANICS.
But
as this is to be multiplied by the sum of the squax*es
of all the distances of the particles from the centre
n a* ir* h d
C, we shall haveJp r —   . liut the number
of particles in the cylinder, or the mass ft of the cy¬
linder, is ^ A-, therefore, substituting ft, instead of
this value of it in the preceding equation, we have
j'p r1-—-, and, dividing both sides by «, we have
jP r* u a*
  —and, extracting the square root and mul¬
tiplying by 180, it becomes
p r
X i8o°:
a
2 n
X i8o°.
f^ ft
2 n
7 X 18o, and since J'-
Therefore
p r* l
~ g’
—^-=r—, and by reduction ^ ^ But g u is the
2 n g J 21
weight W of the cylinder, therefore, by substituting W
P CL2,
instead of g ft, we obtain n~—-, a very simple formu-
la for determining the value of n from experiments.
If it were required to find a weight Q, which,
acting at the extremity of a lever L, would have a mo¬
mentum equal to the momentum of the force of torsion
when the angle of torsion is A—M, we must make
Q x L=//x A—M. .
346. In the preceding investigation we have suppo¬
sed, what is conformable to experiment, that the force
of torsion is proportional to the angle of torsion, which
gives' us 11X A—M for the momentum of that force.
Let us now suppose that this momentum is altered hy
any quantity S, then the momentum of the force of tor¬
sion will become n X A—MS—S', and the general equa¬
tion will assume this form
n X A—M—S x t—u flLL.-
J a
and by multiplying in place of t its value
M
taking the fluent, we have
r/r*
‘U X 2, AM—y SM=
Now, in order to find the value ofi T or a complete
oscillation, we must divide the oscillation into two
parts, the first from B to A, where the force of torsion
accelerates the velocity u, while the retarding force,
arising from the resistance of the air and the imper¬
fection of elasticity, diminishes the velocity u ; and the
second from A to B', where the force of torsion, as well
as the other forces, concur in diminishing u or retarding
the motion.
347. Ex. 1. If X A—Mb we shall have for
the state of motion in the first portion BA
*xlAM.ZM5+-2”xi:-Si|,+‘ SmA’+‘
»-l-i v-j-i ~ a*
Hence, when the angle of torsion becomes equal to no¬
thing, or A—M=o, we have
n A*—
2 m
Av+I
» + i
• • • V T*
which dividing byj- becomes
2 m Av-I-1
" + 1
=^/¥.
71 A*
U1--
rpr'
J ax
Let us now consider the other part of the motion from
A to B', and suppose the angle AC ^'rrM', we shall
find, by calling U the velocity of the point A,
m M,v+I
M'*
U2—
,p r
2 y + I 2
Then, by substituting instead of U its value as lately
found, and taking the fluents, we shall have, when the
velocity vanishes, or when the oscillation is finished,
, A>+I + M'^1
A—M7:
2 m
X
and
A-f-M' ’
and if the retarding forces are such, that at each oscilla¬
tion, the amplitude is a little diminished, we shall have
for the approximate value of A—M'
2 m A v
A—M'= ==,
and if the angle A—-M7 is so small that it may be
treated as a common fluxional quantity, we shall then
have for any number of oscillations
2 m 1 , 1 r
Nx —= = — X ,
WXV + I y—1 M"*”1 A17-1
where M represents the angle to which A becomes
equal after any number of oscillations N. Hence wre
obtain
1
M=
(nx
2mX v+i
1 \ * 1
V—I J I
«X*+i
which determines the value of M after any number of
oscillations N.  
348. Ex. 2. If §—m X A—M^+m' X A—M|>'/, nP
and v' being diflerent values of m and v, we shall obtain
by following the mode of investigation in the last ex¬
ample,
«X A-
^ 2 m Av+I-fMv+I
-M=-r—x
,+ 1
A+M
2 m’ Av'+ixM-'"+1
X
v' + l
A+M
and if the retarding force is much less than the force of torsion, we shall have for an approximate vaiue ot
?i x A—M
M E C H A N I C S.
V x A—iM:
2mXv 2 m* A*
: + v+r
' + 1
349- Kv‘ 3
X A—IVI|V'+?«" X A
In general, ii;' S=^xA—Mj*1-fm'
‘ ■M1V" -f w'" x I3ZM1*7/, &c,
we shall always have for an oscillation when S xs smaller
than the force of torsion.
, r rr 2mA* 2m'A' 2yyi" A' , 2m'" A"’ „
^ + 1 »'+I
'+I
'+1
3 50. Having thus given after Coulomb, the mode of
deducing formulee for the oscillatory motion of the cy¬
linder, we shall proceed to give an account of the results
. of his expei-iments.
balance I'1 these experiments M. Coulomb employed the torsion
Fig. 7.. ‘ balance represented in fig. 2. in which he suspended
cylinders of different weights from iron and brass wires
of different lengths and thicknesses 5 and by-obseiwing
carefully the duration of a cexlain number of oscillations,
he was enabled to determine, by means of the preceding
formulae, the laws of the force of torsion relative to the
length, the thickness, and the nature of the wires em¬
ployed. If the elasticity of the metallic wires had been
perfect, and if the air opposed no resistance to the os¬
cillating cylinder*, it would continue to oscillate till its
motion was stopped. The diminution of the ampli¬
tudes of the oscillations, therefore, being px*oduced sole¬
ly by the imperfection of elasticity, and by the resist¬
ance of the aix*, M. Coulomb was enabled, by observing
the successive diminution of the amplitude of the oscil¬
lation, and by substracting the part of the change which
was due to tbe resistance of the aii*, to ascertain, with
the assistance of the preceding formulae, according to
what laws this elastic force of torsion rvas changed.
351. Fi-om a great numberof experiments it appeared,
that when the angle of torsion was not very great, the
oscillations were sensibly isochronous ;, and therefore it
may be regarded as a fundamental larv, That for all
metallic wires, when the angles of torsion are not very
great, the force of torsion is sensibly proportional to the
angle of torsion. . Hence, as the preceding formulae are
founded on this supposition, they may be safely applied
to the experiments.
352. In all the experiments, a cylinder of two pounds
weight oscillated in twice the time employed by a cy¬
linder which weighed only half a pound j and there¬
fore the duration of the oscillations is as the square root
of the weights of the oscillating cylinders. Consequently
the tension of the wires has no sensible influence upon
the force of torsion. If the tensions however be
very great relative to the strength of the metal, the
force of torsion does suffer a change ; for when the
weight of the cylinder, and consequently the tension of
the wire, is increased, the wire is lengthened, and as this
diminishes the diameter of the wire, tbe duration of the
oscillation must evidently be affected.
353. When the lengths of the wires are varied with¬
out changing their diameters or the weights of the cylin¬
ders, the times of the same numberof oscillations are as
3
the square roots of the lengths of the wires, a result al¬
so deducible from theory. '
354. When the diameters of the wires are varied
without changing their lengths, or the weight of the
cylinder's, the momentum ox the force of torsion varied
as the fourth power of the diameters of the wires. Now
this result is perfectly conformable to theory; for if
wc suppose tvro wires of the same substance, and of
the same length, but having their diameters as one to
two, it is obvious that in the rvire whose diameter is
double of the other, there are four times as many parts
extended by torsion, as in the smaller wire, and that the
mean extension of all these parts will be proportional
to the diameter of a wire, the same as the mean arm of
a lever is, relative to the axis of rotation. Hence it ap¬
pears that, according to theory, the force of torsion of
two wires of the same nature and of tbe same length, but
of different diameters, is proportional to the fourth power
of their diameter*.
355. From this it follows in general, that in metallic
wires the momentum of toi’sion is dii’ectly in the com¬
pound ratio of the angle of torsion and the fourth
power of their diameter, and inversely as the length of
the wires. If a therefore he the angle of torsion, 2cthe
length of the thread, a its diameter, and F the force of
torsion, we shall have
F=
m a o4
Theory,
where m is a constant coefficient for wires of the same
metal, depending on the tenacity of the metal, and de¬
ducible from experiment.
336. When the angle of toi*sion is not great, relative
to the length of the wire, the index of the cylinder re¬
turns to the position which it had before the torsion
took place, or,, in other words, the wire untwists itself
by the same quantity by which it had been twisted. But
when the angle of torsion is very great, the wire does
not completely untwist itself, and therefore the centre
of torsion will have advanced by a quantity equal to
that which it has not untwisted.—When the angle of
torsion was below 450, the decrements of the ampli¬
tudes of the oscillations were nearly proportional to the
amplitudes of the angle of torsion ; but when the angle
exceeded 450, the decrements increased in a much
greater ratio.—The centre of torsion did not begin
to advance or be displaced till the angle of torsion was
nearly a semicircle : it displacement was very irregular
till tlxe angle was one circle and 10 degrees, but be¬
yond this angle the torsion remained nearly the same for
all angles.
357. The theory of torsion is particularly useful in
delicate researches, where small forces are to he ascer¬
tained with a precision which cannot be obtained by
ordinary means. It has been successfully employed by
Coulomb in discovering the laws of the forces of
electricity and magnetism, and in determining the
resistance of fluids when the velocities are very
small.
PART
MECHANICS,
K •aetical
] - chanics.
TART II. ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF MACHINERY.
358. WE have already seen, when considering the
maximum efl’ects of machines, the various causes which
affect their performance. It appeared from that inves¬
tigation, that there must be a certain relation between
the velocities of the impelled and working points of a
machine, or between the power and the resistance to
be overcome, before it can produce a maximum effect,
and therefore it must be the first object of the engineer
to ascertain that velocity, and to employ it in the con¬
struction of this machine. The performance of the ma¬
chine is also influenced by the friction and inertia of its
various parts *, and as both these act as resistances, and
therefore destroy a considerable portion of the impel¬
ling power, it becomes an object of great importance to
attend to the simplification of the machinery, and to as¬
certain the nature of friction so as to diminish its ef¬
fect, either by the application of unguents or by mecha¬
nical contrivances. Since the impelled and Svorking
points of a machine are generally connected by means
of toothed wheels, the teeth must be formed in such a
manner, that the wheels may always act upon each
other with the same force, otherwise the velocity of the
machine will he variable, and its structure soon injured
by the irregularity of its motion. The irregular mo¬
tion of machines sometimes arises from the nature of
the machinery, from an inequality in the resistance
to be overcome, and from the nature of the impelling
power. In large machines, the momenta of their parts
are generally sufficient to equalize these irregularities j
but in machines of a small size, and in those where the
irregularities are considei’able, we must employ fly¬
wheels for regulating and rendering uniform their vari¬
able movements. These various subjects, and others
intimately connected with them, we shall now proceed
to discuss in their order.
Chap. I. On the Proportion between the Velocity of the
Impelled and Working points of Machines, and be¬
tween the Power and Resistance, in order that they
may perform the greatest work.
359. In the chapter on the maximum effect of ma¬
chines we have deduced formulae containing x and y, the
velocities of the impelled and working points of the ma¬
chines, and including every circumstance which can af¬
fect their motion. The formula which exhibits the value
ofy, or the velocity of the working point, assumes various
forms, according as we neglect one or more of the ele¬
ments of which it is composed.—When the work to be
performed resists only by its inertia, which is the case in
urging round a millstone or heavy fly, the quantity R
may be neglected, and the second formula, (Page 92.
col. 2.) should be employed. In small machines, and
particularly in those where the motion is conveyed by
wheels with epicycloidal teeth, the friction is very
trifling, and the element <p may be safely omitted. In
corn and saw mills, the quantity b or the inertia of the
resistance may be left out of the formula, as the mo¬
tion communicated to the flour or to the saw dust is
too small to be subjected to computation. In ma-
Vol. XIII. Part I. t
chines where one heavy body is employed to raise an¬
other merely by its weight, the inertia of the power
and the resistance, viz. a, b, are proportional to P, R,
the powers and resistances themselves, and consequently
P, R may be substituted in the formula, in the place of
a, b.—The engineer therefore must consider, before he
construct his machine, what elements should enter into
the formula, and what should be omitted, in order that
he may adapt it to the circumstances of the case, and
obtain from his machine the greatest possible effect.
360. When the inertia of the power and that of the re¬
sistance are proportional to the power andresistance them¬
selves; and when the inertia and friction of the machine
/P
may be omitted, the formula becomes y— — _|_i
from which the following table is computed, which
contains the values of y for different values of P; R
being supposed mo, and in-=z\.
Table containing the best Proportions between the Ve¬
locities of the Impelled and Working Points of a Ma¬
chine, or between the Levers by which the Power
and Resistance act.
To find the
relation be¬
tween the
velocities of
the impel¬
led and
working-
points of
a machine.
Proportional
value of the
impelling
power, or P.
Value of the ve¬
locities of the
working point or
y ■ or of the lever
by which the re¬
sistance acts, that
of x being one.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
J4
*5
16
17
18
0.048809
0>G95445
0.140175
0.183216
0.224745
0.264911
0.30384!
0.341641
0.378405
0.414214
0.449138
0.483240
o-Sl6SlS
°-549I93
o-58ii39
0.612451
0.643168
0.673323
0.702938
Proportional
value of the
impelling
power, or P.
Value of the ve¬
locities of the
working point or
y; or of the lever
by which the re¬
sistance acts, that
of x being 1.
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
3°
40
50
60
70
80
90
100
0.732051
0.760682
0.788854
c.816590
0.843900
0.870800
0.897300
Q.923500
0.949400
0.974800
1.000000
1.236200
1.449500
1.645700
1.828400
2.000000
2.162300
2.316600
In order to explain the use of this table, let us sup¬
pose that it is required to raise one cubic foot of water
in a second, by means of a stream which discharges
three cubic feet of water in a second; and let it be re¬
quired to find the construction of a wheel and axle for
performing this work ; that is, the diameter of the axle,
that of the wheel being 6. Here the power is evident¬
ly 3 cubic feet, while the resistance is only one cubic
foot, therefore P=3 R ; but in the preceding table
O Rmo.
io6
M E C H
Practical K~ ic, consequently Pr=3 X I0=r30. But It appears from
Mechanics, the table that when P—30,^ or the diameter of the axle
■ - ^ 1^ upon the supposition that the diameters of the wheel
is 1 j but as x must be —6, we shall have y=6.
361. Instead of using the preceding table, we might
find the best proportion between x and y by a kind of
P#Ry—By
tentative process, from the formula ■
which
A N I C S.
expresses the work performed. This method is indeed
tedious j and we mention it only for the sake of showing Mechanics
the conformity of the x-esults, and of proving that there ' v—
is a certain proportion between x and y which gives a
maximum effect. Let .r=6, as in the preceding para¬
graph, and let us suppose y to be successively 5, 6, ami
7, in order to see which of these values is the best.
Since P=3, and It—I, and .r=:6, wre have
When
When y~&
When y=7
P*Ry—By _ 3 x6X 1 X 5 —1 ^5XJ_   
* Px^+Ry* _ 3X6x6 + iX5X5 I33
PxRy—R2y*_ 3X6xix6—1x6x6__72_—0 ?00
Px* + Ryx “ 3x6x6+ 1x6x6 144 '5
p^ By—R»y» _ 3 x 6 x I X 7—1 x 7 x 7 _ 77 ,Q04:
PxI+Ry1 “ 3X6x6 + ! X7X7 l51
It appears therefox*e that when y—5, 6, 7, the work per¬
formed is 0.488 5 0.5000 ; 0.49045 y so that the effect
is a maximum wlxen y—6, a x’esult similar to what was
obtained from the table.
To find the 3^2, When the machine is already constructed, x
best proper-and y cannot be varied so as to obtain a maximum ef-
tion be- feet. The same object however will be gained by pro-
tween the perly adjusting the powrer to the work when the wrOrk
tbe'resist^ cannot altered, or the work to the power when the
ance. power is determinate. The formulae in Prop. 2. Chap. 7.
exhibit the values of R under many circumstances, and
it depends on the judgment of the engineer to select
such of them as are adapted to all the conditions of the
case.
363. The following table is founded on the formula
which answers to the case where the
inertia of the impelling power is the same with its pres¬
sure, and where the inertia and the friction of the ma¬
chine may be safely neglected. The second column
contains the different values of R corresponding to the
values of y in the first column. The numbers in the
third column shew the ratio of y to R, or they have the
same proportion to 1, which R has to the resistance
which will balance P. In the table it is supposed that
Pm and xzz 1.
Table containing the best proportions between the Power and the Resistance, the inertia of the impelling power
being the same with its pressure, and the friction and inei'tia of the Machine being omitted.
Values of y,
or the velo¬
city of the
working
point; x being
equal to 1.
X
T
1
2
1
2
3
4
5
6
Values of It,
or the resist¬
ance to be
overcome, P
being ~ 1.
I.8885
I.3928
O.8986
O.4142
O.183O
O.IIII
O.0772
O.O580
O.O457
Ratio of R to
the resistance
which would
balance P.
O.4724 to I
0.4639 
0.4493  
O.4142 
0.3660 
°-3333  
0.3088 
0.2900 
0.2742   
Values of y,
or the velo¬
city of the
working
point; x being
equal to 1.
7
8
9
10
11
12
*3
*4
J5
Values of R,
or the resist¬
ance to be
overcome, P
being — r.
°-0373I
O.03125
0.02669
O.02317
0.02037
0.01809
0.01622
O.OI466
0-01333
Ratio of R to
the resistance
which would
balance P.
0.26117 to I
O.250OO 
O.2402I  
O.23170 
O.22407 
0.21708 
0.21086 
O.20524 
°-1999S 
364. To exemplify the use of the preceding table,
let us suppose that wre are to raise water by means of a
simple pulley and bucket, with a powrer 10, and
that it is required to find the resistance R, or the quan¬
tity of water which must be put into the bucket, in or¬
der that the work performed may be a maximum. In
the simple pulley, x, y, the arms of the vertical le¬
vers or the velocities of the impelled and working
points are equal y and since x is supposed in the table to
he =r 1, we have y — 1, which corresponds in the table
writh 0.4142, the value of R, P being ~ I in the
table: But in the present case P= 10. Therefore,
10 : 1 = 0.4142 : 4.142, the value of R when P=io.
365. rIhe same x-esult might be obtained in a more
circuitous method bv means of the formula——— ■■ ,
Px’ + Ry* ’
which expresses the performance of the machine. Thus,
let x~i y j P=io, and let us suppose R succes¬
sively equal to 3 ; 4 ; 4.142 ; 5 j so that we may de-
termine which of these values gives the greatest per¬
formance.
When
M E C H A N I C S.
^ ' icticul
]\] hanics.
i O ^ 2 2 X
When R—5,ihe preceding formula becomes   —   =i.6iC4.
10+3 J3
£4
r4
When R=4, the formula becomes AAd—
io-(-4 I4 ' J
When R—4.142, the formula becomesi?-*!-!!2 4-,14^ ^24^263?4_^
10 + 4.142 14.142 '
When Rrrj, the formula becomes
+ 4-I4-
l^<i=iXJ=2i=K6666_
10+5
Hence it appears, that u’hen R=3 5 4; 4.142-, 5; the work performed is respectively =z 1.61545 1.7143 ;
1.7157 5 1.6666 5 so that the work performed is a maximum when R is =4.142, the same result which was ob¬
tained from the table.
Chap. II. 0/z the Simplification of Machinery.
366. As the inertia of every machine adds greatly
to the resistance to be overcome, and as the friction of
the communicating parts is proportional to the pressure,
it becomes a matter of great practical importance, that
the different parts of a machine should be proportioned
to the strains to which they are exposed. If the beam
of a steam-engine, for example, is larger than what is
necessary, an immense portion of the impelling power
must be destroyed at every stroke of the piston, by drag¬
ging the superfluous mass from a state of rest into mo¬
tion 5 the pressure upon the gudgeons will also be in-
cx-eased, and their friction in their sockets pi-oportional-
ly enlarged. The engincei', therefore, should be well
acquainted with the strength of the materials of which
the machine is to be constructed, and should frame its
different parts in such a manner that they may not be
heavier than what is necessary for resisting the forces
with which they are urged.—When the motions of the
machine are necessarily irregular, and when the ma¬
chine may be exposed to accidental strains, the parts
must be made considerably stronger than what is ne¬
cessary for resisting its ordinary strains 5 but it is not
often that such a precaution should be observed. The
gudgeons of water-wheels, and of the beams of steam-
engines, ought to be made as short and small as possi¬
ble, as the friction increases with the rubbing surfaces.
This is very seldom attended to in the construction of
water-wheels. The diameter of the gudgeons is fre¬
quently thrice as large as what is necessary for support¬
ing the wTeight of the wheel.
367. In the construction of machinery 'we must not
only attend to the simplification of the parts, but
also to the number of these parts, and the mode of con¬
necting them. From the natiu-e- and quantity of the
work to be performed, it is eaSy to ascertain the velo¬
city of the working point which is most proper for per-
forming it. Now this velocity may be procured in a
variety of ways, either by a perplexing multiplicity of
wheels, or by more simple combinations. T he choice
of these combinations must be left solely to the judge¬
ment of the engineer, as no general rules can be laid
down to dix-ect him. It may be useful, however, to
remark, that the power should alxvays be applied as
near as possible to the working point of the machine,
and that when one wheel di-ives another, the diameter
of the one should never be great, when the diameter of
'-'be other is very small. The size of wheels is often
determined from the strains to which they are exposed.
If, for example, wre are obliged to give a certain velo¬
city to an axle by means of a wheel with 120 teeth,
and if the force with which this wheel is urged, re¬
quires the teeth to be at least one inch thick in order to
prevent them from breaking, we shall be obliged to
make its diameter at least seven feet 5 for supposing tbe
spaces between the teeth to be equal to the thickness of
tbe teeth, the circumference of the wheel must at least
be equal to 1204-120=240 inches, the sum of the
teeth and their intervals, which gives a diameter of six
feet eight inches. There are some cases where our
choice of combination must be directed by the nature of
tbe machinery". If the work to be performed is a load
raised with a certain velocity by means of a rope wind^
ing round a hollow drum, and if tha simplest combina¬
tion of mechanical powers for producing this velocity
should give a small diameter to the drum, then this com¬
bination must give way to another which cori-csponds
with a lax-ger size of the drum, for, on account of the
inflexibility of the ropes, a great portion of the impel¬
ling power wrould be wrasted in winding them about the
circumference of a small drum.
368. The advantages of simplifying machinery are Description
well exemplified in the following capstane, which unites^11 power-
great strength and simplicity. It is represented in fig.
4. where A3) is a compound barrel composed of two cy- plate
linders of different radii. The rope DEC is fixed atCCCXXIII.
the extremity of the cylinder D : and after passing over %■ 4-
the pulley E, which is attached to the load by means
of the hook F, it is coiled round the other cylinder D,
and fixed at its upper end. The capstane bar AB
urges the compound barrel CD about its axis, so that
while the rope coils round the cylinder D it unwinds it¬
self from the cylinder C. Let us suppose that the dia¬
meter of the part D of the barrel is 21 inches, while
the diameter of the part C is only 20 inches, and let
the pulley E be 20 inches in diameter. When the
barrel AI), therefore, has performed one complete revo¬
lution by the pressux-e exei’ted at B, 63 inches of rope,
equal to the circumference of the cylinder, will be ga¬
thered upon the cylinder D, and 60 inches will be un¬
winded from the cylinder C. The quantity of wound
rope, therefore, exceeds the quantity that is unwound
by 63 60=3 inches, the difference of their respective
perimeters 5 and the half of this quantity, or l-J inches,
will be the space through which the load or pulley
E moves by one turn of the bar. If a simple capstane
of the same dimensions had been employed, the length
of rope coiled round the barrel ,would have been 60
O 2 inchesj
MECHANICS.
Compound
double ma¬
chine on
the same
principle.
y'g- 5-
inches ; and the space described by the pulley, or load
to be overcome, would have been 30. inches. Now, as
the power is to the weight as the velocity of the weight
is to the velocity of the power, and as the velocity of
the power is the same in both capstanes, the weights
which they will raise wdll be as if to 30. If it is wish¬
ed to double the power of the machine, we have only
to cover the cylinder C with lathes a quarter of an
inch thick, so that the difference between the radii of
each cylinder may be half as little as before j for it is
obvious that the power of the capstane increases as the
difference between the radii of the cylinders is diminish¬
ed. As we increase the power, therefore, we increase
the strength of our machine, while all other engines
are proportiouably enfeebled by an augmentation of
power. Were ivc for example to increase the power of
the common capstane, we must diminish the barrel in
the same proportion, supposing the bar AB not to ad¬
mit of being lengthened, which will not only diminish
its strength, but destroy much of its power by the ad¬
ditional flexure of the rope.—This capstane may be
easily converted into a crane, by giving the compound
barrel a horizontal position, and substituting a winch
instead of the bar AB. The superiority of such a
crane above the common ones does not require to be
pointed out ; but it has this additional advantage, that
it allows the weight to stop at any part of its progress,
without the aid of a ratchet wheel and catch, because
the two parts of the rope pull on the contrary sides of
the barrel. The rope indeed which coils round the
larger part of the barrel acts with a larger lever, and
consequently with greater force than the other ; but as
this excess of force is not sufficient to overcome the
friction of the machine, the weight will remain sta¬
tionary in any part of its path. {Appendix to Fergu¬
son"1?, Lectures, vol. ii.).
369. The principle on which the preceding capstane
is constructed, might be applied with great advantage
when two separate axles AC, BD are driven by means
of the winch H and the wheels B and A. It; is evi¬
dent that when the winch is turned round in one di¬
rection, the rope II is unwinded from the axle BD j
the wheel B drives the wheel A, so that the axle AC
moves in a direction opposite to that of BD, and the
rope is coiled round the axle AC. If the wheels A, B
are of the same diameter and the same number of teeth,
the weight W Avill he stationary, as the rope winded
about one axle will be always equal to what is unwind¬
ed from the other. If the wheels have different diame¬
ters, or dift’erent numbers of teeth, the quantity of rope
wound round the one axle will exceed what is un¬
wound from the other, and the weight will be
raised.
Chap. III. On the Nature of Friction and the Method
of diminishing its effects in Machinery ; and on the
Rigidity of Ropes.
370. The friction generated in the communicating
parts of machinery, opposes such a resistance to the im¬
pelling power, and is so injurious to the machine itself,
that an acquaintance with the nature and effects of this
retarding force, and with the method of diminishing its
effects on machinery, is of infinite importance to the
practical mechanic.
3
371. The subject of friction has been examined at Practical
great length by Amontons, Bulfinger, Parent, Euler, Mechanics,
and Bossut, and has lately occupied the attention ol -
our ingenious countryman Mr \ ince of Cambridge.
He found that the friction of hard bodies in mo- Result of
tion is an uniformly retarding force, and that the Vince's ex-
quantity of friction considered as equivalent to a weight Perimenh
. ,rM+WxS
drawing the body backwards is equal to JM — ,
<s f
where M is the moving force expressed by its weight,
W the weight of the body upon the horizontal plane,
S the space through which the moving force or weight
descended in the time t, and 16.087 feet, the force
of gravity. Mr Vince also found that the quantity of
friction increases in a less ratio than the quantity of
matter or weight of the body, and that the friction of
a body does not continue the same when it has dif¬
ferent surfaces applied to the plane on which it
moves, but that the smallest surfaces will have the
least friction.
372. Notwithstanding the attempts of preceding
philosophers to unfold the nature of friction, it was
reserved for the celebrated Coulomb to surmount the Experi-
difficulties which are inseparable from such an in- 'nen)ts
vestigation, and to give an accurate and satisfactory ou 0111 )-
view of this difficult branch of mechanical philoso¬
phy. By employing large bodies and conducting his
experiments on a large scale, he has corrected several
errors which arose from the limited experiments of
others j he has brought to light many new and strik¬
ing phenomena, and confirmed others which were hi¬
therto but partially established. As it would be foreign
to the nature of this work to follow this ingenious phi¬
losopher through his numerous and varied experiments,
we shall only present the reader with the interesting re¬
sults to which they led.
1. The friction of homogeneous bodies, or bodies of
the same kind, moving upon one another, is generally
supposed to be greater than that of heterogeneous bo¬
dies ; but Coulomb has shewn that there are exceptions
to this rule. He found, for example, that the friction
of oak upon oak was equal to — - - of the force of pres-
sion } the friction of pine against pine  and that
of oak against pine
copper was
5-5
1.78’
The friction of oak against
and that of oak against iron nearly
the same.
2. It was generally supposed, that in the case of
wood, the friction is greatest when the bodies are drag¬
ged contrary to the course of their fibres ; but Coulomb
has shewn that the friction is in this case sometimes
the smallest. When the bodies moved in the direction
of their fibi’es, the friction was  of the force with
2.34
which they were pressed together j but when the mo¬
tion was contrary to the courses of the fibres, the fric-
, 1
tion was oniy 7-.
3-76
3. The longer the rubbing surfaces remain in contact, ,
the uneaten is their friction.-—SThva wood was moved
upon .
MECHANICS.
g ,ictjea{ upon wood, according to the direction of the fibres, the
j 'hanics. friction was increased by keeping the surfaces in con-
t. -v-—' tact for a few seconds ; and when the time was prolong¬
ed to a minute, the friction seemed to have reached its
farthest limit. But when the motion was contrary to
the course of the fibres, a greater time was necessary be¬
fore the friction arrived at its maximum. When wood
was moved upon metal, the friction did not attain its
maximum till the surfaces continued in contact for five
or six days } and it is very remarkable, that when
wooden surfaces were anointed with tallow, the time
requisite for producing the greatest quantity of friction
is increased. The increase of friction which is gene¬
rated by prolonging the time of contact is so great,
that a body weighing 1650 pounds was moved with a
force of 64 pounds when first laid upon its correspond¬
ing surface. After having remained in contact for the
space of three seconds, it required 160 pounds to put it
in motion ; and, when the time was prolonged to fix
days, it could scarcely be moved with a force of 622
pounds. When the surfaces of metallic bodies were
moved upon one another, the time of producing a maxi¬
mum of friction was not changed by the interposition
of olive oil 5 it was increased, however, by employing
swine’s grease as an unguent, and was prolonged to five
or six days by besmearing the surfaces with tallow.
4. Friction is in general proportional to the force with
which the rubbing surfaces are pressed together ; and ts,
for the most part, equal to between f and f of that force.
'—In order to prove the first part of this proposition.
Coulomb employed a large piece of wood, whose sur¬
face contained three square feet, and loaded it succes¬
sively with 74 pounds, 874 pounds, and 2474 pounds.
In these cases the friction was successively ——y,
2.46 2.16
IO9
faces were very small in respect to the force with which Practical
they were pressed, the friction teas diminished by aug- Mechanics.
mentiri’f the rapidity : the friction, on the contrary, was v
increased when the surfaces were very large when com¬
pared with the force of pression. When the wood was
moved contrary to the direction of its fibres, the fric¬
tion in every case remained the same. If wood be
moved upon metals, the friction is greatly increased by
an increase of velocity ; and when metals move upon
wmod besmeared with tallow", the friction is still aug¬
mented by adding to the velocity. When metals move
upon metals, the friction is always a constant quantity 5
but when heterogeneous substances are employed which
are not bedaubed with tallow, the friction is so increa¬
sed with the velocity, as to form an arithmetical pro¬
gression when the velocities form a geometrical one.
7. The friction of loaded cylinders rolling upon a ho¬
rizontal plane, is in the direct ratio of their weights, and.
the inverse ratio of their diameters. In Coulomb’s ex¬
periments, the friction of cylinders of guaiacum wood,
which were tw o inches in diameter, and were loaded with
1000 pounds, was 18 pounds or of the force of pres-
sion. In cylinders of elm, the friction was greater by f ,
and was scarcely diminished by the interposition of tallow.
373. From a variety of experiments on the friction
of the axes of pulleys, Coulomb obtained the following
results.—When an iron axle moved in a brass bush
the friction was £ of the pression ; but when the bush
was besmeared with very clean tallow, the friction was
only T*x; when swine’s grease was interposed, the fric¬
tion amounted to A- ; and when olive oil was employ-
8-5
ed as an unguent, the friction was never less than
or A— When the axis was of green oak, and the bush
7-5
2.21
. . „ « . j , , r j of guaiacum wood, the friction was ^ when tallow
of the force of pression; and when a less surface and 8. . , ,„|1P„ ,l,e follow was removed, so
other weights were used, the friction was , 2~-,
—^—. Similar results wTere obtained in all Coulomb’s
2.40
experiments, even when metallic surfaces were employ¬
ed. The second part of the proposition has also been
established by Coulomb. He found that the greatest
friction is engendered when oak moves upon pine, and
that it amounts to 5- of the force of pression j on
1.78
the contrary, when iron moves upon brass, the least
friction is produced, and it amounts to -J of the force of
pression. ,
5. Friction is in general not increased by augmenting
the rubbing surfaces.—When a superficies of three
feet square was employed, the friction, with dillerent
weights, was —— at a medium j but when a small
£.28
surface was used, the friction instead of being greater, as
might have been expected, was only fffff
■ ktion di- 6. Friction for the most part is not augmented by an
! 1‘sllc^ increase of velocity. In some cases, it is diminished by
j theTe an QUgwtcntation of celerity.—M. Coulomb found, that
1 ity. when wood moved upon wood in the direction of the
fibres, the friction was a constant quantity, however
much the velocity was varied j but that when the sur¬
was interposed ; but when the tallow was removed, so
that a small quantity only covered the surface, the fric¬
tion was increased to TV When the bush w'as made
of elm, the friction was in similar circumstances and
•/o, which is the least of all. If the axis be made of
box, and the bush of guaiacum wood, the friction will
be and Tlx, circumstances being the same as before.
If the axle be of boxwmod, and the bush of elm, the
friction will be and ; and if the axle be of iron
and the bush of elm, the friction will be of the force
of pression.
374. Having thus considered the nature and effects of Method of
friction, we shall now attend to the method of lessening
the resistance which it opposes to the motion of ma- 0j- fQCtion>
chines. The most efficacious mode of accomplishing
this is to convert that species of friction which arises
from one body being dragged over another, into that
which is occasioned by one body rolling upon another.
As this will always diminish the resistance, it may be
easily effected by applying wheels or rollers to the soc¬
kets or bushes which sustain the gudgeons of large
wheels, and the axles of wheel carriages. Casatus
seems to have been the first who recommended this ap-
paratus. It was afterwards mentioned by Sturmius and ration
Wolfius j but was not used in practice till Sully applied
it to clocks in the year 17x6, and Mondran to cranes
in 1725. Notwithstanding these solitary attempts to
introduce friction w'heels, they seem to have attract¬
ed little notice till the celebrated Euler examined
and
Friction
may be di
pelling
power.
no M E C H
Practical and explained, with his usual accuracy, their nature and
Mechanics, advantages. The diameter of the gudgeons and pivots
should be made as small as the weight of the wheel and
the impelling force will permit. The gudgeons should
rest upon wheels as large as circumstances will allow,
having their axes as near each other as possible, but uo
thicker than what is absolutely necessary to sustain the
superincumbent weight. When these precautions are
properly attended to, the resistance which arises from the
friction of the gudgeon, &c. will be extremely trilling.
375* The ellects of friction may likewise in some
ini bed b measure rcmoved by a judicious application of the
aiudidoJ impelling power, and by proportioning the size of the
application friction wheels to the pressure which they severally sus-
of the im- tain. If we suppose, for example, that the weight of a
wheel, whose iron gudgeons move in bushes of brass, is
loo pounds j then the friction arising from both its
gudgeons will be equivalent to 25 pounds. If we sup¬
pose, also, that a force equal to qoqtounds is emploved
to impel the wheel, and acts in the direction of gravi¬
ty, as in the cases of overshot wheels, the pressure of
the gudgeons upon their supports will then be 140
pounds and the friction 35 pounds. But if the foree
of 40 pounds could be applied in such a manner as to
act in direct opposition to the wheel’s weight, the pres¬
sure of the gudgeons upon their supports would be
100—40, or 60 pounds, and the friction only 15
pounds. It is impossible, indeed, to make the moving
force act in direct opposition to the gravity of the
wheel, in the case of water mills j and it is often im¬
practicable for the engineer to apply the impelling
power but in a given way : but there are many cases
iu which the moving force may be so exerted, as at
least not to increase the friction which arises from the
wheel’s weight.
376. When the moving force is not exerted in a per¬
pendicular direction, but obliquely as in undershot wheels,
the gudgeon will press with greater force on one part of
the socket than on any other part. This point will evi¬
dently be on the side of the bush opposite to that where
the power is applied 5 and its distance from the low-est
point of the socket, which is supposed circular and con¬
centric with the gudgeon, being called x, we shall have
Fang. x~ ry, that is, the tangent of the arch con¬
tained between the point of greatest pressure and the
lowest part of the bush, is equal to the sum of all the
horizontal forces, divided by the sum of all the vertical
forces and the weight of the wheel, H representing the
former, and V the latter quantities. The point of
greatest pressure being thus determined, the gudgeon
must be supported at that part by the largest friction
wheel, in order to equalize the friction upon their axles.
I he application of these general principles to parti¬
cular cases is so simple as not to require any illustration.
To aid the conceptions, however, of the practical me¬
chanic, we may mention two cases in which friction
wheels have been successfully employed,
rexxm 377* Gottlieb, the constructor of a new crane,
' has received a Patent for what he calls an anti-attrition
axle-tree, the beneficial effects of which he has ascer¬
tained by a variety of trials. It consists of a steel roller
II about four or six inches long, which turns within a
groove cut in the inferior part of the axle-tree C which
?uns iu the nave AB of the wheel. When the wheel-
x
Plate
A N I C S. '
carriages are at rest, Mr Gottlieb has given the friction Practical
wheel its proper position $ but it is evident that the Mechanics,
point of greatest pressure will change when they are
put in motion, and will be nearer the front ot the car¬
riage. This point, however, will vary with the weight
of the load •, but it is sufficiently obvious that the fric¬
tion roller should be at a little distance from the lowest
point of the axle-tree.
378. Mr Garnett of Bristol has applied friction rollers
in a different manner, which does not, like the prece¬
ding method, weaken the axle-tree. Instead of fixing
them in the iron part of the axle, he leaves a space be¬
tween the nave and the axis to he filled with equal rol¬
lers almost touching each other. A section of this Fig. 7.
apparatus is represented in fig. 7. where ABCD is the
metallic ring inserted in the nave of the wheel. The
axle-tree is represented at E, placed between the fric-
tiorrrollers I, I, I, made of metal, and having their axes
inserted into a circle of brass which passes through their
centres. The circles are rivetted together by means of
bolts passing between the rollers, in order to keep them
separate and parallel.
379. As it appears from the experiments of Coulomb,
that the least friction is generated when polished iron
moves upon brass, the gudgeons and juvots of wheels,
and the axles of friction rollers, should all be made of
polished iron; and the bushes in which these gudgeons
move, and the friction wheels, should be formed of po¬
lished brass.
380. When every mechanical contrivance has been Frictiondi-
adopted for diminishing the obstruction which arises '^bushedby
from the attrition of the communicating parts, it may unS'ients'
be still farther removed by the judicious application of
unguents. The most proper for this purpose are swine’s
grease and tallow when the surfaces arc made of wood,
and oil when they are of metal. When the force with
which the surfaces are pressed together is very great,
tallow will diminish the friction more than swine’s
grease. W hen the wooden surfaces are very small, un¬
guents will lessen their friction a little, but it will be
greatly diminished if wood moves upon metal greased
with tallow. If the velocities, however, are increased,
or the unguent not often enough renewed, in both these
cases, but particularly in the last, the unguent will bo
more injurious than useful. rIhe best mode of applying
it, is to cover the rubbing surfaces with as thin a stra¬
tum as possible, for the friction will then be a constant
quantity, and will not be increased by an augmentation
of velocity.
381. In small works of wood, the interposition of the
powder of black lead has been found verv useful in re¬
lieving the motion. I he ropes of pulleys should be
rubbed with tallow, and whenever the screw is used,
the square threads should he preferred.” Appendix to
Ferguson's Lectures, vol. ii.
382. When ropes pass over cylinders or pulleys, a On the ri-
considcrable force is necessary to bend them into the gidity of
form of the circumference round which they are coiled.
1 he force which is necessary to overcome this resistance
is called the stifness or rigidihj of the ropes, This im¬
portant suuject was first examined bv Amontons, * who* Mt’«-
contrived an ingenious apparatus for ascertaining theAat(l l6"\
nguilty of ropes. His experiments were repeated and1*1 2I7'
confirmed in part by subsequent philosophers, hut par¬
ticularly by M. Coulomb, who has investigated the sub¬
ject
r v
M E C H
ject with more care and success than any of hb prede-
Irinics cessors- His experiments were made both with the ap-
^pax-atus of Amontons, and with one of his own inven¬
tion } and as there was no great discrepancy in the re¬
sults, he was authorised to place moxe confidence in his
experiments. The limits of this article will not per¬
mit us to give an account of the manner in which the
experiments were conducted, or even to give a detailed
view of the various conclusions which were obtained. We
can only present the reader with some of those leading
results which may be useful in the construction of ma¬
chinery.
1. The rigidity of ropes increases, the more that the
fibres of which they are composed are twisted.
2. The rigidity of ropes increases in the duplicate
ratio of their diameters. Accox-ding to Amontons and
Desaguliers, the rigidity increases in the simple ratio of
the diameters of the ropes 5 but this probably ai’ose
from the flexibility of the ropes which they employed :
for Desaguliers I'emai’ks, that when he used a rope whose
diameter was half an inch, its rigidity xvas increased in
a greater proportion ; so that it is probable that if they
had employed ropes from two to four inches in diameter,
like those used by Coulomb, they would have obtained
similar results. (See N° 9.)
3. The rigidity of ropes is in the simple and dii’ect
ratio of their tension.
4. The rigidity of ropes is in the inverse ratio of
the diameters of the cylinders round which they are
coiled.
5. In general, the rigidity of ropes is directly as
their tensions and the squai’es of their diameters, and in¬
versely as the diameters of the cylinders round which
they are wound.
6. The rigidity of ropes incx*eases so little with the
velocity of the machine, that it need not be taken into
the account when computing the eftects of machines.
7. The rigidity of small ropes is diminished when pe¬
netrated with moisture } but when the ropes are thick,
their rigidity is increased.
8. The rigidity of ropes is iacreased and their strength
diminished when they ax-e covered with pitch 5 but when
ropes of this kind are alternately immersed in the sea
and exposed to the air, they last longer than when they
are not pitched.—This increase of rigidity, however, is
not so perceptible in small ropes as in those which are
'pretty thick.
9. The rigidity of ropes covered with pitch is a sixth
part greater during frost than in the middle of summer,
but this increase of rigidity does not follow the ratio of
their tensions.
10. The resistance to be overcome in bending a rope
over a pulley or cylinder uiay be represented by a for-
firDn.
mula composed of two terms. The first term —- is a
constant quantity independent of tension, a being a
constant quantity determined by experiment, D” a
power of the diameter D of the x'ope, and r the radius
of the pulley or cylinder round which the rope is coil-
/;DW
cd. The second term of the formula is T X  ’
r
where T is the tension of the rope, b a constant quanti¬
ty, and D* and r the same as before. Hence the com-
A N I C S. n,
plete formula is -|_Tx = X « 4* T £. ,^n\etic?11
7' r r i Meeh ames.
rixe exponent n of the quantity D diminishes with the v
flexibility of the rope, but is generally equal to 1.7 or
1.8 ; or, as in N° 2. the i-igidity is nearly in the dupli¬
cate ratio of the diameter of the rope. When the cord
is much used, its flexibility is increased, and n becomes
equal to 1.5 or 1.4.
Chap. IV. On the Nature and Advantages of Fly
Wheels.
383. A fly, in mechanics, is a heavy wheel or cylinder
which moves rapidly upon its axis, and is applied to
machines for the purpose of rendering uniform a desul¬
tory or reciprocating motion, arising either from the
nature of the machinery, from an inequality in the
resistance to he overcome, or from an irregular applica¬
tion of the impelling power. When the first mover is
inanimate, as wind, water, and steam, an inequality offeree
obviously arises from a variation in the velocity of the wind,
from an increase or deci'ease of water occasioned by
sudden rains, or from an augmentation or diminution of
the steam in the boiler, produced by a variation in the
heat of the furnace ", and accordingly various methods
have been adopted for regulating the action of these
variable powers. The same inequality of force obtains
when machines ax-e moved by horses or men. Every
animal exerts its greatest strength when first set to work.
After pulling for some time, its strength will be impair¬
ed ; and xvhen the resistance is great, it will take fre¬
quent though short relaxations, and then commence
its labour with renovated vigour. These intervals of
rest and vigorous exertion must always produce a varia¬
tion in the velocity of the machine, which ought parti¬
cularly to be avoided, as being detrimental to the com¬
municating parts as well as the performance of the ma¬
chine, and injurious to the animal which is employed to
draw it. But if a fly, consisting either of cross bai's, or
a massy circular rim, be connected with the machinery,
all these inconveniences will be removed. As every fly
wheel must revolve with great rapidity, the momen¬
tum of its circumference must be vex-y considerable, and
xvill consequently resist every attempt either to accelerate
or retard its motion. When the machine therefore has
been put in motion, the fly wheel will be whirling with
an uniform celerity, and with a force capable of con¬
tinuing that celex-ity when there is any relaxation in the
impelling power. After a short rest the animal renews
his efforts ; but the machine is now moving with its for¬
mer velocity, and these fresh efforts will have a tendency
to increase that velocity. The fly, however, now acts
as a resisting power, receives the greatest part of the
superfluous motion, and causes the machinery to preserve
its original celerity. In this way the fly secures to the
engine an uniform motion, whether the animal takes
occasional relaxations or exeils his force with redoubled
ardour.
384. We have already observed that a desultory or
valuable motion frequently arises from the inequality of
the resistance, or work to be performed. -This is particu¬
larly manifest in thrashing mills, on a small scale, which
are driven by water. When the corn is laid unequally
on
ii2 M E C H
- Practical ofl the feeding hoard, so that too much is taken in by
Mechanics, the fluted rollers, this increase of resistance instantly
-J aflects the machinery, and communicates a desultory or
irregular motion even to the water wheel or first mover.
This variation in the velocity of the impelling power
may be distinctly perceived by the ear in a calm even¬
ing when the machine is at work. The best method of
correcting these irregularities is to employ a fly wheel,
which will regulate the motion of the machine when
the resistance is either augmented or diminished. In
machines built upon a large scale there is no necessity
for the interposition of a fly, as the inertia of the ma¬
chinery supplies its place, and resists every change of
motion that may be generated by an unequal admission
of the corn.
385. A variation in the velocity of engines arises also
from the nature of the machinery. Let us suppose that a
weight of 1000 pounds is to be raised from the bottom
of a wTell 50 feet, by means of a bucket attached to an
iron chain which winds round a barrel or cylinder, and
that every foot length of this chain weighs two pounds.
It is evident that the resistance to be overcome in the
first moment is 1000 pounds added to 50 pounds the
weight of this chain, and that this resistance diminishes
gradually as the chain coils round the cylinder, till it
is only 1000 pounds when the chain is completely
wound up. The resistance therefore decreases from 1050
to 1000 pounds •, and if the impelling power is inanimate,
the velocity of the bucket will gradually increase ; but
if an animal is employed, it will generally proportion
its action to the resisting load, and must therefore pull
with a gre ater or less force according as the bucket is near
the bottom or top of the well. In this case, however',
the assistance of a fly may be dispensed with, because
the resistance diminishes uniformly, and may be render¬
ed constant by making the barrel conical, so that the
chain may wind upon the part nearest the vertex at the
commencement of the motion, the diameter of the bar¬
rel gradually increasing as the weight diminishes. In
this way the variable resistance will be equalized much
better than by the application of a fly wheel, for the
fly having no motion of its own must necessarily waste
the impelling power.
386. Having thus pointed out the chief causes of
variation in the velocity of machines, and the method
of rendering it uniform by the intervention of fly
wheels, the utility, and in some instances the necessi¬
ty, of this piece of mechanism, may be more obviously
illustrated by shewing the propriety of their application
in particular cases.
* Sec 387* In the description of Vauloue’s pile engine*,
Part HI. the reader will observe a striking instance of the
Plate utility of fly wheels. The ram Q is raised between
' £(r r the guides o 0 by means of horses acting against the
levers S, S j but as soon as the ram is elevated to
the top of the guides, and discharged from the fol¬
lower G, the resistance against which the horses have
been exerting their force is suddenly removed, and
they would instantaneously tumble down, were it not
for the fly O. This fly is connected with the drum B
by means of the trundle X, and as it is moving with
l N I C S.
a very 'ireat force, it opposes a sufficient resistance to pracjjcaj
the action of the horses, till the ram is again taken up Mechanics,
by the follower. _ _ . ‘ 'nrfy
388. When machinery is driven by a single-stroke
steam engine, there is such an inequality 111 the impel¬
ling power, that for two or three seconds it does not
act at all. During this interval of inactivity the ma¬
chinery would necessarily stop, were it not impelled by
a massy fly wheel of a great diameter, revolving with
rapidity, till the moving power again resumes its
energy.
389. If the moving power is a man acting with a
handle or winch, it is subject to great inequalities. The
greatest force is exerted when the man pulls the handle
upwards from the height of his knee, and he acts with
the least force when the handle being in a vertical po¬
sition is thrust from him in a horizontal direction. The
force is again increased when the handle is pushed
downwards by the man’s weight, and it is diminished
when the handle being at its lowest point is pulled to¬
wards him horizontally. But when a fly is properly
connected with the machinery, these irregular exer¬
tions are equalized, the velocity becomes uniform, and
the load is raised with an equable and steady mo¬
tion.
390. In many cases, where the impelling force is al¬
ternately augmented and diminished, the performance
of the machine may be increased by rendering the resis¬
tance unequal, and accommodating it to the inequali¬
ties of the moving power. Dr Robison observes that
“ there are some beautiful specimens of this kind of
adjustment in the mechanism of animal bodies.”
Besides the utility of fly wheels as regulators of
machinery, they have been employed for accumulating
or collecting power. If motion is communicated to a
fly wheel by means of a small force, and if this force is
continued till the wheel has acquired a great velocity,
such a quantity of motion will be accumulated in its
circumference, as to overcome resistances and produce
effects which could never have been accomplished by
the original force. So great is this accumulation of
power j that a force equivalent to 20 pounds applied
for the space of 37 seconds to the circumference of a
cylinder 20 feet diameter, which weighs 4713 pounds,
would, at the distance of one foot from the centre, give
an impulse to a musket ball equal to what it receives
from a full charge of gunpowder. In the space of six
minutes and 10 seconds, the same effect would be pro¬
duced if the cylinder was driven by a man who con¬
stantly exei'ted a force of 20 pounds at a winch one foot
long (d).
391. This accumulation of power is finely exem¬
plified in the sling. When the thong which contains
the stone is swung round the head of the slinger, the
force of the hand is continually accumulating in the re¬
volving stone, till it is discharged with a degree of rapi¬
dity which it could never have received from the force
of the hand alone. When a stone is projected from the
hand itself, there is even then a certain degree of force
accumulated, though the stone only moves through the
arch of a circle. If we fix the stone in a opening at
the
(D) This has been demonstrated by Mr Atwood. See his Treatise on Rectilineal and Rotatory Motion.
•artical
chanics
' scrlption
i he coni-
• pcadu-
extrcmity of a piece of tvood two feet long, and dis-
charge it in the usual way, there will be more force ac¬
cumulated than with the hand alone, for the stone de¬
scribes a larger arch in the same time, and must there¬
fore he projected with greater force.
392. When coins or medals are struck, a very con¬
siderable accumulation of power is necessary, and this is
effected by means of a fly. The force is first accumu¬
lated in weights fixed in the end of the fly. This force
is communicated to two levers, by which it is farther
condensed ; and from these levers it is transmitted to a
screw, by which it suffers a second condensation. The
stamp is then impressed on the coin or metal by means
of this force, which was first accumulated by the fly,
and afterwards augmented by the intervention of two
mechanical powers.
393. Notwithstanding the great advantage of fly
wheels, both as regulators of machines and collectors
of power, their utility wholly depends upon the position
which is assigned them relative to the impelled and
working points of the engine. For this purpose
no particular rules can be laid down, as their positions
depend altogether on the nature of the machinery. We
may observe however, in general, that when fly wheels
are employed to regulate machinery, they should be near
the impelling power) and when used to accumulate
force in the working point they should not be far distant
from it. In hand-mills for grinding corn, the fly is for
the most part very injudiciously fixed on the axis to
which the winch is attached) whereas it should always
be fastened to the upper millstone so as to revolve with
the same rapidity. In the first position indeed it must
equalize the varying efforts of the power which moves
the winch; but when it is attached to the turning mill¬
stone, it not only does this, but contributes Very effec¬
tually to the grinding of the corn.
394. A new kind of fly, called & conical pendulum
has been ingeniously employed by Mr Watt for procur¬
ing a determinate velocity at the working point of his
steam-engine. It is represented in fig. 8. where AB is
a vertical axis moving upon pivots, and driven by means
of a rope passing from the axis of the large flyover the
sheave EF. The large balls M, N are fixed to the
rods NG, MH, which have an angular motion round
P, and are connected by joints at G and II, with the
rods GK, HK attached to the extremity of the lever KE
whose centre of motion is L, and whose other extremity
is connected with the cock which admits the steam into
the cylinder. The frames CD and QIl prevent the
balls from receding too far from the axis, or from ap¬
proaching too near it. Now when this conical pendu¬
lum is put in motion, the centrifugal force of the halls
M, N makes them recede from the axis AB. In con¬
sequence of this recess, the points C, H, K are depres¬
sed, and the other extremity of the lever is raised ) and
the cock admits a certain quantity of steam into the cy¬
linder. When the velocity of the fly is by any means
increased, the halls recede still farther from the axis, the
extremity of the lever is raised higher, and the cock
closes a little and diminishes the supply of steam. From
this diminution in the impelling power, the velocity of
the fly and the conical pendulum decreases, and the balls
I'esume their former position. In this Way, when there is
any increase or diminution in the velocity of the fly,
Vol. XIII. Part I. ' +
MECHANICS. ti3
the corresponding increase or diminution in the centrifu- Pi-acticai
gal force of the balls raises or depresses the arm of the Mechanics;
lever, admits a greater or a less quantity of steam into the -y~—
cylinder, and restores to the engine its former velocity.
Chap. V. On the Teeth of Wheels, and the Wipers of
Stampers.
395. In the construction of machines, we must not only
attend to the form and number of their parts, but also to
the mode by which they arc to be connected. It would
be easy to shew, did the limits of this article permit it,
that, when one wheel impels another, the impelling
power will sometimes act with greater and sometimes
with less force, unless the teeth of one or both of the
wheels be parts of a curve generated after the manner
of an epicycloid by the revolution of one circle along the
convex or concave side of another. It may be sufficient
to shew, that, when one wheel impels another by the ac¬
tion of epicycloidal teeth, their motion will be uniform.
Let the wheel CD drive the wheel AB by means of the
epicycloidal teeth mp, n q, 0 r, acting upon the infinite-
ly small pins or spindles o, b,c ; and let the epicycloids
m p, nq, &c. be generated by the circumference of the
wheel AB, rolling upon the convex circumference of
the wheel CD. From the formation of the epicycloid
it is obvious that the arch a 6 is equal to in n, and the
arch a c to mo; for during the formation of the part nh
of the epicycloid n q, every point of the arch a i is ap¬
plied to every point of the arch m n, and the same hap¬
pens during the formation of the part c 0 of the epicy¬
cloid 0 r. Let us noW suppose that the tooth mp be¬
gins to act on the pin xi, and that b, c are successive
positions of the pin a after a certain time j then, n q,
0 r will he the positions of the tooth mp after the same
time ) but a b—vi n and a c—m 0, therefore the wheels
AB, CD, when the arch is driven by epicycloidal
teeth, move through equal spaces in equal times, that
is, the force of the wheel CD, and the velocity of the
wheel AB, are always uniform.
396. In illustrating the application of this property
of the epicycloid, which was discovered by Olaus Koe-
mer the celebrated Danish astronomer, we shall call the
small wheel the pinion, and its teeth the leaves of the
pinion. The line which joins the centre of the wheel
and pinion is called the line of centres. There are three
different ways in which the teeth of one wheel may
drive another, and each of these modes of action re¬
quires a different form for the teeth.
1. When the action is begun and completed after the
teeth have passed the line of centres.
2. When the action is begun and completed before
they reach the line of centres.
3. When the action is carried on, on both sides of the
line of centres.
397. 1. The first of these modes of action is represent- First mode
ed in fig. 1. where B is the centre of the wheel (d), A. thatot pjate
of the pinion, and AB the line of centres. It is evident CCCXXIV.
from the figure, that the part b of the tooth a 6 of the fig. j.
wheel, does not act on the leaf m of the pinion till
they arrive at the line of centres AB ) and that all the
action is carried on after they have passed this line, and
is completed when the leaf ni comes into the situations.
When this mode of action is adopted, the acting face.--
P of
(d) In figs, if 2, 3, 4, the letter B is supposed to be placed at the centre of the wheels.
114
Practical
Mechanics.
Tig- 2.
1'ig. r.
Relative
size of the
wheel and
pinion.
of the leaves of the pinion should he parts of an interior
epicycloid, generated by a circle of any diameter rolling
upon the concave superficies of the pinion, or within
the circle a d h ; and the faces a b of the teeth of the
wheel should be portions of an exterior epicycloid form¬
ed by the same generating circle rolling upon the con¬
vex superficies o dp of the wheel.
398. But when one circle rolls within another whose
diameter is double that of the rolling circle, the line ge¬
nerated by any point of the latter is a straight hue, tend¬
ing to the centre of the larger circle. Therefore, if the
generating circle above mentioned should be taken with
its diameter equal to the radius of the pinion, and be
made to roll upon the concave superficies a d h of the
pinion, it will generate a straight line tending to the
pinion’s centre, which will be the form of the faces of
its leaves ; and the teeth of the wheel will be exterior
epicycloids, formed by a generating circle, whose dia¬
meter is equal to the radius of the pinion, rolling upon
the convex superficies 0 d p oi the wheel. This rectili¬
neal form of the teeth is exhibited in fig. 2. and is per¬
haps the most advantageous, as it requires less trouble,
and may be executed with greater accuracy, than if the
epicycloidal form had been employed, though the teeth
are evidently weaker than those in fig. 1.5 it is recom¬
mended both by De la Hire and Camus as particularly
advantageous in clock and watch-work.
399. The attentive reader will perceive from fig. 1.
that in order to prevent the teeth of the wheel from act-
ing upon the leaves of the pinion before they reach the
line of centres AB •, and that one tooth of the wheel
may not quit the leaf of the pinion till the succeeding
tooth begins to act upon the succeeding leaf, there must
be a certain proportion between the number of leaves in
the pinion and the number of teeth in the wheel, or
between the radius of the pinion and the radius of
the wheel, when the distance of the leaves AB is
given. But in machinery the number of leaves and
teeth is always known from the velocity which is re¬
quired at the working point of the machine: It be¬
comes a matter therefore of great importance to de¬
termine with accuracy the relative radii of the wheel
and pinion.
400. For this purpose, let A, fig. 2. be the pinion hav¬
ing the acting faces of its leaves straight lines tending to
the centre, and B the centre of the wheel. AB will be
the distance of their centres. Then as the tooth C is sup¬
posed not to act upon the leaf A.m till it arrives at the
line AB, it ought not to quit A.m till the following
tooth F has reached the line AB. But since the tooth
always acts in the direction of a line drawn perpendicu¬
lar to the face of the leaf Am from the point of contact,
the line CH, drawn at right angles to the face of the
leaf Am, will determine the extremity of the tooth CD,
or the last part of it which should act upon the leaf
Am, and will also mark out CD for the depth of the
tooth. Now, in order to find AH, HB, and CD, put
a for the number of teeth in the wheel, b for the num¬
ber of leaves in the pinion, c for the distance of the pi¬
vots A and B, and let x be the radius of the wheel, and
that of the pinion. Then, since the circumference of
the wheel is to the circumference of the pinion, as the
number of teeth in the one to the number of leaves in
the other, and as the circumferences of circles are pro¬
portional to their radii, we shall have a: b~x : y, then
I
M E C H A N I € S.
by composition (Fuel. v. 18.) a-\-b: b
_„.„r  x . . . c\y (c .be.ing Practical
equal to x+7/), and consequently the radius of the pinion, Mechanics
viz. v=. AA • then by inverting the first analogy, we
J a-\-b
have b : a=y : x, and consequently the radius of the
wheel, viz. x = ~- V being now a known number.
b
Now, in the triangle AHC, right-angled at C, the
side AH is known, and likewise all the angles (HAC
being equal to ? the side AC, therefore, may be
found by plain trigonometry. Then, in the triangle
ACB, the ^.CAB, equal to HAC, is known, ant?
also the sides AB, AC, which contain it the third
side, therefore, viz. CB, may be determined j from
which DB, equal to HB, already found, being sub¬
tracted, there will remain CD for the depth of the
teeth. When the action is carried on after the line
of centres, it often happens that the teeth will not
work in the hollows of the leaves. In order to pre¬
vent this, the CBH must always be greater than
half the ^.HBP. The ^.HBl3 is equal to 360
degrees, divided by the number of teeth in the wheel,
and CBH is easily found by plane trigonometry.
401. If the teeth of wheels and the leaves of pinions be
formed according to the directions already given, they
will act upon each other, not only with uniform force,
but nearly without friction. The one tooth rolls upon
the other, and neither slides nor rubs to such a degree
as to retard the wheels, or wear their teeth. But as
it is impossible in practice to give that perfect curvature
to the faces of the teeth which theory requires, a quantity
of friction will remain after every precaution has been
taken in the formation of the communicating parts.
402. 2. The second mode of action is not so advantage- Second
ous as that which we have been considering, and should,1110(ko!>
if possible, always be avoided. It is represented lnactlon•
fig. 3. where A is the centre of the pinion, B that of Fig-3- !
the wheel, and AB the line of centres. It is evident
from the figure, that the tooth C of the wheel acts upon
the leaf D of the pinion before they arrive at the line
BA 3 that it quits the leaf when they reach this line,
and have assumed the position of E and F; and that
the tooth c works deeper and deeper between the leaves
of the pinion, the nearer it comes to the line of centres.
From this last circumstance a considerable quantity of
friction arises, because the tooth C does not, as before,
roll upon the leaf D, but slides upon it 5 and from the
same cause the pinion soon becomes foul, as the dust
which lies upon the acting faces of the leaves is pushed
into the interjacent hollows. One advantage, how¬
ever, attends this mode ot action : It allows us to
make the teeth of the large wheel rectilineal, and thus
renders the labour of the mechanic less, and the ac¬
curacy of his work greater, than if they had been of a
curvilineal form. It the teeth C, E, therefore of the
wheel BC are made rectilineal, having their surfaces
directed to the wheel’s centre, the acting faces of the
leaves D, I, &c. must be epicycloids formed by a ge¬
nerating circle, whose diameter is equal to the radius
B 0 of the circle op, rolling upon the circumference
m n of the pinion A. But if the teeth of the wheel
and the leaves ol the pinion are made curvilineal as in
the figure, the faces of the teeth of the wheel must be
poitions of an interior epicycloid formed by any gene¬
rating
M E C H A N 1 C S.
ction.
• 4-
Htical rating circle rolling witliiu the concave superficies of
n hanks, the circle op, and the faces of the pinion’s leaves must
- •'V—' be portions of an exterior epicycloid produced by roll¬
ing the same generating circle upon the convex circum¬
ference m n of the pinion.
*] Vli mode 403* 3* mode of action, which is represented
in fig. 4. is a combination of the two first modes, and
consequently partakes of the advantages and disadvan¬
tages of each. It is evident from the figure that the
portion e b of the tooth acts upon the part b c of the
leaf till they reach the line of centres All, and that
the part e d of the tooth acts upon the portion b a of
the leaf after they have passed this line. Hence the
acting parts e h and b c must be formed according to
the directions given for the first mode of action, and
the remaining parts e d, b a, must have that curvature
which the second mode of action requires 5 consequent¬
ly e h should be part of an interior epicycloid formed
by any generating circle rolling on the concave cir¬
cumference m n of the wheel, and the corresponding
part £ c of the leaf should be part of an exterior epi¬
cycloid formed by the same generating circle rolling
upon b EO, the convex circumference of the pinion:
the remaining hart c d oi the tooth should be a portion
of an exterior epicycloid, engendered by any genera¬
ting circle rolling upon e L, the concave superficies of
the wheel: and the corresponding part b a of the leaf
should be part of an interior epicycloid described by
the same generating circle, rolling along the concave
side b EO of the pinion. As it would be extremely
troublesome, however, to give this double curvature to
the acting faces of the teeth, it will be proper to use a
generating circle, whose diameter is equal to the radius
of the wheel BC, for describing the interior epicycloid
e h and the exterior one b c, and a generating circle,
whose diameter is equal to AC, the radius of the pi¬
nion, for describing the interior epicycloid b a, and the
exterior one e d. In this case the two interior epi¬
cycloids e h, b a, will be straight lines tending to the
centres B and A, and the labour of the mechanic will
by this means be greatly abridged.
404. In order to find the relative diameters of the
wheel and pinion, when the number of teeth in the one
and the number of leaves in the other are given, and when
cel and tbe distance of their centres is also given, and the- ratio
ll,jn' of ES to CS, let a be the number of teeth in the
wheel, b the number of leaves in the pinion, c the
distance of the pivots A, B, and let m be to n as ES
to CS, then the arch ES, or SAE, will be equal
lative
meters
the
LED, will be equal to
36°° ^
to —y—, and El), or
But ES : CS=w : n; consequently ED :
: 71, therefore (Eucl. vi. 16.) LC X >ft=ED
LD x« 1 i. r ix • 1 36°
X and LC= ; but LD is equal to  ,
m a
OQQ ^
therefore by substitution LCrr:^ 
J am
Now, in the triangle AFB, AB is known, and also Practical
PB, which is the cosine of the angle AB D, PC Mechanics*,
being perpendicular to DB ; AP or the radius of the w
pinion therefore may be found by plane trigonome¬
try. 'Ike reader will observe that the point P marks
out the parts of the tooth D and the leaf SP where
they commence their action; and the point I marks
out the parts where their mutual action ceases (e) ;
AP therefore is the proper radius of the pinion,
and BI the proper radius of the wheel, the parts
of the tooth L without the point I, and of the leaf
SP without the point P, being superfluous. Now,
to find BI, we have ES ; CSsw* : n, and CS"^’^-
but ES was shewn to be
360 X n
therefore, by substi¬
tution, CS:
b m
36°
Now the arch ES, or EAS,
being equal to ^7-, and CS, or AS, being equal
to
360 X n
, their difference EC, or the angle EAC,
will be equal to
36°
360 X n 360 X m~
  — or , —
,b 771
b m
The
^ EAC being thus found, the triangle EAB, or
IAB, which is almost equal to it, is known, because
AB is given, and likewise AI, which is equal to the
cosine of the angle IAB, AC being radius, and AIC
being a right angle, consequently IB the radius of the
wheel may be found by trigonometry. It was former¬
ly shewn that AC, the radius of what is called the pri-
c b
mitive pinion, was equal to ^ ^ , and that BC the
... AC X«
radius of the primitive wheel was equal to —-r
If
then we subtract AC or AS from AP, we shall have
the quantity SP which must be added to the radius of
the primitive pinion, and if we take the difference of
BC (or BE) and DE, the quantity EE will be found,
which must be added to the radius of the primitive
wheel. We have all along supposed that the wheel
drives the pinion, and have given the proper form
of the teeth upon this supposition. But when the pinion
drives the wheel, the form which was given to the
teeth of the wheel in the first case, must in this be given
to the leaves of the pinion; and the shape which was
formerly given to the leaves of the pinion must now be
transferred to the teeth of the wheel.
405. Another form for the-teeth of wheels, differ-1 orm of
ent from any which we have mentioned, has been re-
commended by Dr Robison. He shews that a perfect t0
uniformity of action may be secured, by making the bison,
acting faces of the teeth involutes of the wheel’s circum¬
ference, which are nothing more than epicycloids, the
centres of whose generating circles are infinitely distant.
Thus in fi«-. i. let AB be a portion of the wheel on
0 y 2 which
(I) The letter L marks the intersection of the line I5L with the arch e and the
ef the arch A O with the upper surface of the leaf m. The letters D and S correspond with L and is .espceUte .,
and P with I.
MECHANICS.
116
Practical which the tooth is to be fixed, and let A/j a be a thread
Mechanics, lapped round its circumference, having a loop hole at
•-—v——' its extremity a. In this loop hole fix the pin a, and
FlS- 5* with it describe the curve or involute abode //, by
unlapping the thread gradually from the circumference
A p m. This curve will be the proper shape for the teeth
of a wheel whose diameter is AB. Dr Robison observes,
that as this form admits of several teeth to be acting at
the same time (twice the number that can be admitted
in M. de la Hire’s method), the pressure is divided
among several teeth, and the quantity upon any one of
them is so diminished, that those dents and impressions
which they unavoidably make upon each other are part¬
ly prevented. He candidly allows, however, that the
teeth thus formed are not completely free from sliding
and friction, though this slide is only -(/oth °f an inch,
when a tooth three inches long fixed on a wheel ten
feet in diameter drives another wheel whose diameter
is two feet. Append, to Ferguson's Lectures.
406. On the Formation of Exterior and Interior Epi¬
cycloids, and on the Disposition oj the Teeth on the
Wheel's Circumference.
Mechanical Nothing can be of greater importance to the prac-
method of Real mechanic, than to have a method of drawing epi-
forniingepi-CyC]0[(jg with facility and accuracy 5 the following, we
cycloids. trus^ jg t[ie most simple mechanical method that can
be employed.—Take a piece of plain wood GH, fig.
IV. 6. 6. and fix upon it another piece of wood E, having its
circumference m b of the same curvature as the circu¬
lar base upon which the generating circle AB is to
roll. When the generating circle is large, the seg¬
ment B will be sufficient: in any part of the circum¬
ference of this segment, fix a sharp pointed nail a,
sloping in such a manner that the distance of its point
from the centre of the circle may be exactly equal to
its radius *, and fasten to the board GH a piece of thin
brass, or copper, or tinplate, a b, distinguished by the
dotted lines. Place the segment B in such a position
that the point of the nail a may be upon the point b,
and roll the segment towards G, so that the nail a may
rise gradually, and the point of contact between the
two circular segments may advance towards m; the
curve a b described upon the brass plate will be an ac¬
curate exterior epicycloid. In order to prevent the
segments from sliding, their peripheries should be rub¬
bed with rosin or chalk, or a number of small iron points
may be fixed on the circumference of the generating
segment. Remove, with a file, the part of the brass
on the left hand of the ejncycloid, and the remaining
concave arch or gage a b will be a pattern tooth, by
means of which all the rest may be easily formed.
When an interior epicycloid is wanted, the concave side
of its circular base must be used. The method of de-
Fig. 7. scribing it is represented in fig. 7. where CD is the ge¬
nerating circle, F the concave circular base, MN the
piece of wood on which this base is fixed, and c d the
interior epicycloid formed upon the plate of brass, by
rolling the generating circle C, or the generating seg¬
ment D, towards the right hand. The cycloid, which
is useful in forming the teeth of rack-work, is generated
precisely in the same manner, with this difterence only,
that the base on which the generating circle rolls must
be a straight line.
In order thaf the teeth may not embarrass one an- Practical
other before their action commences, and that one tooth Mechanics,
may begin to act upon its corresponding leaf of the pi-
nion, before the preceding tooth has ceased to act upon
the preceding leal, the height, breadth, and distance of tooth,
the teeth must be properly proportioned. For this pur¬
pose the pitch-line or circumference of the wheel, which
is represented in fig. 2. and 3. by the dotted arches,
must be divided into as many equal spaces as the num¬
ber of teeth which the wheel is to carry. Divide each
of these spaces into 16 equal parts j allow 7 of these for
the greatest breadth of the teeth, and 9 for the dis¬
tance between each 4 or the distance of the teeth may
be made equal to their breadth. If the wheel drive a
trundle, each space should be divided into 7 equal parts,
and 3 of these allotted for the thickness of the tooth,
and for the diameter of the cylindrical stave of the
trundle. If each of the spaces already mentioned, or
if the distance between the centres of each tooth, be
divided into three equal parts, the height of the teeth
must be equal to two of these. These distances and
heights, however, vary according to the mode of action
which is employed. The teeth should be rounded off'
at the extremities, and the radius of the wheel made a
little larger than that which is deduced from the rules
in Art. 400, 404. But when the pinion drives the
wheel, a small addition should be made to the radius of
the pinion.
On the Nature of Bevelled Wheels, and the method of
giving an epicycloidal form to their Teeth.
407. The principle of bevelled wheels was pointed out Bevelled
by De la Hire, so long ago as the end of the 17th cen- wheels,
tury. It consists in one fluted or toothed cone acting upon
another, as is represented in fig. 8. where the cone ODFig. S.
drives the cone OC, conveying its motion in the direc¬
tion GC. If these cones be cut parallel to their bases
as at A and B, and if the two small cones between
AB and O be removed, the remaining parts AC and
BD may be considered as two bevelled wheels, and
BD will act upon AC in the veiy same manner, and
with the same effect, that the whole cone OD acted
upon the whole cone OC. If the section be made
nearer the bases of the cones, the same effect will be
produced : this is the case in fig. 9. where CD and DE Fig. 9.
are but very small portions of the imaginary cones
ACD and ADE.
408. In order to convey motion in any given direction,
and determine the relative size and situation of the
wheels for this purpose, let AB, fig. 10. be the axis
of a wheel, and CD the given direction in which it is
required to convey the motion by means of a wheel
fixed upon the axis AB, and acting upon another wheel
fixed on the axis CD, and let us suppose that the axis Fig. 10.
CD must have lour times the velocity of AB, or must
peilorm four revolutions while All performs one.
Then the number of teeth in the wheel fixed upon AB
must be four times greater than the number of teeth in
the wheel fixed upon CD, and their radii must have
the same proportion. Draw c d parallel to CD at
any convenient distance, and draw a b parallel to AB
at four times that distance, then the lines i m and i n
drawn perpendicular to AB and CD respectively, will
mark the situation and size of the wheels required. In
this
MECHANICS.
I. . j this case the cones are O n i and O m i, and srn i,
hanks, r p m i, are the portions of them that are employed,
u v-—-' The formation of the teeth of bevelled wheels is
Oi k for- more difficult than one would at first imagine. The teeth
mi m of of gUCjj wl,eels, indeed, must be formed by the same rules
th: tect . w^jcji jiave |aeeri given for other wheels y but since dif¬
ferent parts of the same tooth are at different distances
from the axis, these parts must have the curvature of their
acting surfaces proportioned to that distance. Thus, in
fig. io. the part of the tooth at r must be more incurva-
ted than the part at i, as is evident from the inspection
of fiir. 9. ; and the epicycloid for the part i must be
formed by means of circles whose diameters are t m and
Yf while the epicycloid for the part r must be gene¬
rated by circles whose diameters are C n and D d.
409. Let us suppose a plane to pass through the points
O, A, D ; the lines AB, AO, will evidently be in this
plane, which may be called the plane of centres. Now,
when the teeth of the wheel DE, which is supposed to
drive CD the smallest of the two, commence their action
on the teeth of CD, when they arrive at the plane of
centres, and continue their action after they have passed
this plane, the curve given to the teeth of CD at C,
should be a portion of an interior epicycloid formed by
any generating circle rolling on the concave superficies
of a circle whose diameter is twice C n perpendicular
to CA, and the curvature of the teeth at i should be
part of a similar epicycloid, formed upon a circle, whose
diameter is twice im. The curvature of the teeth of
the wheel DE at D, should be part of an exterior epi¬
cycloid formed by the same generating circle rolling
upon the concave circumference of a circle whose dia¬
meter is twice D d perpendicular to DA ; and the
epicycloid for the teeth at F is formed in the same way,
only instead of twice D d, the diameter oi the circle
must be twice F f When any other mode of action is
adopted, the teeth are to be formed in the same manner
that we have pointed out for common wheels, with
this difference only, that different epicycloids are ne¬
cessary for the parts F and D. It may be sufficient,
however, to find the form of the teeth at I, as the re¬
maining part of the tooth may be shaped by directing
a straight ruler from different points oi the epicycloid
at F to the centre A, and filling the tooth till every
part of its acting surface coincide with the side of the
ruler. The reason of this operation will be obvious by
ig. 8. attending to the shape oi the tooth in fig. 8. When
the small wheel CD impels the large one DE, the
epicycloids which were formerly given to CD must be
given to DE, and those which were given to DE must
be transferred to CD.
( crown 410. The wheel represented in fig. 11 • is> sometimes
r called a crown wheel, though it is evident Irom the figure
that it belongs to that species of wheels which we have
just been considering 5 for the acting surfaces of the
ig. 11. teeth both of the wheel MB and of the pinion EDG
arc directed to C the common vertex oi the two cones
CMB, CEG. In this case the rules for bevelled
wheels must be adopted, in which AS is to be consider¬
ed as the radius of the wheel for the profile oi the tooth
at A, and MN as its radius for the profile oi the tooth
at M j and the epicycloids thus formed will be the sec¬
tions or profiles of the teeth in the direction MP, at
right angles to MC the surfaces of the cone. When
the vertex C of the cone MEG approaches to N till it Practical
be in the same plane with the points M, G, some ofMechanics.
the curves will be cycloids and others involutes, as in v *
the case of rack-work, for then the cone CEG will re¬
volve upon a plane surface. Appendix to Ferguson's
Lectures.
Sect. II. On the Wipers of Stampers, Sc. the Teeth of
Rack-work, fyc. fyc.
411. In fig. 12. let AB be the wheel which is employ- Fig. 12.
ed to elevate the rack C, and let their mutual action not
commence till the acting teeth have reached the line
of centres AC. In this case C becomes as it were the
pinion or wheel driven, and the acting faces of its teeth
must be interior epicycloids formed by any generating
circle rolling within the circumference p q ; but as p q
is a straight line, these interior epicycloids will be cy¬
cloids, or curves generated by a point in the circum¬
ference of a circle, rolling upon a straight line or plane
surface. The acting face op, therefore, will be part ot
a cifcloid formed by arty generating circle, and mn, the
acting face of the teeth of the wheel, must be an ex¬
terior epicycloid produced by the same generating circle
rolling on m r the convex surface of the wheel. If it
is required to make op a straight line, as in the figure,
them mn must be an involute of the circle mr formed
in the manner represented in fig. 5.
412. Fig. 12. likewise represents a wheel depressing
the rack c when the third mode of action is used. In
this case also c becomes the pinion, and DE the wheel 5
e h therefore must be part of an interior epicycloid form¬
ed by any generating circle rolling on the concave side
e x of the wheel, and b c must be an exterior epicy¬
cloid produced by the same generating circle rolling
upon the circumference of the rack. ri he remaining
part c d of the teeth of the wheel must be an exterior
epicycloid described by any generating circle moving
upon the convex side e x, and b a must be an interior
epicycloid engendered by the same generating circle
rolling within the circumference of the'rack. But as
the circumference of the rack is in this case a straight
line, the exterior epicycloid b c and the interior one ba
will be cycloids formed by the same generating circles
which are employed in describing the other epicy¬
cloids. Since it would be difficult, however, as has
already been remarked, to give this compound curva¬
ture to the teeth of the wheel and rack, we may use a
generating circle whose diameter is equal to 1) x the
radius of the wheel, for describing the interior epicy¬
cloid c/i, and the exterior one & cand a generating
circle whose diameter is equal to the radius of the rack,
for describing the interior epicycloid a b, and the ex¬
terior one de; ah and eh, therefore, will be straight
lines, and b c will be a cycloid, and d e an involute ot
the circle e x, the radius of the rack being infinitely
great.
413. In the same manner may the form of the teeth
of rack-work be determined, when the second mode oi
action is employed, and when the teeth of the wheel
or rack are circular or rectilineal. But if the rack be
part of a circle, it must have the same form of its teeth
as that of a wheel of the same diameter with the circle
of which it is a part. T
i iS
M E C H
Proper
form of
wipers.
rig- 13-
Practical In machinery, where large weights are to be raised,
Mechanics, such as fulling-mills, mills tor pounding ore, &c. or
where large pistons are to be elevated by the arms ol
levers, it is of the greatest consequence that the power
should raise the weight with an uniform force and velo¬
city 5 and this can be effected only by giving a proper
form to the wiper.
Now there are two cases hi which this unifor¬
mity of motion may be required, and each of these de¬
mands a different form for the communicating parts,
i. When the weight is to be raised vertically, as the
piston of a pump, &c. 2. When the weight to be
raised or depressed moves upon a centre, and rises or
falls in the arch of a circle, such as the sledge hammer
in a forge, &c.
414. 1. Let AH be a wheel moved by any power
which is sufficient to raise the weight MN by its extre¬
mity O, from O to e, in the same time that the wheel
moves round one-fourth of its circumference, it is re¬
quired to fix upon its rim a wing OBCDLH which
shall produce this effect with an uniform effect. Di¬
vide the quadrant OH into any number oi equal parts
O m, vi n, Sec. the more the better, and 0 e into the
same number 0 b, b c, c d, &c. and through the points
m, v, p, H draw the indefinite lines AB, AC, AD, AL,
and make AB equal to AZ>, AC to Ar, AD to A<f,
and AE to Ac; then through the points O, B, C, D, E,
draw the curve OBCDE, which is a portion of the
spiral of Archimedes, and will be the proper form for
the wiper or wing OHE. It is evident that when the
point vi has arrived at O, the extremity of the weight
will9 have arrived at b; because AB is equal to
A b, and for the same reason, when the points »,/>, H
have successively arrived at O, the extremity of the
weight will have arrived at the corresponding points
c, f/, c. The motion therefore will be uniform, because
the space described by the weight is proportional to
the space described by the moving power, O b being to
O c as 0 vi to O n. If it be required to raise the
weight MN with an accelerated or retarded motion,
we have only to divide the line O e according to the
law of acceleration or retardation, and divide the curve
OBCDE as before.
When the 415. 2. When the lever moves upon a centre, the
weight rises weight will rise in the arch of a circle, and consequent-
111 the arch ]y a new form must be given to the wipers or wings.
1<’jVCjICC L6! hg* I4* he a lever lying horizontally, which
it is required to raise uniformly through the arch BC
into the position AC, by means of the wheel BFH
furnished with the wing BNOP, which acts upon the
extremity C of the lever j and let it be required to
raise it through BC in the same time that the wheel
BEH moves through one-half of its circumference j
that is, while the point M moves to B in the direction
MFB. Divide the chord CB into any number of
equal parts, the more the better, in the points x, 2, 3,
and draw the lines 1 a 2 £ 3 c parallel to AB, or a
horizontal line passing through the point B, and meet¬
ing the arch BC in the points c, b, c. Draw the lines
A N I C S.
CD, a D, £ D, c D, and BD cutting the circle BFH Practice
in the points w, w, 0, yx
Having drawn the diameter Bi\J, divide the se- Y
micircle BFM into as many equal parts as the chord
CB, in the points q, s, it. Take B Vi, and set it from q
to r: Take B n and set it from s to C- lake B 0 and
set it from u to and lastly set B p from M to E.
Through the points r, t, v, E, draw the indefinite lines
DN, DO, DP, DQ, and make DN equal to D c; DO
equal to T> b; DP equal to Da; and DQ equal to
DC. Then through the points Q, P, O, N, B, draw
the spiral B, N, O, P, Q, which will be the proper
form for the wing of the wheel when it moves in the
direction EMB.
That the spiral BNO will raise the lever AC,
with an uniform motion, by acting upon its extremity c,
will appear from the slightest attention to the construc¬
tion of the figure. It is evident, that when the point
q arrives at B, the point r will be in because B m
is equal to q r, and the point N will be at c, because
DN is equal to D c ; the extremity of the lever there¬
fore, will be found in the point c, having moved
through B c. In like manner, when the point s has
arrived at B, the point t will be at ??, and the point
O, in b, where the extremity of the lever will now be
found ; and so on with the rest, till the point M has ar¬
rived at B. The point E will then be in p, and the
point Q in C ; so that the lever will now have the po¬
sition AC, having moved through the equal heights
Be, c b, b a, a e, (f) in the same time that the power
has moved through the equal spaces q B, s q, u .v, M u.
The lever, therefore, has been raised uniformly, the ra¬
tio between the velocity of the power, and that of the
weight, remaining always the same.
416. If the wheel D turn in a contrary direction, ac¬
cording to the letters MHB, we must divide the semi¬
circle BH EM, into as many equal parts as the chord
c B, viz. in the points e, g', h. Then, having set the arch
B m from e to c/, the arch B n from g to f, and the
rest in a similar manner, draw through the points d, f
h, E, the indefinite lines Dll, DS, DT, DQ: make Dll
equal to D c ; DS equal to D &DT equal to D a,
and DQ equal to DC 5 and through the points B, R, S,
T, Q, describe the spiral BRSTQ, which will be the
proper form for the wing, when the wheel turns in the
direction MEB. For, when the point e arrives at B,
the point d will he in vi, and R in r, where the extre¬
mity of the lever will now be found, having moved
through B c in the same time that the power, or wheel,
has moved through the division e B. In the same man¬
ner it may be shewn, that the lever will rise through the
equal heights c b, b «, a C, in the same time that the
power moves through the corresponding spaces e g, g /,
i M. The motion of the lever, therefore, and also that
of the power, are always uniform. Of all the positions
that can be given to the point B, the most disadvanta¬
geous are those which are nearest the points F, II •, and
the most advantageous position is when the chord B c
is vertical, and passes, when prolonged, through D, the
centre
(f) The ai’ches B c, c Z>, &c. are not equal \ but the perpendiculars let fall from the points r, a, Z>, &c. upon
the horizontal lines, passing through a b% &c. are equal, being proportional to the equal lines c I, 1, 2.
Eu-cl. VI. 2.
MECHANICS. n
1 plica] centre of the circle (g). In this particular case the two
d hanics. curVes have equal Ijases, though they ilifler a little in
u "v ' j)0lnt of curvature. The farther that the centre A is
distant, the nearer do these curves resemble each other j
and if it were infinitely distant, they would be exactly
similar, and would be the spirals of Archimedes, as the
extremity c would in this case rise perpendicularly.
It will be easily perceived that 4, 6, or 8 wings may
be placed upon the circumference of the circle, and
may be formed by dividing into the same number of
equal parts as the chord BC, or | of the circum¬
ference, instead of the semicircle BFM.
That the wing BNO may not act upon any part of
the lever between A and C, the arm AC should be
bent; and that the friction may be diminished as much
as possible, a roller should be fixed upon its extremity
C. When a roller is used, however, a curve must al¬
ways be drawn parallel to the spiral described accord¬
ing to the preceding method, the distance between it
and the spiral being everywhere equal to the radius of
the roller.
If it should be required to raise the roller with an
accelerated or retarded motion, we have only to divide
the chord BC, according to the degree of retardation
or acceleration required, and the circle into the same
number of equal parts as before.
417. As it is frequently more convenient to raise or
depress weights by the extremity of a constant radius,
furnished with a roller, instead of wings fixed upon the
periphery of a wheel; we shall now proceed to deter¬
mine the curve which must be given to the arm of the
lever which is to be raised and depressed, in order that
this elevation or depression may be effected with an
uniform motion.
Let AB be a lever, which it is required to raise
uniformly through the arch BC, into the position AC,
by means of the arm or constant radius HE, moving
upon D as a centre, in the same time that the ex¬
tremity E describes the arch Ec E. From the point
C draw CH at right angles to AB, and divide it into
any number of equal parts, suppose three, in the points
1,2; and through the points 1, 2, draw \ a lb, paral¬
lel to the horizontal line AB, cutting the arch CB in
the points a, b, through which draw a A, b A. Upon
D as a centre, with the distance DE, describe the arch
E ? e F, and upon A as a centre, with the distance Practical
AD, describe the arch c O D, cutting the arch E z c F
in the point e. Divide the arches E zc, and F s e, each
into the same number of equal parts as the perpendi¬
cular c H, in the points A, z-, s, m, and through these
points about the centre A, describe the arches Ars, ig,
q r, m zz. Make 2; x and set it from Ac to A, and take
gf and set it from i to h. Take r q also, and set it
from s to t, and set n m from 0 to p, and d c from c to
O. Then through the points E, /, /z; O, and G, t,p, F,
draw the two curves E //z O, and O t p F, which will
be the proper form that must be given to the arm of
the lever. If the handle DE moves from E towards
F, the curve EG must be used, but if in the contrary
direction, we must employ the curve OF.
It is evident, that when the extremity E of the
handle DE, has run through the arch E Ac, or rather
E /, the point l will be in k, and the point 2; in x, be¬
cause x ‘Z is equal to k l, and the lever will have the po¬
sition A b. For the same reason, when the extremity
E of the handle has arrived at the point h will be in
z’, and the point g in /j and the lever will be raised to
tlie position A a. Thus it appears, that the motion of
the power and the weight are always proportional.
When a roller is fixed at E, a curve parallel to EG, or
OF, must be drawn as formerly. See Appendix to Fer¬
guson'1 s Lectures.
Chap. VI. On the First Movers of Machinery.
418. The powers which are generally employed as
the first movers of machines are water, wind, steam, and
animal exertion. The mode of employing water as an
impelling power has already been given at great length
in the article Hydrodynamics. The application of
wind to turn machinery will be discussed in the chapter
on Windmills ; and what regards steam will be more
properly introduced into the article SrEAM-Engmc.
At present, therefore, we shall only make a few general
remarks on the strength of men and horses ; and con¬
clude with a general view of the relative powers of the
first movers of machinery. The following table con¬
tains the weight which a man is able to raise through
a certain height in a certain time, according to differ¬
ent authors.
Table of the Strength of Men, according to different authors.
Number of pounds
raised.
1
IOOO
60
25
170
1000
1000
3°
29 or 30
Height to which
the weight is raised
j8o
220
330
225
3^
2.45 feet.
Time in which
it is raised.
60 minutes
I second
145 seconds
1 second
60 minutes
60 minutes
1 second
1 second
Duration of the
Work.
8 hours
half an hour
10 hours
Names of the
authors.
Euler
Bernouilli
Amontons
Coulomb
Desaguliers
Smeaton
Emerson
Schulze
4I9‘
(g) In the figure we have taken the point B in a disadvantageous position, because the intersection^ are 1
this case more distinct.
120
Practical
Mechanics.
According
to Desa-
guliers.
He suits of
Coulomb’s
experi¬
ments.
M E C H
419. According to Amontons, a man weighing 133
pounds French, ascended 62 feet 1* rcnch by steps in 34
seconds, but was completely exhausted. The same au¬
thor informs us that a sawer made 200 strokes, of 18
inches French each, with a force of 25 pounds, in 145
seconds ", but that he could not have continued the ex¬
ertion above three minutes.
420. It appears from tlie observations of Desaguliers,
that an ordinary man can, for the space of ten hours,
turn a winch with a force of 30 pounds, and with a ve¬
locity of two feet and a half per second ; and that two
men working at a windlass with handles at right angles
to each other, can raise 70 pounds more easily than one
man can raise 30. The reason of this is, that when
there is only one man, he exerts variable efforts at dif¬
ferent positions of the handle, and therefore the motion
of the windlass is irregular ", whereas in the case of
two men, with handles at right angles, the effect of the
one man is greatest when the effect of the other is
least, and therefore the motion of the machine is more
uniform, and will perform more work. Desaguliers
also found, that a man may exert a force of 80 pounds
■with a fly when the motion is pretty quick, and that by
means of a good common pump, he may raise a hogs¬
head of water 10 feet high in a minute, and continue
the exertion during a whole day.
421. A variety of interesting experiments upon the
force of : men were made by the learned M. Coulomb.
He found that the quantity of action of a man who as¬
cended stairs with nothing but his own weight, was
double that of a man loaded with 223 pounds avoirdu¬
pois, both of them continuing the exertion for a day.
In this case the total or absolute effect of the unloaded
man is the greatest possible 5 but the useful effect which
he produces is nothing. In the same way, if he were
loaded to such a degree that he was almost incapable of
moving, the useful effect -would be nothing. Hence
there is a certain load with which the man will produce
the greatest useful effect. This load M. Coulomb
found to be 173.8 pounds avoirdupois, upon the/suppo¬
sition that the man is to ascend stairs, and continue the
exertion during a whole day. When thus loaded, the
quantity of action exerted by the labourer is equivalent
to 183.66 pounds avoirdupois raised through 3282 feet.
This method of working is however attended with a loss
of three-fourths of the total action of the workman.—It
appears also from Coulomb’s experiments, that a man go¬
ing up stairs for a day raises 205 chiliogrammes (a chi-
liogramme is equal to three ounces five drams avoirdu¬
pois) to the height of a chiliometre (a chiliometre is
equal to 39571 English inches) ", that a man carrying
wood up stairs raises, together with his own weight, 109
chiliogrammes to one chiliometre )—that a man weigh¬
ing 150 pounds French, can ascend by stairs three feet
French in a second, for the space of 15 or 20 seconds *,
—that a man cultivating the ground performs -§£ as
much labour as a man ascending stairs, and that his
quantity of action is equal to 328 pounds avoirdupois
raised through the space of 3282 feet ;-~-that a man
with a winch does -f as much as by ascending stairs 5—
and that in a pile-engine, a man by means of a rope
drawn horizontally, raised for the space of five hours
55t Pounds French through one foot French in a se¬
cond—When men walk on a horizontal road, Cou-
2
A N I C S.
lomb found that the .quantity of action was a maximum
when they were loaded, and that this maximum quanti- Mecham,,
ty of action is to that which is exerted by a man loaded 4 v—
with 190.25 pounds avoirdupois as 7 104.—The weight
which a man ought to carry in order that the use/id ef¬
fect may be a maximum, is 165.3 pounds avoirdupois.
'When the workman, however, returns unloaded for
a new burden, he must carry 200.7 pounds avoirdu¬
pois. *
422. According to Dr Robison a feeble old man
raised seven cubic feet of water~437.5 pounds avoir¬
dupois, i i-J- feet high, in one minute, for eight or ten
hours a day, by walking backwards and forwards on a
lever*,—and a young man weighing 135 pounds, and
Carrying 30 pounds, raised 9^ cubic feet of water
— 578.1 pounds avoirdupois, n-J feet high, for 10 hours
a day, without being fatigued.
423. From the experiments of Mr Buchanan, it ap¬
pears that the forces exerted by a man pumping, acting
at a winch, ringing and rowing, are as the numbers
1742, 2856, 3883, 4095. < |
424. According to Desaguliers and Smeaton, the On the
power of one horse is equal to the power of five men. strength
Several French authors suppase a horse equal to seven “0‘s*s'
men, ivhile M. Schulze considers one horse as equiva¬
lent to 14 men.—Two horses, according to the experi¬
ment of Amontons, exerted a force of 150 pounds
French, when yoked in a plough. According to De¬
saguliers, a horse is capable of drawing, with a force of
200 pounds, two miles and a half an hour, and of con¬
tinuing this action eight hours in the day. When the
force is 240 pounds he can work only six hours. It
appears from Smeaton’s reports, that by means ot
pumps a horse can raise 250 hogsheads of water, 10 feet
high, in an hour.—The most disadvantageous way ot
employing the power of a horse is to make him carry
a load up an inclined plane, for it was observed by
De la Hire, that three men, with 100 pounds each,
will go faster up the inclined plane than a horse with
300 pounds. When the horse walks on a good road,
and is loaded with about two hundred weight, he may
easily travel 25 miles in the space of seven or eight
hours; s
425. When a horse is employed in raising coals by
means of a wheel and axle, and moves at the rate of
about two miles an hour, Mr Fenwick found that he
could continue at work 12 hours each day, two and a
half of which were spent in short intervals of rest, when
he raised a load of 1000 pounds avoirdupois, with a
velocity of 13 feet per minute ;—and that he will exert
a force of 75 pounds for nine hours and a half, when
moving with the same velocity. Mr Fenwick also found
that 230 ale gallons of water delivered every minute on
an overshot water-wheel, 10 feet in diameter; that a
common steam-engine, with a cylinder eight inches in
diameter, and an improved engine with a cylinder 6.12
inches in diameter, will do the work of one horse, that
is, will raise a weight of 1000 pounds avoirdupois,
through the height of 13 feet in a minute. It appears
from Mr Smeaton’s experiments, that Dutch sails in
their common position with a radius of 9 feet and a half,
—that Dutch sails in their best position with a radius
of eight feet, and that his enlarged sails with a radius of
seven'feet, perform the same work as one man; or per¬
form
M E C H
] ctical form one-fiftli part of tlie work of a horse. Upon
jvi lianics. these facts we have constructed the following table, the
u V —*
A N I C S* 121
lour first columns of which are taken from Mr Fen- Practical
wick’s Fssays on Practical Mechanics. Mechanics-
Table shewing the relative strength of Overshot Wheels, Steam Engines, Horses, Men, and Wind-mills of
different kinds.
Number of
ale gallons
delivered on
an overshot
wheel, 10
feet in dia¬
meter, every
minute.
2^0
39°
528
660
790
970
1170
*35°
*445
!584
I74°
1900
2100
23OO
25OO
2686
2870
3055
324O
3420
375°
4000
4460
4850
5250
Diameter of
the cylinder
in the com¬
mon steam-
engine, in
inches.
8.
95
10.5
II*5
12.5
14.
i5-4
16.8
r7-3
18.5
19.4
20.2
21.
22.
23.1
23-9
24.7
25-5
26.25
27.
28.5
29.8
31-1
32.4
33-6
Diameter of
the cylinder
of the im¬
proved
steam-engine,
in inches.
6.12
7.8
8.2
8.8
9-35
*°-SS
1I-75
12.8
13.6
14.2
14.8
15.2
16.2
I7-
17.8
18.3
I9.
19.6
20.1
20.7
22.2
23*
23-9
24.7
25*5
Number of
horses work¬
ing 12 hours
per day, and
moving at
the rate of
two miles
per hour.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
.0
11
12
*3
14
15
16
27
18
29
20
22
24
26
28
3°
Number of
men work¬
ing 12 hours
a-day.
5
10
25
20
25
3°
35
40
45
5°
55
60
65
70
75
80
85
90
95
100
no
120
130
140
250
Radius of
Dutch sails
in their com¬
mon position
in feet.
21.24
30-°4
36.80
42.48
47-5°
52-03
56.90
60.09
63-73
67.17
70.46
73-59
76.59
79-49
82.27
84.97
87.07
90.13
92.60
95.00
99.64
104.06
108.32
112.20
116.35
Radius of
Dutch sails
in their best
position,
in feet.
27.89
25-3°
30.98
35-78
40.00
43.82
47-33
50.60
53.66
56.57
59-33
62-97
64-5
66.94
69.28
72.55
73-32
75-9°
77.98
80.00
83.90
87.63
91.22
94.66
97.98
Radius of
Mr Smea-
ton’s en¬
larged sails,
in feet.
25.65
22.1 2
' 27.II
31.30
35-oo
38-34
42.42
44.27
46.96
49.50
52.92
54.22
56.43
58.57
60.62
62.61
64.16
67.42
68.23
70.00
73-42
76.68
79.81
82.82
85-73
lieignt to
which these
difl'erent
powers will
raise 1000
pounds a-
voirdupois
in a minute.
23
26
39
52
65
78
90
104
227
130
243
256
169
182
2 95
208
221
234
247
260
286
312
338
364
39°
426. Dutch sails are always constructed so that the
angle of weather may diminish from the centre to the
extremity of the sail. They are concave to the
wind, and are in their common position when their ex¬
tremities are parallel to the plane in which they move,
or perpendicular to the direction of the wind. Dutch
sails are in their best position when their extremities
make an angle of seven degrees with the plane of their
motion. Mr Smeaton’s enlarged sails are Dutch sails
in their best position, but enlarged at their extremi¬
ties.
427. It appeax-s from M. Coulomb’s experiments on
Dutch wind-mills, with rectangular sails, that when the
distance between the extremities ot two opposite sails is
66 feet French, and the breadth of each sail six feet,
a wind moving at the rate of 20 feet per second will
produce an effect equivalent to 1000 pounds raised
through the space of 218 feet in a minute.
According to Watt and Boulton, one of their
steam engines, with a cylinder 31 inches in diameter,
and which makes 17 double strokes per minute, is equi¬
valent to 40 horses working day and night that is, to
101 horses working nine hours and a half, the time of
constant exertion in the preceding table. W-hep the
Vol. XIII. Part L
cylinder is 19 inches in diameter, and the engine makes
25 strokes of four feet each per minute, its power
is equivalent to twelve horses working constantly, or
thirty horses working nine hours and a half5—and
when the cylinder is 24 inches in diameter, and the
engine makes 22 strokes, of five feet each, in a mi¬
nute, its power is equal to that of 20 horses working
constantly, or 50 horses working nine hours and a
half.
Chap. VII. On the Construction of Wind-mills.
428. A WIND-MILL is represented in fig. l.whereMN Plate
is the circular building that contains the machinery, E CCCXXV.
the extremity of the windshaft, or principal axis, which il&'I'
is generally inclined from 8 to 15 degrees to the hori¬
zon j and EA, EB, EC, ED four rectangular frames
upon which sails of cloth of the same form are stretch¬
ed. At the lower extremity G of the sails their sur¬
face is inclined to the axis 72® j and at their farthest
extremities A, D, &c. the inclination of the sail is
about 83°. Now, when the sails are adjusted to the
wind, which happens when the wind blows in the di¬
rection of the windshaft E, the impulse of the wind
f Q upoa
122
MECHANICS.
wind.
Practical upon the oblique sails may be resolved into two
Mechanics, forces, one of which acts at right angles to the
windshaft, and is therefore employed solely in giving a
motion oi rotation to the sails and the axis upon which
they are fixed. When the mill is used for grinding
corn, a crown wheel, fixed to the principal axis E,
gives motion to a lantern or trundle, whose axis carries
the moveable millstone.
Methods of 429" ^ ^at the wind may act with the greatest efficacy
turning the upon the sails, the windshaft must have the same direc-
sai s to t e tion as the wind. But as this direction is perpetually
changing, some apparatus is necessary for bringing the
windshaft and sails into their proper position. This is
sometimes effected by supporting tiie machinery on a
strong vertical axis, whose pivot moves in a brass socket
firmly fixed into the ground, so that the whole ma¬
chine, by means of a lever, may be made to revolve
upon this axis, and be properly adjusted to the direc-
tion of the wind. Most wind-mills, however, are
furnished with a moveable roof which revolves upon
friction rollers inserted in the fixed kerb of the mill 3
and the adjustment is effected by the assistance of a
simple lever. As both these methods of adjustment
require the assistance of men, it would be very desireable
that the same eftiect should be produced solely by the
action of the wind. rlhis may be done by fixing a
large wooden vane or weather-cock at the extremity of
a long horizontal arm which lies in the same vertical
plane with the windshaft. By this means when the
surface of the vane, and its distance from the centre of
motion, are sufficiently great, a very gentle breeze will
exert a sufficient force upon the vane to turn the ma¬
chinery, and will always bring the sails and windshaft
to their proper position. This weather-cock, it is evi¬
dent, may be applied either to machines which have
a moveable roof, or which revolve upon a vertical
arbor.
O/i the Form and Position of Wind-mill Sails.
430. It appears from the investigations of Parent, that
a maximum effect will he produced when the sails are
The incli- inclined 54^ degrees to the axis of rotation, or when
TneA hv -he a?£le °fTa.ther 18 35t (G) degrees. In obtain-
Parent, er- _ conclusion, however, M. Parent has assumed
roneous. ( . a w‘llch arc inadmissible, and has neglected several
circumstances which must materially affect the result of
ms investigations. The angle of inclination assigned
by Parent is certainly the most efficacious for giving
motion to the sails from a state of rest, and for prevent¬
ing them from stopping when in motion 3 but he has not
considered that the action of the wind upon a sail at
rest is different from its action upon a sail in motion 3
tor since the extremities of the sails move with greater
rapidity than the parts nearer the centre, the angle of
weather should be greater towards the centre than at
the extremity, and should vary with the velocity of
each part of the sail. The reason of this is very ob¬
vious. It has been demonstrated by Bossut, and esta- Praaip*,
blished by experience, that when any fluid acts upon Meclmnitj
a plain surface, the force of impulsion is always exerted
most advantageously when the impelled surface is in a
state of restr and that this force diminishes as the velo¬
city of the surface increases. Now, let us suppose with
Parent, that the most advantageous angle of weather
for the sails of wind-mills is 35-j- degrees for that part
of the sail which is nearest the centre of rotation, and
that the sail has every where this angle of weather 3
then, since the extremity of the sail moves with the
greatest velocity, it will in a manner withdraw itself
from the action of the wind, or, to speak more proper¬
ly, it will not receive the impulse of the wind so ad¬
vantageously as those parts of the sail which have a less
degree of velocity. In order therefore to counteract
this diminution of force, we must make the wind act
more perpendicularly upon the sail, by diminishing its
obliquity or its angle of weather. But since the velo¬
city of every part of the sail is proportional to its di¬
stance from the centre of motion, every elementary por¬
tion of it must have a different angle of weather dimi¬
nishing from the centre to the extremity of the sail.
The law or rate of diminution, however, is still to be
discovered, and we are fortunately in possession of a the¬
orem of Euler’s, afterwards given by Maclaurin, which
determines this law of variation. Let a represent the Euler's
velocity of the wind, and c the velocity of any given theorem,
part of the sail 3 then the effort of the wind upon that
part of the sail will be greatest when the tangent of
the angle of the wind’s incidence, or of the sail’s inclina-
• »• . / QCC 2C
turn to the axis, is to radius, as V 2 + 7^+^ to 1.
Fig. 2.
431. In order to apply this theorem, let us suppose that Explana-
the radius or whip E£) of the sail <*/3Sy, is divided in-d®11 aP<iap|
to six equal parts 3 that the point n is equidistant from 1
E and I), and is the point of the sail which has the samerei^.
velocity as the wind 3 then, in the preceding theorem,
we shall have c~a, when the sail is loaded to a maxi¬
mum 3 and therefore the tangent of the angle, which
the surface of the sail at 11 makes with the axis, when
1, will be
y
2+4+-
-3.561 ~ tangent of 74*
2
19, which gives 15° 41' for the angle of weather at
the point n.. Since, at ^ of the radius c~a, and since
c is pioportional to the distance of the corresponding
part of the sail from the centre, we will have, at l of
the radius sm, c=r — , at | of the radius, 3
3 3
at jf,
 4rt . ? Sa
c ^ ’ at g’ C—~ ^ and at the extremity of the ra¬
dios, c 2 <7. By substituting these different values of
Cl instfd of e in the theorem, and by making a=i,
the following table will be obtained, which exhibits the
angles of inclination and weather which must be given
to different parts of the sails.
Parts
(g) The weather of the sails is the angle which the surface forms will, i
equal to live complement of the angle which that surface forms with the aiis.h P “e
in which they move, and is
ir
ictical
ihanics.
Parts of the ra
dius from th<
centre of mo
tion at E.
5
-o- or f
r T
Velocity ©f the
sail at thes
distances...or
values of c.
a
3
2 a
3
a
4 a
T
5_2.
3
2 a
Angle made
with the axis.
Deg.
63
69
74
77
79
81
Min
26
54
20
27
o
Angle of wea
ther.
Deg.
26
2d
x5
12
10
9
Min
34
6
4
40
33
o
12
Its of
ton’s
432. Mr Smeaton found, from a variety of experi¬
ments, that the common practice of inclining plane sails
lioin '72 to y3 to the axis, was much more efficaci¬
ous than the angle assigned by Parent, the effect being
as 45 to 31. When the sails were weathered in the
Dutch manner, that is, when their surfaces were con¬
cave to the wind, and when the angle of inclination in¬
creased towards their extremities, they produced a
greater effect than when they were weathered either in
the common way, or according to Euler’s theorem.
But when the sails were enlarged at their extremities,
as represented at a /3, in fig. 2. so that « /3 was one-
third of the radius ED, and * D to D £ as 5 to 3,
their power was greatest of all, though the surface act¬
ed upon by the wind remained the same. If the sails
fie farther enlarged, the effect is not increased in pro¬
portion to the surface j and besides, when the quantity
of cloth is great, the machine is much exposed to in¬
jury by sudden squalls of wind. In Mr Smeaton’s ex¬
periments, the angle of weather varied with the di¬
stance from the axis 5 and it appeared from several
trials, that the most efficacious angles were those in the
following table.
ME C H A N I C S.
Maxim I. The velocity of wind-mill sails, whether Practical
unloaded or loaded, so as to produce a maximum effect Meehanics,
is nearly as the velocity of the wind, their shape and 1 v  
position being the same. Effects of
Maxim*. The load at the maximum is nearly "If™"
but somewhat less than, as the square of the velocity co'dinq‘to
ie wind, the shape and position of the sails being Smeaton.
the same. b
Maxim 3. The effects of the same sails at a maxi¬
mum, are nearly, but somewhat less than, as the cubes
ot toe velocity of the wind.
Maxim 4. The load of the same sails at the
maximum is nearly as the squares, and their effects
as the cubes of their number of turns in a o-iven
time. b
Maxim 5. \V hen sails are loaded, so as to produce
a maximum at a given velocity, and the velocity of
the wind increases, the load continuing the same:
1st, I he increase of effect, when the increase of the.
velocity of the wind is small, will be nearly as the
squares of those velocities : 2dly, When the velo¬
city of the wind is double, the effects will be near-
y as 10 . 27-*-; But, 3dly, When the velocities
compared are more than double of that where the
given load produces a maximum, the effects increase
nearly in the simple ratio of the velocity of the
wind.
Maxim 6. In sails where the figure and positions
are similar, and the velocity of the wind the same, the
number of turns in a given time will be reciprocally as
the radius or length of the sail.
Maxim 7. The load at a maximum that sails of a
similar figure and position will overcome at a given
distance from the centre of motion, will be as the cube
of the radius.
Maxim 8. The effects of sails of similar figure and
position are as the square of the radius.
Maxim 9. The velocity of the extremities of Dutch
sails, as well as of the enlarged sails, in all their usual
positions when unloaded, or even loaded to a maxi¬
mum, are considerably quicker than the velocity of the
wind.
Parts of the radius
EA, which is di-
videdintof) parts
Angle with the
axis.
72
71
72
74
77 i
83
Angle of weather.
18
18 middle
16
I2f
7
If the radius ED of the sail be 30 feet, then the sail
Mil commence at ^ED, or 5 feet from the axis, where
the angle of inclination will he 72°. At ED, or 10
feet from the axis, the angle will be 710, and so on.
On the Effect of Wind-mill Sails.
433-_ The following maxims deduced by Mr Smeaton
ffo.n his experiments, contain the most accurate infor¬
mation upon this subject.
.434“ new niode of constructing the sails of wind¬
mills has been recently given by Mr Sutton, and fully
described by Mr Hesleden of Barton, in a work exclu¬
sively devoted to the subject.
T he limits of this article will not permit us to enter
into any discussion respecting the principles upon which
Mr Sutton’s gravitated sails are constructed ; but the
-subject shall be resumed under the article Windmill.
It may he proper however to remark that Mr Sutton
giv es his sails the form represented in fig. 4. and makes
the angle of weather at the point M, equidistant from
A and B, equal to 22° 30'. The inclination of the
sail at any other point N of the sail, is an angle whose
sine is the distance of that point from the centre of mo¬
tion A, the radius being the breadth of the sail at that
point. Fig. 3. shews the angles at the different Fig, 3,
points of the sail j and the apparent and absolute
breadth of the sail at these points. Mr Sutton’s
mode of regulating the velocity of the sails, and of
bringing them to a state of rest is particularly in¬
genious.
Q 2 On
124 ■
Practical
Mechanics.
Harizontal
vciud-mills.
435'
M E C H
On Honzonial JHad-mitis.
Various opinions have been entertained respect¬
ing the relative advantages of horizontal and vertical
wind-mills. Mr Smeaton, with great justice, gives a
decided preference to the latter j but when he asserts
that horizontal wind-mills have only f or -V- oi the
power of vertical ones, he certainly forms too low an
estimate of their power. Mr Beatson, on the contra¬
ry, who has received a patent for the construction of a
new horizontal wind-mill, seems to be prejudiced in
their favour, and greatly exaggerates their comparative
value. From an impartial investigation, it will proba¬
bly appear, that the truth lies between these two oppo¬
site opinions ; but before entering on this discussion,
we must first consider the nature and form of horizontal
winds-mills.
ri;. 4, 436. In fig. 4. CK is.the windshaft, which moves up¬
on pivots. Four cross bars, CA, CD, IB, FG, are fix¬
ed to this arbor, which carry the frames APIB, DEFG.
The sails AT, EG, are stretched upon these frames,
and are carried round the axis CK, by the perpendicu¬
lar impulse of the wind. Upon the axis CK, a toothed
wheel is fixed, which gives motion to the particular
machinery that is employed. In the figure, only two
sails arc represented} but there arc always other two
Common placed at right angles to these. Now, let the sails be
nut bod of exposed to the wind, and it will be evident that no mo-
bringing . • 'll pnsne • for the force of the wind unon the sail
jrmging tion will ensuefor the force of the wind upon the sail
! ■■U'-agaln't ^ counteracted by an equal and opposite force up-
Iht wind, on the sail EG. In order then, that the wind may
communicate motion to the machine, the force upon
the returning sail EG must either he removed by
screening it from the wind, or diminished by making it
present a less surface when returning against the wind.
The first of these methods is adopted in Tartary, and
in some provinces of Spain; but is objected to by Mr
Beatson, from the inconvenience and expence of the
machinery and attendance requisite for turning the
screens into their proper positions. Notwifchtsanding
this objection, however, I am disposed to think that
this is the best method of diminishing the action of the
wind upon the returning sails, for the moveable screen
may easily be made to follow" the direction of the wind,
and assume its proper position, by means of a large
wooden weathercock, without the aid either of men or
machinery. It is true, indeed, that the resistance of
the air in the returning sails is not completely remo¬
ved *, but it is at least as much diminished as it can he
by any method hitherto proposed^ Besides, when this
plan is resorted to, there is no occasion for any move-
able flaps and hinges, which must add greatly to the
expence of every other method.
Ceatson's 437- The mode of bringing the sails back against*
the wind, which Mr Beatson invented, is perhaps, the
simplest and best of the kind. He makes each sail AI
to consist of six or eight flaps or vanes, AP b 1, b 1 c 2,
&.c. moving upon hinges represented by the dark lines,
AP, b 1, c 2, &c. so that the lower side b 1, of the first
flap overlaps the hinge or higher side of the second flap,
and so on. When the wind, therefore, acts upon the
sail AI, each flap will press upon the hinge of the one
immediately below it, and the whole surface of the sail
will be exposed to its action. But when the sail AI
returns against the wind, the flaps will revolve round
A N I C S.
upon their hinges, and present ©niy their edges to the Practical,
wind, as is represented at EG, so that the resistance Mcchaaie»|
occasioned by the return of the sail must be greatly di- v—
minished, and the motion will be continued by the
oreat superiority of force exerted upon the sails in the
position AI. In computing the force of the wind upon
the sail AT, and the resistance opposed to it by the
edges of the flaps in EG, Mr Beatson finds, that when
the pressure upon the former is 1872 pounds, the le-
sistance opposed by the latter is only about 36 pounds,
or ^ part of the whole force; but he neglects the ac¬
tion of the wind upon the arms CA, &c. and the
frames which carry the sails, because they expose the
same surface in the position AI, as in the position
EG. This omission, however, has a tendency to mis¬
lead us in the present case, as we shall now see, lor we
ought to compare the whole force exerted upon the
arms, as well as the sail, with the whole resistance
which these arms and the edges of the flaps oppose to
the motion of the windmill. By inspecting fig. 4. it
will appear, that if the force upon the edges of the flaps,
which Mr Beatson supposed to be 12 in number,
amounts to 36 pounds, the force spent upon the bars
CD, DG, GF, FE, &c. cannot be less than 60 pounds.
Now, since these bars are acted upon with an equal
force, when the sails have the position AI, i8’72-j-6o
— 1932 will be the force exerted upon the sail AI, and
its appendages, while the opposite force upon the bars
and edges of the flaps when returning against the wind
Avill be 36 + 60=^96 pounds, which is nearly ot
1932, instead of as computed by Mr Beatson.
Hence we may see the probable advantages of a screen
over moveable flaps, as it will preserve not only the
sails, hot the arms and the frame which support it,
from the action of the wind.
438. We shall now conclude this chapter with a
comparison of the power of horizontal and vertical sons be-
wind-mills. It was already stated, that Mr Smeaton tween vl
rather underrated the former, while he maintained that|lca^ a"l
they have only f or TJ-0- the power of the latter. He
observes, that when the vanes of a horizontal and a ver¬
tical mill are of the same dimensions, the power of the
latter is four times that of the former^ because, in the
first case, only one sail is acted upon at once, while, sn
the second, case, all the four receive the impulse of the
wind. This, however, is not strictly true, since the
vertical sails are all oblique to the direction of the
wind. Let us suppose that the area of each sail is 100
square feet; then the power of the horizontal sail will
be 100, and the power of a vertical sail may be
called 100
X sine 7001 (70° being the common angle
of inclination) — 88 nearly; but since there are four
vertical sails, the power of them all will be 4X 88=:
3524 so that the power of the horizontal sail is to that
of the four vertical cues as 1 to 3.52, and not as 1
to 4, according to Mr Smeaton. But Mr Smeaton
also observes, that if we consider the farther disadvan¬
tage which arises from the difficulty of getting the sails
back against the wind, we need not wonder if horizon¬
tal wind-mills have only about f or ^5 the power of
the common sort. We have already seen, that the re¬
sistance occasioned by the return of the sails amounts
to tIq of the whole force which they receive j by sub¬
tracting —therefore, from — , ive shall find that
20
3-5 i
the
M E C H
1.03
articaI the power of horizontal wind-mills is only —or lit-
chames. x 4*40
t{e morc than that of vertical ones. This cal¬
culation proceeds upon a supposition, that the whole
force exerted upon vertical sails is employed in turning
them round the axis of motion ; whereas a considerable
part of this force is lost in pressing the pivot of the axis
or vvisdshaft against its gudgeon. Sir Smeaton has
overlooked this circumstance, otherwise he could never
have maintained that the power of four vertical sails
was quadruple the power of one horizontal sail, the di¬
mensions of each being the same. Taking this circum¬
stance into the account, we cannot be far wrong in say¬
ing, that in theory at least, if not in practice, the
power of a horizontal wind-mill is about y or of the
power of a vertical one, when the quantity of surface
and the form of the sails is the same, and when every
part of the horizontal sails has the same distance from
the axis of motion as the corresponding parts of the ver¬
tical sails. But if the horizontal sails have the position
AT, EG, in lig. 4. instead of the position CA d m,
CD 0 «, their power will be greatly increased, though
the quantity of surface is the same, because the part
CP 3 m being transferred to 151 3 d, has much more
power to turn the sails.
Chap. VIII. On the Construction of Wheel Car¬
riages.
the size 439* It ’1S evident from Art. 60. that when a wheel
carriage surmounts an obstacle, it acts as a lever of the first kind,
eels- and that its power to overcome such resistances in-
TXXV creases with its diameter. The power ol the force P,
fcV. o'. f<u' example, to raise the wheel NB over the eminence
C, is proportional to the vertical lever T C, which
increases with the diameter of the wheel, while tlm
lever of resistance FA, by which the weight of
the wheel acts, remains unchanged 5 hence we see
the advantages of large wheels for overcoming such
obstacles as generally resist the motion of wheel car¬
riages. There are some circumstances, however, which,
independent of the additional wreight and expence of
large wheels, prescribe limits to their size. ^ li the ra¬
dius AC of the wheel exceeds the height of that part
of the horse to which the traces are attached, the line
of traction DA will be oblique to the horizon, and
part of the power P will be employed in pressing the
wheel upon the ground. A wheel exceeding four and
a half feet radius, which is the general distance from
the ground of that part of the horse to which the traces
are attached, has still the advantage of a smaller
wheel j hut when we consider that the traces or poles
of the cart will, in this case, rub against the flanks of
the horses, so that the power of the wheel is diminished
by the increase of its weight, vve shall be convinced that
no power is gained by making the radius of tne
wheels greater than four ami a half feet. Even this
size is too great, as shall he afterwards shown, when we
treat of the line of traction, so that we may safely as-
sei’t, that the diameter of wheels should never be great¬
er than six feet. The fore wheels of our carriages are
still unaccountably small, and it is not uncommon to
see carts moving upon wheels scarcely 14 inches in dia¬
meter. The convenience of turning is urged as the rea¬
son for diminishing the fore wheels of carriages, and
4
A N I C S. 125
the facility of loading the cart is considered as a suffi- Practical
cient reason for using wheels so small as 14 inches. Mechanics.
The first of these advantages, however, may be obtain- 1 *
ed by going to the end of a street, or to a proper place
for turning the carriage j and a few additional turns of
a windlass will he sufficient to convey the heaviest loads
into carts mounted on high wheels.
440. The next thing to be determined is tho shape
of the wheels. Now it is certainly a matter of surprise
how the unnatural shape which is at present given to
them could ever have been brought into use. A cy¬
lindrical wheel, with the spokes perpendicular to the
naves, is undoubtedly the form which every mechanic
would give to his wheels, before he had heard of the
pretended advantages of concave or dishing wheels, or
those which have inclined spokes and conical rims. It pjat
has been alleged, indeed, that the form represented in CccxxV.
fig. 5. when A r, B s is the conical rim, and 0 A, p B pjg. *
the inclined spokes, renders the wheel stronger than it
would otherwise be j that by extending the base of the
carriage it prevents it from being overturned j that it
hinders the fellies from rubbing against the load or the
sides of the cart; and that when one wheel falls into a
rut, and therefore supports more than one half of the
load, the spokes are brought into a vertical position,
which renders them more capable of sustaining the ad¬
ditional weight. Now it is evident that the second of
these advantages is very trifling, and may be obtained,
when required, by interposing a piece of board between
the wheel and the load.
441. The other two advantages exist only in very
had roads ; and if they are necessary, which we much
question, in a country like this, where the roads are so
excellently made, and so regularly repaired, they can
easily be procured, by making the axle-tree a few inches
longer, and increasing the strength of the spokes. But
it is allowed on all hands that perpendicular spokes are
preferable on level ground. I he inclination of the
spokes, therefore, which renders concave wheels advan¬
tageous 111 rugged and unequal roads, renders them dis¬
advantageous when the roads are in good order j and
where the good roads are more numerous than the had
ones, as they certainly are in this country, the disad¬
vantages of concave wheels must overbalance their ad¬
vantages. It is true indeed that in concave wheels,
the spokes are in their strongest position, when they are
exposed to the severest strains, that is, when one wheel
is in a deep rut, and sustains more than one half of the
load : but it is equally true that on level ground, where
the spokes are in their weakest position, a less severe
strain, by continuing for a much longer time, may be
equally if not more detrimental to the wheel. _ >
Upon these observations we might rest the opinion
which we have been maintaining, and appeal for its
truth to the judgment of every intelligent and unbias¬
sed mind ; hut we shall go a step farther, and endea¬
vour to show that concave dishing wheels are more ex¬
pensive, more injurious to the roads, more liable to be
broken by accidents, and less durable in general, than
those wheels in which the spokes are perpendicular to
the naves. By inspecting fig. 5- * ^ aPPear th.c
whole of the pressure which the wheel AB sustains is
exerted along the inclined spoke ps, and therefore acts
obliquely upon the level ground n D, whether the rims
are conical or cylindrical. This oblique action must
necessarily
MECHANICS.
126
Practical necessarily injure the roads, by loosening the stones more
Mechanics, between B and I) than between B and and if the
~v load were sufficiently great, the stones would start up
between s and D. The texture of the roads, indeed,
is sufficiently firm to prevent this from taking place j
hut in consequence of the oblique pressure, the stones
between s and D will at least be loosened, and by ad¬
mitting the rain the whole of the road will be materially
damaged. But when the spokes are perpendicular to the
nave as pn, and when the rims mA, ?/B are cylindrical,
or parallel to the ground, the weight sustained by the
wheel will act perpendicularly upon the x-oad •, and how¬
ever much that weight is increased, its action can have
no tendency to derange the materials of which it is
composed, but is rather calculated to consolidate them,
and render the road more firm and durable.
442. It was observed that concave wheels are more
expensive than plane ones. This additional expence
arises from the greater quantity of wood and workman¬
ship which the former require ; for in order that dishing
wheels may he of the same perpendicular height as
plane ones, the spokes of the former must exceed in
length those of the latter, as much as the hypothenuse
oA of the triangle oA?i exceeds the side om ; and there¬
fore the weight and the resistance of sucli wheels must
he proportionahly great. The inclined spokes, too,
cannot be formed nor inserted with such facility as per¬
pendicular ones. The extremity of the spoke which is
fixed into the nave is inserted at right angles to it, in
the direction 0 p, and if the rims are cylindrical, the
other spoke should he inserted in a similar manner j
while the intermediate portion has an inclined position.
There are. therefore two flexures or bendings in the
spokes of concave wheels, which requires them to he
formed out of a larger piece of wood than if they had
no such flexures, and renders them liable to be broken
by any sudden strain at the points of flexure.
443. We shall now dismiss the subject of concave
wheels with one observation more, and we beg the read¬
er’s attention to it, because it appears to he decisive of
the question. The obstacles which carriages have to
encounter, are almost never spherical protuberances that
permit the elevated wheel to resume by degrees its hori¬
zontal position. They are generally of such a nature,
that the wheel is instantaneously precipitated from their
top to the level ground. Now the momentum with
which the wheel strikes the ground is very great, arising
from a successive accumulation of force. The velocity
of the elevated wheel is considerable when it reaches
the top ol the eminence, and while it is tumbling
into the level ground, it is receiving gradually that
proportion of the load which was transferred to the
other wheel, till having recovered the whole, it impin¬
ges against the ground with great velocity and force.
But in concave wheels the spoke which then strikes the
ground is in its weakest position, and therefore much
more liable to be broken by the impetus of the fall,
than the spokes of the lowest wheel by the mere trans¬
ference of additional weight. Whereas, if the spokes
he perpendicular to the nave, they receive this sudden
shock in their strongest position, and are in no danger
of giving way to the strain.
444. In the preceding observations we have suppo¬
sed the rims of the wheels to be cylindrical. In con-
3
cave wheels, however, the rims arc uniformly made of 'Practical
a conical form, as A r, B s, fig. 5. which not only in-Mechanic
creases the disadvantages which we have ascribed to  v—-
them, but adds many more to tire number. Mr Gum¬
ming, in a late Treatise on YS heel Carnages, solely
devoted to the consideration of this single point, has
shewn with great ability the disadvantages of conical
rims, and the propriety of making them cylindrical;
hut we are of opinion that he has ascribed to conical rims
several disadvantages which arise chiefly from an incli¬
nation of the spokes. He insists much upon the injury
done to the roads by the use of conical rims ; yet though
we are convinced that they are more injurious to pave¬
ments and highways than cylindrical rims, we are
equally convinced, that this injury is occasioned chiefly
by the oblique pressure of the inclined spokes. The
defects of conical rims arc so numerous and palpable,
that it is wonderful thev should have been so lone
overlooked. Every cone that is put in motion upon a
plane surface will revolve round its vertex, and if force
is employed to confine-it to a straight line, the smaller
parts of the cone will be dragged along the ground and
the friction greatly increased. Now when a carriage
moves upon conical wheels, one part of the cone rolls
while the other is dragged along, and though confined
to a rectilineal direction by external force, their natural
tendency to revolve round their vertex occasions a great
and continued friction upon the linch pin, the shoulder
of the axle-tree, and the sides of deep ruts.
445. The shape of the wheels being thus determined,
we must now attend to some particular parts of their
construction. The iron plates of which the rims are
composed should never he less than three inches in
breadth, as narrow rims sink deep into the ground, and
therefore injure the roads and fatigue the horses. Mr
Walker, indeed, attempts to throw ridicule upon the
act of parliamentwhich enjoined the use of broad wheels j
but he does not assign any sufficient reason for his opi¬
nion, and ought to have known that several excellent
and well devised experiments were lately instituted bv
Boulard and Margueron, which evince in the most satis
factory manner, the great utility of broad wheels.
Tpon this subject an observation occurs tons, which has
not been generally attended to, and which appears to
remove all the objections which can he urged against
broad rims. When any load is supported upon two
points, each point supports one half of the weight; if
the points are increased to four, each will sustain one-
fourth of the load, and so on $ the pressure upon each
point of support diminishing as the number of points
increases, jf a weight therefore is supported by a
broad surface, the points of support are infinite in num¬
ber, and each of them will hear an infinitely small por¬
tion ol the load 5 and, in the same way, every finite
portion of this surface will sustain a part of the weight
inversely proportional to the number of similar portions
which the surface contains. Let us now suppose that a
cart carrying a load of sixteen hundred weight is sup¬
ported upon wheels whose I'ims are four inches in
breadth, and that one of the wheels passes over four
stones, each of them an inch broad and equally high, and
capable of being pulverized only by a pressure of four
hundred pounds weight. Then as each wired sustains
one half of the load, and as the wheel which passes
over
M E C H A N I C S.
I ctical over the stones lias four points of support, each stone
U lanies. will bear a weight of two hundred weight, and tliere-
fore will not be broken. But if the same cart, with
rims only two inches in breadth, should pass the same
way, it will cover only two of the stones j and the
wheel having now only two points of support, each
stone will be pressed with a weight of four hundred
weight, and will therefore be reduced to powder.
Hence we may infer that narrow wheels are in another
point of view injurious to the roads, by pulverizing the
materials ol which they are composed.
446. As the rims of wheels wear soonest at their
edges they should be made thinner in the middle, and
ought to be fastened to the fellies with nails of such a
kind that their heads may not rise above the surface of
the rims. In some military waggons we have seen the
heads of these nails rising an inch above the rims, which
not only destroys the pavement of streets, but opposes
a continual resistance to the motion of the wheel. If
these nails were eight in number, the wheel would ex¬
perience the same resistance, as if it had to surmount
eight obstacles, one inch high, during every revolution.
The fellies on which the rims are fixed should in car¬
riages be three inches and a fourth deep, and in wag¬
gons four inches. The naves should be thickest at the
place where the spokes are inserted ; and the holes in
which the spokes are placed should not be bored quite
through, as the grease upon the axle-tree would in¬
sinuate itself between the spoke and the naves, and pre¬
vent that close adhesion which is necessary to the
strength of the wheel.
On the Position of the Wheels.
447. It must naturally occur to every person reflect¬
ing upon this subject, that the axle-trees should be
straight and the wheels perfectly parallel, so that they
may not be wider at their highest than at their lowest
pomt, whether they are of a conical or a cylindrical
form. In this country, however, the wheels are always
made concave, and the ends of the axle-trees are uni¬
versally bent downwards, in order to make them spread
at the top and approach nearer below. In some car¬
nages which we have examined, where the wheels
were only four feet six inches in diameter, the distance
of the wheels at top was fully six feet, and their distance
below' only four feet eight inches. By this foolish prac¬
tice the very advantages which may be derived from
the concavity of the wheels are completely taken away,
while many of the disadvantages remain j more room
is taken up in the coach-house, and the carriage is
more liable to be overturned by the contraction of its
base.
448. With some mechanics it is a practice to bend
the ends of the axle-trees forwards, and thus make the
wheels wider behind than before. This blunder has
been strenuously defended by Mr Henry Beighton,
who maintains that wheels in this position are more
favourable for turning, since, when the wheels are paral-
’ ^ie outermost when turning would press against the
imeh pin, and the innermost would rest against the
shoulder of the axle-tree. In rectilineal motions, how¬
e'er, these converging wheels engender a great deal
0 friction both on the axle and the ground, and
must therefore be more disadvantageous than parallel
On the Line of Traction
Horses exert their strength.
I27
and the Method by which
7 • ’ J Mechanics.
449. M. Camus attempted to shew that the line of
traction should always be parallel to the ground on
w nch the carriage is moving, both because the horse
can exert his greatest strength in this direction, and be¬
cause the line of draught being perpendicular to the ver¬
tical spoke of the wheel, acts with the largest possible
lever. M. Couplet, however, considering that the roads
are never perfectly level, and that the wheels are con¬
stantly surmounting small eminences even in the best of
roads, recommends the line of traction to be oblique
to the horizon. By this means the line of draught
HA, (which is by far too much inclined in the figure) Fig. 6.
will in general be perpendicular to the lever AC
which mounts the eminence, and will therefore act
with the longest lever when there is the greatest ne¬
cessity for it. We ought to consider also, that when a
horse pulls hard against any load, he always brings his
breast nearer the ground, and therefore it follows, that
if a horizontal line of traction be preferable to all others,
the direction of the traces should be inclined to the ho¬
rizon when the horse is at rest, in order that it may be
horizontal when he lowers his breast and exerts his
utmost force. The particular manner, however, in
which living agents exert their strength against great
loads, seems to have been unknown both to Camus and
Couplet, and to many succeeding writers upon this
subject. It is to M. Deparcieux, an excellent philo¬
sopher and ingenious mechanic, that we are indebted
for the only accurate information with which we are
furnished j and we are sorry to see that philosophers
who flourished after him have overlooked his important
instructions. In his memoir on the draught of horses
he has shewn in the most satisfactory manner, that ani¬
mals draw by their weight, and not by the force of
their muscles. In four-footed animals, the hinder feet
is the fulcrum of the lever by which their weight acts
against the load, and when the animal pulls hard, it
depresses its chest and thus increases the lever of its
weight, and diminishes the lever by which the load re¬
sists its efforts. Thus, in fig. 6. let P be the load, AD
the line of traction, and let us suppose FC to be the
hinder leg of the horse, and AE part of its body, A
its chest or centre of gravity, and CE the level road.
Then AFC will represent the crooked lever by which
the horse acts, which is equivalent to the straight one
AC. But when the horse’s weight acts downwards at
A, so as to drag forward the rope AD and raise the
load P, CE will represent the power of the lever in
this position, or the lever of the horse’s weight, and
CF the lever by which it is resisted by the load, or *”
the lever of resistance. Now if the horse lowei-s its
centre of gravity A, which it always does when it pulls
hard, it is evident that CE, the lever of its weight,
will be increased, while CF the lever of its resistance
will be diminished, for the line of traction AD will
aj>proach nearer to CE. Hence we see the great
benefit which may be derived from large horses 5 for
the lever AC necessarily increases with their size, and
their power is always proportioned to the length of
this lever, their weight remaining the same. Large •
horses, therefore, and other animals, will draw more
than small ones, even though they have less muscular
force,
123 M E C H
Practical force, and are unable to carry such a heavy burden.
Mechanics. The force of the muscles tends only to make the horse
1 ' * carrv continually forward his centre ol gravity, or, in
other words, the weight of the animal produces the
draught, and the play and force of its muscles sert e to
continue it.
450. Ifrom these remarks, then, we may deduce the
proper position of the line of traction. When the line
of traction is horizontal, as AD, the lever of resistance
is CF; but if this line is oblique to the horizon, as
A d, the lever of resistance is diminished to Cj^ while
tire lever of the horse’s weight always remains the same.
Hence it appears, that inclined traces are much more
advantageous than horizontal ones, as they uniformly
diminish the resistance to be overcome. Deparcieux,
however, has investigated experimentally the most fa¬
vourable angle of inclination, and found, that when the
angle DAF made by the trace A d and a horizontal
line is fourteen or fifteen degrees, the horses pulled
with the greatest facility and force. This value of the
angle of draught will require the weight of the spring-
tree bar, to which the traces are attached in four-wheel¬
ed carriages, to be one-half of the height of that part of
the horse’s breast to which the fore end of the trace is
connected.
Tig. 7. 451. When several horses are yoked in the same carriage
as represented in fig. 7. and when the declivity changes,
the length of the traces has a considerable influence up¬
on the draught. From the point E where the traces are
fastened to the horse next the load, draw ER to the same
point in the second horse E, and let R7 be another posi¬
tion of the second horse , it is required to find the dif¬
ference of effect that will be produced by placing the
second horse at R or at R7, or the comparative advan¬
tages of short and long traces. From R7, the point where
the traces are fixed, draw R7F7E ; and from E draw
E. m 11 parallel to the declivity DA. Take EF^rEF7
to represent the power of the horse in the direction of
the traces, which will be the same whether he is yoked
at R or at R7 5 draw EA perpendicular to DA, F
F7 m parallel to EA, and F <p, F'^ parallel to E n.
Then since the second horse when at R pulls with a
force represented by FE, in the direction FE, we
may resolve this force into the two forces, E n, E
one of which E n is solely employed in dragging the
cart up the inclined plane DA, while the other E <p is
solely employed in pressing the first horse E to the
ground. Let the horse be now removed from R to R7,
the direction of the traces becomes RF7E, and F7E—
FE is the power exerted by the horse at R7 and the di¬
rection in which it is exerted. But this force is equi¬
valent to the forces E m, E f the first of which acts
directly against the load, while the other presses the
horse against the ground. Flence w'e see the disad¬
vantages of long traces, for the force which drawls
the load when the horse is at R7 is to the force when
the horse is at R, as E m to E n, and the forces which
press the horse upon the ground as Y, f to E <p, or as
F7 m to F 7i. Now E ^=F wr:FE x sin. n EF; hence
F <p—-FE X sin. (« E f—FE g7) (g7 E being parallel
to AB7) and E »—EF Xcos. (7? Eg7—FEg7). In like
manner we have Ey^rFExsin. {11 Eg'—F'Eg7), and
E jn=EFxtos. (11 Eg7—PEg7). Now sin. FEg-'zs
R P* R £T
sin. FEg—^-g, and sin. FEg7=^= but Rg
A N t C S.
=xR7 g7— BR—EQ= Blt-r-BR x cos. » Eg-'rrBR X Practical)
(I cos. n Eg). By substituting this value in the Mechanic I
equations which contain the values of E <p, E77, Yf Ym,y—
and considering that the angles FEg7, F'Eg7 are al¬
ways so small that their arcs differ very little from their
sines, we have FE g”
BR x 1—cos- n F g
ER
and
Y'Yg'z
BRX1—cos. 71 Eg
ER7
By substituting these values in the preceding equations,
we have
E <p:=EF x sin. (77 E g-
E/77=EF x sin. (77 E g-
E77=EFX COS. (77 Eg-
BR x 1—cos. 77 Eg
ER *
BRx 1—cos. 77 Eg
ER7 ’
BRXI —cos. 77 Eg
ER
E 7/7~EF X COS. (77 E g-
BR x 1—cos. 77 E g
ER7
If AB is horizontal, and the declivity AD~we shall
have 77 Eg:—90 28', or in parts of the radius=c.i6522,
and cos. 77 Egrro.98638. Then, if EF=r20O pounds,
BR=34 feet, ER=8 feet, ER'=I2 feet, then we
shall have from the preceding formulae, E
pounds, Ey=:32.350 pounds, E77= 197.470 pounds, and
E 777—197.404. Hence an additional length of four feet
to traces eight feet long, presses the horse E to the
ground with an additional force of 32.250—31.716
rzo.534 pounds, and diminishes the effect of the other
horse by 0.066 pounds.
O71 the Position of the Cc7itrc of Gravityt and the man¬
ner of disposing the load.
452. If the axle-tree of a two-wheeled carriage pass
through the centre of gravity of the load, the carriage
will be in equilibrio in every position in which it can be
placed with respect to the axle-tree j and in going up and
down hill the w hole load will be sustained by the wheels,
and will have no tendency either to press the horse to
the ground or to raise him from it. But if the centre
oi gravity is above the axle-tree, as it must necessarily
he, according to the present construction of wheel-car¬
riages, a great part of the load will be thrown on the
back ot the horses from the wheels when going down a
steep road, and thus tend to accelerate the motion of
the carriage which the animal is striving to prevent;
while, in ascending steep roads, a part of the load will
be thrown behind the wheels, and tend to raise the
horse from the ground, when there is the greatest ne¬
cessity for some w'eight on his back to enable him to
fix his feet in the earth, and overcome the great resist¬
ance which is occasioned by the steepness of the road.
On the contrary, if the centre of gravity is below the
axle, the horse will be pressed to the ground in going
up bill, and lifted from it when going down. In all
these cases, therefore, where the centre of gravity is
either on the axle-tree or directly above it or belowr,
tire
MECHANICS. <5 123
Lcfc'cal (lie horse will bear no part t>f the load iii level ground, ly lower the point c, but will bring it forward, and Fnirtita!
u lianics. In some situations the animal will be lifted from the nearer the proper position m. Part of the load, too. Mechanics.
— ground when there is the greatest necessity fot Ins being
pressed to it, and he will sometimes bear a great pro¬
portion of the load when he should rather be relieved
of it.
45:3. The only way of remedying these evils, is to as¬
sign such a position to the centre of gravity, that the
horse may bear some portion of the weight when he
must exert great force against the load, that is, in level
ground, and when he is ascending steep roads •, for no
animal can pull with its greatest effort unless it is pres-
[ |iate sed to the ground.—Now this may be in some measure
p XXV. effected in the following manner. Let BCN be the
I >■ 5- wheel of a cart, AD one of the shafts, D that part of
it where the cart is suspended on the back of the horse,
and A the axle-tree-3 then, if the centre of gravity of
the load is placed at m, a point equidistant from the two
wheels, but below the line DA, and before the axle-
tree,—the horse will bear a certain weight on level
ground,—a greater weight when he is going up hill
and has more occasion for it, and less Weight when he
is going down hill, and does not require to be pressed
to the ground : All this will be evident from the fi¬
gure.—When we recollect that the shaft DA is horizon¬
tal, the centre of gravity will press more upon the point
of suspension D the nearer it comes to it; or the pressure
upon D, or the horse’s back, will be proportional to
the distance of the centre of gravity from A. If m,
therefore, be the centre of gravity, b A will represent
its pressure upon D, when the shaft DA is horizontal.
When the cart is ascending a steep road, AH will be.,
the position of the shaft, the centre of gravity wriil be
raised to a, and a A will be the iiressure upon D. But
if the cart is going down hill, AG will be the position
t>f the shaft, the centre of gravity will be depressed to
n, and c A will represent the pressm*e upon the horse’s
hack. The weight sustained by the horse, therefore,
is properly regulated by placing the centre of gra¬
vity at m. We have still, however, to determine the
proper length of Z< « and b m, the distance of the cen¬
tre of gravity from the axle, and from the horizontal
line DA *, but as these depend upon the nature and
inclination of the roads, upon the length of the shaft
DA, which depends on the si?.e of the horse, on the
magnitude of the load, and on other variable circum¬
stances, it would be impossible to fix tbeir value.—If
the load, along with the cart, weighs 400 pounds j if
the distance DA be eight feet, and if the horse should
bear 50 pounds of the weight, then b A should be one
loot, which, being one-eighth of DA, will make the
pressure upon D exactly 50 pounds. If the road slopes
four inches in a foot, b m must he four inches, or the
angle b A m should be equal to the inclination of the
road ; for then the point m will rise to a when ascend¬
ing such a road, and will press with its greatest force on
the back of the horse.
454. When carts are not made in this manner,
we may, in some degree obtain the same end by judi¬
ciously disposing the load. Let us suppose that the
centre of gravity is at O when the cart is loaded witli
homogeneous materials, such as sand, lime, &c. then
if the load is to consist of heterogeneous substances, or
bodies of dift’erent weights, we should place the heaviest
at the bottom and nearest the front, which will not on-
Vol. XIII. Part I. t
might be suspended below the fore part of the carriage
in dry weather, and the centre of gravity would ap¬
proach still nearer the point m. When the point m is
thus depressed, the weight on the horse is not only ju¬
diciously regulated, but the cart would he prevented
from overturning 5 and in rugged roads the weight sus¬
tained by each wheel would be in a great degree equa¬
lised.
Description of different Carriages.
455. In figure 8. is represented a carriage invented Carriages
by Mr Richard, a physician in Rochelle, which moves t^.at moV®
without horses, merely by the exertion of the passengers. ]U^lu,j’ut
The machinery by which this is effected is placed in appr, s',
box behind the carriage, and is shewn in figure 9.
where AA is a small axis fixed into the box, and B a
pulley over which a rope passes whose two extremities
are tied to the ends of the levers or treddles C, D : the
other ends of the levers are fixed by joints to the cross Fig. 9.
beam MF. The cranks FF are fixed to the axle KL,
and move upon it as a centre. Each of them has a detent,
tooth at F which catches in the teeth of the wheels PI, H,
so that they can move from F to H without moving the
wheel, but the detent tooth catches in the teeth of
the wheels when the cranks are brought backward, and
therefore bring the wheel along with them. When
the foot of the passenger, therefore, is placed upon the
treddle D, it brings down the crank F and along with
it the wheel H, so that the large wheels fixed on the
same axis perform part of a revolution 5 hut when D is
depressed, the rope DA descends, the extremity C of the
other treddle rises, and the crank F rising along with
it, takes into the teeth of the wheel H, so that when the
elevated treddle C is depressed, the wheels II, H, and
consequently the wheels I, I, perform another part of a,
revolution. In this way, by continuing to work at the
treddles, the machine advances with a regular pace.
456. A carriage of this kind, where the mechanism
is much more simple and beautilul than that which we
have described, lias been lately invented and construct¬
ed by Mr Nasmyth of Edinburgh, a gentleman whose
mechanical genius is scarcely inferior to his talents as a
painter. The pulley B and axle A A, are rendered un¬
necessary 5 leather straps are substituted in place of the
cranks F, F, and the whole mechanism is contained in
two small cylindrical boxes about six inches in dia¬
meter, and one and a half broad.
457. A carriage driven by the action of the wind is Fig. 10.
exhibited in fig. 10. It is fixed on four wheels, and mo¬
ved by the impulse of the wind upon the sails C, D,
being guided by the rudder E. Carriages of this kind
will answer very well in a level country where the roads
are good and the wind fair \ and are said to be much
used in China. In Flolland they sometimes use similar
vehicles for travelling upon the ice j hut they have a
sledge instead of wheels, so that if the ice should happen
to break, there will be no danger of sinking. Stephinus,
a Dutchman, is said to have constructed one ot these
carriages with wheels, which travelled at the rate of 21
miles an hour with a very strong wind.
458. The carriage represented in fig. 11. is made Fig. n-
so as to sail against the wind by means of the spiral sails
R E,
i3o • M E C H
Description E, F, G, H, one of which F, is expanded by the wind.
of The impulse of the wind upon the sails gives a rotatory
Machines motion to the axle M, furnished with a cog-wheel K,
whose trundles act upon teeth placed on the inside oi
the fore-wheels.
Fig. rz. 459. A carriage which cannot he overturned is repre¬
sented in figure 12. where AB is the body of the carriage,
consisting of a hollow globe, made of leather or wrood,
at the bottom of which is placed an immoveable weight
A N I C S.
proportioned to the load which the carriage is to near. Deseripl
Two horizontal circles ol iron li, E, connected with of I
bars HI, and two vertical circles F, G, surround the
globe •, and the wheels are fastened by a handle K to Fio. ^
the perpendicular bars HI. Then since the body of
the carriage moves freely in every direction within the
iron circles, the centre of gravity will always be near
C, and the carriage will preserve an upright position
even if the wheels and frame were overturned.
PART III. DESCRIPTION OF MACHINES.
Chap. I. Machines which illustrate the doctrines of
Mechanics, or are connected with than.
I. Atwood's Machine.
Atwood s 460. THE ingenious machine invented by Mr At-
machine, wood for illustrating the doctrines of accelerated and re-
CCCXXVlAarded motion, is represented in figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
Fig. 1.2. 3. and enables us to discover, 1. The quantity of matter
moved. 2. The moving force. 3. The space described.
4. The time of description ; and, 5. The velocity ac¬
quired at the end of that time.
461. 1. Of the quantity of matter moved.,—In order to
observe the effects of the moving force, which is the
object of any experiment, the interference of all other
forces should be prevented: the quantity of matter
moved, therefore, considering it before any impelling
force has been applied, should be without weight} for
though it he impossible to abstract weight from any
substance whatever, yet it may be so counteracted as
to produce no sensible effect. Thus in the machine
FJg-1- fig- 1. A, B represent two equal weights affixed to
the extremities of a very fine silk thread : this thread is
stretched over a wheel or fixed pulley abed, move-
able round a horizontal axis : the two weights A, B
being equal, and acting against each other, remain in
equilibrio j and when the least weight is superadded
to either (setting aside the effects of friction), it will
preponderate. \Vhen A, B are set in motion by the
action of any weight m, the sum A-f-B-f-w, would
constitute the whole mass moved, but for the inertia
of the materials which must necessarily be used in the
communication of motion/ These materials consist of,
1. ’I he wheel abed, over which the thread sustaining
A and B passes. 2. The four friction wheels on which
the axle of the wheel a b c d rests. 3. The thread by
which the bodies A and B are connected, so as when
set in motion to move with equal velocities. The
weight and inertia of the thread are too small to have
any sensible effect on the experiments ; but the inertia
of the other materials constitute a considerable propor-
lion of the mass moved, and must therefore he taken
into account. Since when A and B are put in mo¬
tion, they must move with a velocity equal to that of the
circumference of the wheel a b c d to which the thread
is applied; it follows, that if the whole mass of the
wheels were accumulated in this circumference, its in¬
ertia would be truly estimated by the quantity of mat¬
ter moved ; but since the parts of the wheels move
w ta different velocities, their effects in resisting the
communication of motion to A and B by their inertia
will be different; those parts which are furthest from
the axis resisting more than those which revolve nearer,
in a duplicate proportion of those distances, (see Rota¬
tion). If the figures of the wheels were regular, the
distances of their centres of gyration from their axes of
motion would he given, and consequently an equivalent
weight, which being accumulated uniformly in the
circumference abed, would exert an inertia equal to
that of the wheels in their constructed form, would also
he given. But as the figures are irregular, recourse
must be had to experiment, to assign that quantity of
matter, which being accumulated uniformly in the cir¬
cumference of the wheel a b c d, -would resist the com¬
munication of motion to A in the same manner as the
wheels.
In order to ascertain the inertia of the wheel abed,
w ith that of the friction wdieels, the weights AB being-
removed, the following experiment wjas made.
A weight of 30 grains wras affixed to a silk thread of
inconsiderable weight; this thread being wound round
the wheel a b c d, the w-eight 30 grains by descend¬
ing from rest communicated motion to the wheel,
and by many trials w as observed to describe a space of
about 38* inches in 3 seconds. From these data the
equivalent mass or inertia of the wheels wull he known
from this rule.
Let a weight P, fig. 2. he applied to communicate Fig. d
motion to a system of bodies by means of a very slender
and flexible thread going round the wheel SLDIM,
through the centre of which the axis passes (G being
the common centre of gravity, R the centre of gravity
of the matter contained in this line, and O the centre
of oscillation). Let this W'eight descend from rest
through any convenient space s inches, and let the ob¬
served time of its descent be t seconds; then if /he
the space through which bodies descend freely by gra¬
vity in one second, the equivalent weight sought
W x SR x SO _ P X d l p
SD2 - * •
Here we have P—30 grains, t—3 seconds, /m93
inches, 6—38.5 inches; and —* 1 -—P— AA/ZAA2Z
s 385
30=1323 grains, or 2^ ounces.
This is the inertia equivalent to that of the wheel
abed, and the friction wheels together: for the rule
extends to the estimation of the inertia of the mass con¬
tained in all the wheels.
1 lie resistance to motion therefore arising from the Fjg.
wheel’s inertia, will be the same as if they were abso¬
lutely
M E C H
U-vIptionlutely removed, and a mass of ounces uniformly ac-
llof cumulated in the circumference of the wheel a b c d.
j nines, '['his being premised, let the boxes A and 13 be re-
u -v ' placed, being suspended by the silk thread over the
wheel or pulley abed, and balancing each other : sup¬
pose that any weight m be added to A so that it shall
descend, the exact quantity of matter moved, during
the descent of the weight A, will be ascertained, for
the whole mass will be A-j-E 2^ oz.
In order to avoid troublesome computations in ad¬
justing the quantities of matter moved and the moving
forces, some determinate weight of convenient magni¬
tude may be assumed as a standard, to which all the
others are referred. This standard weight in the sub¬
sequent experiments is i of an ounce, and is represent¬
ed by the letter m. The inertia of the wheels being
therefore =2^ ounces, will be denoted by it m. A
and B are Uvo boxes constructed so as to contain differ¬
ent quantities of matter, according as the experiment
may require them to he varied: the weight of each
box, including the hook to which it is suspended,
— i-J- oz. or, according to the preceding estimation,
the Aveight of each box will be denoted by 6 m ; these
t Ij. boxes contain such weights as are represented by lig. 3.
each of which weighs an ounce, so as to be equiva¬
lent to 4 m ; other weights of oz. ~2 m, i—and
aliquot parts of in, such as \m, ^ m, may be also in¬
cluded in the boxes, according to the conditions of the
different experiments hereafter described.
If 4^ oz. or 19 w, be included in either box, this
with the weight of the box itself will be 2^ m ; so that
when the weights A and B, each being 25 111, are ba¬
lanced in the manner above represented, their whole
mass will be 50 m, which being added to the inertia of
the wheels 11m, the sum will be 61 m. Moreover,
three circular weights, such as that which is repre¬
sented at fig. 4. are constructed ; each of which oz.
or m: if one of these be added to A and one to B, the
whole mass will now become 63 m, perfectly in equili-
brio, and moveable by the least weight added to either
(setting aside the effects of friction), in the same manner
precisely as if the same weight or force were applied to
communicate motion to the mass 63 m, existing in free
space and without gravity.
462. 2. The moving force. Since the weight of any
substance is constant, and the exact quantity of it easily
estimated, it will be convenient here to apply a Aveight
to the mass A as a moving force : thus, Avhen the sys¬
tem consists of a mass~63 m, according to the preced¬
ing description, the A\Thole being perfectly balanced, let
*| o* a Aveigbt ^ oz. or m, such as is represented in fig. 5. be
applied on the mass A; this Avill communicate motion
to the whole system ; by adding a quantity of matter
rn to the former mass 63 m, the AA'hole quantity of mat¬
ter moved will iioav become 64 m ; and the moving
force beinct = m, this Avill <nve the force Avhich acce-
lerates the descentof A——, or — part of the acce-
64 m 64
derating force of gravity.
By the preceding construction, the moving force
may be altered Avithout altering the mass moved 5 for
suppose the three Aveights m, two of Avhich are placed
on A and one on B, to be . removed, then Avill A ba¬
lance B. If tlie Aveights 3 m he all placed on A, tbe
A N I C S. 1
moving force Avill become 3 m, and the mass moved Description
64 m as before, and the foixe which accelerates the de- of
om 3 „ , . Machines.
scent of Ars - — parts of the force by Avhxch gra- \ J
04 m 64 •' b
vity accelerates falling bodies.
fauppose it Avere required to make the moving force
2 m, the mass moA^ed continuing the same. Let the
three weights, each of Avhich ~m, be removed 3 A.
and B Avill balance each other j and the Avhole mass
Avill be 61m: let 4 m, fig. 3. be added to A, and 4 ?n Fig. .
to B, the equilibrium Avill be preserved, and the mass
moved Avill be 6lm; noAV let 2 m be added to A, the
moving force Avill be 2m; and the mass moved 64m as
before 3 Avheretore the force of acceleration ~f~2- part
of the acceleration of gravity. These alterations in the
moving force may be easily made in the more elemen¬
tary experiments, there being no necessity for alter*
ing the contents of tbe boxes A and B : but the pro¬
portion and absolute quantities of the moving force and
mass moved, may be of any assigned magnitude, ac¬
cording to tho conditions of the proposition to be illus¬
trated.
463. 3. Of the space described. The body A, fig. 1. Fig. t.
descends in a vertical line 3 and a scale about 64 inches
in length divided into inches and tenths of an inch is
adjusted vertical, and so placed that the descending
Aveight A may fall in the middle of a square stage, fixed
to receiv'e it at the end of the descent : the beginning
of the descent is estimated from o on the scale, Avhen
the bottom of the box A is on a level Avith o. The de¬
scent of A is terminated Avhen the bottom of the box
strikes the stage, which may be fixed at different distan¬
ces from the point o 3 so that by altering the position of
the stage, tbe space described from rest may be of any
given magnitude less than 64 inches.
464. 4. The time of description is observed by a pendu¬
lum, vibrating seconds; and the experiments intended to
illustrate the elementary propositions, may easily he so
constructed that the time of motion shall be a Avhole
number of seconds. The estimation of the time, there¬
fore, admits of considerable exactness, proAudcd the ob¬
server takes care to let the bottom of the box A begin
its descent precisely at any beat of the pendulum 3 then
the coincidence of the stroke of the box against the
stage, and the heat of the pendulum at the. end of the
time of motion, Avill shoAV how nearly the experiment
and the theory agree. There might be various devices
for letting the Aveight A begin its descent at tbe instant
of a beat of the pendulum W 3 for instance, let tbe
bottom of the box A, when at o on the scale, rest on a
flat rod, held in the hand horizontally 3 its extremity-
being coincident with o, by attending to the beats of
the pendulum 3 and Avith a little practice, the rod Avhich
supports the box A may be removed at the moment the
pendulum beats, so that the descent of A shall commence
at the same instant.
465. 5. Of the velocity acquired. It remains only to de¬
scribe in Avhat manner the velocity acquired by the de¬
scending Aveight A, at any given point of its path, is
made evident to the senses, he A’elocity of A s de¬
scent being continually accelerated will be the same in
tA\-o points of the space described. 1 bis is occasioned by
the constant action of the moving force 3 and since the
velocity of A at any instant is measured by the space
K 2 which
132
Description
of
Machines.
Fig. 6.
MECHANICS.
which would be described by it moving uniformly for a
given time with the velocity it had acquired at that in¬
stant, this measure cannot be experimentally obtained,
except by removing the force by which the descending
body’s acceleration was caused.
In order to show in what manner this is effected par¬
ticularly, let us again suppose the boxes A and B—25/tt
each, so as together to be =50 m y this with the wheel’s
inertia 1 x m will make 61 m 5 now let m be added to
A, and an equal weight m to B, these bodies will ba¬
lance each other, and the whole mass will be 63 m.
If a weight m be added to A, motion will be commu¬
nicated, the moving force being m, and the mass mov¬
ed 64 m. In estimating the moving force, the circular
weight.—ra xvas made use of as a moving force: but
for the present purpose of showing the velocity acquir¬
ed, it will be convenient to use a flat rod, the weight
of which is also ~m. Let the bottom of the box A
be placed on a level with o on the scale, the w-hole mass
being as described above = 63m, perfectly balanced.
Now let the rod, the weight of which =m, be placed
on the upper surface of A 5 this body will descend along
the scale in the same manner as when the moving force
was applied in the form of a circular weight. Suppose
the mass A, fig. 6. to have descended by constant acce¬
leration of the force of m, for any given time, or through
a given space: let a circular frame be so affixed to the
scale, contiguous to which the weight descends, that A
may pass centrally through it, and that this circular
frame may intercept the rod m by which the body A
has been accelerated from rest. After the moving
force m has been intercepted at the end of the given
space or time, there will be no force operating on any
part of the system which can accelerate or retard its
motion: this being the case, the weight A, the instant
after m has been removed, must proceed uniformly with
the velocity which it had acquired that instant: in the
subsequent part of its descent, the velocity being uni¬
form will be measured by space described in any conve¬
nient number of seconds.
466. Mr Atwood’s machine is also useful for estima¬
ting experimentally the velocities communicated by the
impact of bodies elastic and nonelastie ; the quantity of
resistance opposed by fluids, as well as for various other
purposes. These uses we shall not insist on j but the
properties of retarded motion being a part of the pre¬
sent subject, it may be necessary to show in what man¬
ner the motion of bodies resisted by constant forces are
reduced to experiment by means of the instrument above
described, with as great ease and precision as the pro-
•perties of bodies uniformly accelerated. A single in¬
stance wTill be sufficient: Thus, suppose the mass con¬
tained in the weights A and B, fig. 6. and the wheels
to be 61 m, when perfectly in equilibrio } let a circular
weight m be applied to B, and let two long weights or
x*ods, each ~vi, be applied to A, then will A descend
by the action of the moving force w, the mass moved
being 64 m : suppose that when it has described any gi¬
ven space by constant acceleration, the two rods m are
intercepted by the circular frame above described, while
A is descending through it, the velocity acquired by
that descent is known $ and when the two rods are in¬
tercepted, the weight A will begin to move on with
the velocity acquired, being now retarded by the con¬
stant force m 5 and since the mass moved is 62 m, the
force of retardation will be 7,V part of that force where- Description
by gravity retards bodies thrown perpendicularly up- of
wards. The weight A will therefore proceed along Machines,
the graduated scale in its descent, with an uniformly
retarded motion, and the spaces described, times of mo¬
tion, and velocities destroyed by the resisting force, will
be subject to the same measures as in the examples of
accelerated motion already described.
In the preceding descriptions, two suppositions have
been assumed, neither of which is mathematically true :
but it might be easily shown that they are so in a phy¬
sical sense y the errors occasioned by them being insen¬
sible in practice.
!
l
2. Machine for illustrating the Theory of the Wtedge.
467. This machine is represented in fig. 7. where
K1LM and LMNO are two flat pieces of wood joined
together by a hinge at LM j P is a graduated arch on
which these pieces of wood can be moved so as to sub¬
tend any angle not greater than 6o°, and r?, b twro screws
for fixing them at the required angle. The back of the
wedge will therefore be represented by IKNO, its
sharp edge by LM, and its two sides by KILM,
LMNO. The weight p suspended to the wedge by
the hook M, and the weight of the wedge itself, may
be considered as the force employed to drive the wedge.
The wooden cylinders AB, CD, have their extremities
made like two flat circular plates to prevent the wedge
from slipping oil' at one side. To the pivots of these cy¬
linders, two of which are represented at e and f are fast¬
ened the cords cW, yU, CV, AX, which passing over
the pulleys U, V, X, W are fastened to the two bars
u r, x w, on which any equal weights Y, Z may be
hung at pleasure. The tendency of these weights is
evidently to draw the cylinders towards each other,
and they may therefore be regarded as the resistance of
the wmod acting against the sides of the wredge. The
cylinders themselves are suspended by their pivots to the
threads E, F, G, II, which may be fixed to the ceiling
of the room, or to the horizontal beam of a frame made
on purpose.—By placing various equal weights at Y
find Z, it may be easy to determine the proportion be¬
tween the power and the resistance when the wedge is
in equilibrio.—In this machine the impelling power is
the pressure of the weight p, whereas, in the real
wedge, the impelling power is always an. impulsive
force which is infinitely more powerful.
Plate
cccxxvt,
% 7*
,1
h
n
h’
k
[
3. Machine far illustrating the effects of the centrifugal
force in flattening the poles of the Earth.
468. Fig. 8. represents this machine, which consists of Fig. S.
two flexible circular hoops, AB and CD, crossing one
another at right angles, and fixed to the vertical axis
EF at its knver extremity, but left loose at the pole or
intersection e. II this axis be made to revolve rapidly
by means of the winch ?n, and the wheel and pinion
n, 0, the middle parts A, B, C, D will, by their cen¬
trifugal force, swell out and sti’ike against the frame at
F and G 5 if the pole e, when sinking, is not stopped
by means of a pin E fixed in the vertical axis. The
hoops, therefore, will have a spheroidal form j the
equatoreal being larger than the polar diameter. Machine
tr T • r • for trying
4. Machine for trying the Strength of Materials, thestreng
469. The piece of wood, whose strength is to be°|a"’ate
tried.
MECHANICS.
bines.
D >riptionis represented by EF, and tbe force is applied to
of it by means of the winch A, which winds up the rope
BC, passing over the pulley w, and below the pulley
and attached to the point I) of tiie beam EF. The
pulleys slide on two parallel bars fixed in a frame, held
down by a projecting point, at G, of the lever GR,
which is graduated like a steelyard, and measures the
force employed. The beam EF is held by a double
vice IK with four screws, two of which are invisible.
When a wire is to be torn it is fixed to the cross bar
LM j and when any body is to be crushed, it must be
placed beneath the lever NO, the rope BC being fix¬
ed to the hook N, and the end O being held down by
the click which acts on the double ratchet OP.—The
lever is double from O to Q, and acts on the body by
a loop fixed to it by a pin. See Young's Nat. Philos.
vol. i. p. 768. from which this drawing and description
are taken.
5. Machine in which all the Mechanical powers are
combined.
C bina- 470. The lever AB, whose centre of motion is C, is
ti of all fixed to the endless screw DE, which drives the wheel
t! r,ow’ ant^ ax^e Round the axle G is coiled a rope
n pow- pasSes round the four pulleys K, L, m, n,
T 2. and is fixed to a hook at m on the lower block, which
carries the weight W. When equal weights are su¬
spended on the lever at equal distances from the ful¬
crum C, the lever becomes a balance, and the wedge
and inclined plane are evidently included in the endless
screw DE. If the wheel F has 30 teeth, if the le¬
ver AB is equal to twice the diameter of the wheel
FH, and if the diameter of the axle G is one-tenth of
the diameter of the wheel, a power of 1 exerted at P
will raise a weight of 2400, suspended at the lower
block of the four pulleys.
6. T idler's Palance.
I er’sba- 47I* The balance represented in fig. 3. was made by
k e. Fuller for the Royal Institution, and does not differ
* 3* much from those which have been constructed by Ramsden
and Trough ton. The middle column A can be raised
at pleasure by the nut B, and supports the round ends
of the axis in the forks at its upper extremity, in order
to remove the pressure on the sharp edges of the axis
within the forks. C and D are pillars which occasion¬
ally support the scales, and may be elevated or depresed
by turning the nut E. The screw F raises or depresses
a weight within tbe conical beam, for the purpose of
regulating the position of the centre of gravity. The
graduated arc G measures the extent of the vibrations.
See Young's Nat. Philos, vol. i. p. 765.
7. Improvement on the Palance.
472. An improvement on the balance is represented
in fig. 4. where DC is a micrometer screw fixed to the
arm FA, so that when it is turned round by the nut D,
it neither approaches to, nor recedes from, the centre
of motion F. The screw DC works in a female screw
m the small weight n, and by revolving in one direc¬
tion, carries this weight from S to R, and thus gives
the preponderance to the scale G. The recession of the
Weight n from the centre F is measured as in the com¬
mon micrometer, and a weight x placed in the scale
133
h :ove-
n t on
l! ba-
hj e.
5-
suspended at A, will be in equilibrio with n placed at Description
any distance S «, when x~ —j~—.—Appendix to Per- Machines.
guson's Lectures.
8. Machine for shewing the Composition of Forces.
473. The part BEFC is made to draw other parts into Machine
the wooden square ABCD. The pulley H is joined to for the. .
BEFC so as to turn on an axis which will be at H when ' "orecs 01
the square BEFC is pushed in, and at p when it is drawn Fig. 4.
out. A ball G is made to slide on the wire k which is
fixed to BEFC,. and the thread m attached to the ball
goes over the pulley to I, where it is fixed. Now,
when the piece BEFC is pulled out, the pulley, wire,
and ball, move along with it, in the direction DCF,
and it is evident that the ball G will slide gradually up
the wire k. It is therefore acted upon by two forces :
one in the direction GH, and the other in the direction
GC, and will be found at the end of the motion at g,
having moved in the direction G g, the diagonal of a
parallelogram whose sides are GH, GC.
9. Smca ton's Machine for e.rperimcntson Windmill Sails.
474. In the experiments with this machine, the sails Apparatus
were carried round in the circumference of a circle, so fo!' wmd-
that the same effect was produced as if the wind had
struck the sails at rest with the velocity which was then 0
given them. In the pyramidal frame ABC is fixed to
the axis DE, which carries the arm FG with the sails
GI. By polling the rope Z, which coils round the barrel
H, a motion of rotation is given to the sails, so that they
revolve in tbe circumference of a circle, whose radius is
DI. At L is fixed a cord which passes round the pul¬
leys M, N, O, and coils round a small cylinder on the
axis of the sails and raises the scale C, in which differ¬
ent weights are placed for trying the power of the
sails, and which, being in the direction of the axis DE,
is not affected by the circular motion of the arm DG.
The scale C is kept steady by the pillars Q, R, and
prevented from swinging by the chains S, T, which
hang loosely round the pillars. \ X is a pendulum
composed of two leaden balls moveable upon a wooden
rod, so that they can be adjusted to vibrate in any given r
time. The pendulum hangs upon a cylindrical wire,
on which it vibrates as on a rolling axis.
10. Smeaton's Machine for experiments on Rotatory
Motion.
475. This machine is exhibited in fig. 1. where the Apparatus
vertical axis NB is turned by the rope M passing over 'or rota-
the pulley R, and carrying the scale S. The axis NB ni°*
can-ies two equal leaden weights K, D, moveable at plate
pleasure on the horizontal bar HI. The upper part N cccxxvm.
of the axis is one half the diameter of the part M, so that Fig. 1.
when the rope is made to wind round N, it acts at
half the distance from the axis, at which it acts when
coiled round M.—When the rope is wound round N,
the same force will produce in the same time but half
the velocity which is produced when the rope coils
round M, the situation of the leaden weights being the
same : But when the weights K, L are removed to a
double distance from the axis, a quadruple force will be
required in order to produce an equal angular velocity
in a given time.
Chap .
MEG H
Chap. II. Machines for various purposes.
i. Pronifs Condenser of Forces.
476. The object of this machine is to obtain a maxi¬
condenser mum effect from an impelling power Vi hicli is subject to
of forces, variation in its intensity. Let us suppose that wind is the
Piute £rgt iriover? anj that O, O is the vertical axis of a wiml-
. ' mill 5 c, e, e, c, are several radii issuing from tills axis,
and carrying a wiper b d, which acts upon the corre¬
sponding wipers a J, and gives a motion ol rotation
to the axis a, a, a, a, to which they are attached.
The wipers b d, a f must be so constructed that when
b d ceases to press on one wiper a it shall at the
same moment begin to act upon the next wiper. Lach
of the axes, <7, a, tf, a, carries a drum t t r r, round
which is coiled a cord tp F, passing over the pulley p,
and supporting a weight Q which can be placed at dif¬
ferent distances from G on the lever FG. The axes
77, 77, 77, a also pass through the pinions q q, to which
they are not fixed 5 but these pinions carry ratchet
wheels that bear against the teeth r r, so that when
the weight Q rises, the rope merely coils round the
drum without moving the pinion q q. But when the
wiper b d ceases to act upon a f the weight Q descends,
and then the toothed wheel r r acts against the ratchet,
so that Q cannot descend without turning the pinion
q q along with the drum. The pinion q q drives the
wheel a b, which again drives the wheel CE by means
of the bevelled teeth CD, and elevates the load at P.
Hence, when the axis 00 is put in motion by the wind
acting on the sails, it Avill first raise a number of weights
Q sufficient to put the machine in motion, and will
continue to raise new weights while those before raised
are fallen, so that the motion once impressed wTill be
continued.
2. Portable Stone Crane,for loading and unloading Carts.
Portable 477. This crane is mounted on a wooden stage, and
vtone crane, is so constructed that it may be taken to pieces. The
Dg- 4. frame A, A, A, A is about ten feet high, nine feet
long and nine feet wride. The wheels B, B are of iron,
and about three feet in diameter. The pinion D that
is fixed to the axis of the first wheel B is eight inches
diameter, and the other pinion C is about the same dia¬
meter. When the stones are suspended to the rope that
coils round the barrel, the workman turns a winch on
the axis of the wheel C, and raises or lowers the weight
according to the direction in which he turns it.
3. Portable Cellar Crane.
Portable 478. This crane is represented in fig. 5. where A, A
oeTlarcrane. are two wooden supports about six feet high, which are
1 ‘S- 5- joined at E, and connected by the iron cylinder C and
the wooden bar D. The supports A, A are fastened
to the edge of the cellar by the iron prongs E, E, and
the two ropes which support the barrel and pass round
it are fixed to the iron clamp G, G. These ropes coil
round the cylindrical bar F, which is put in motion by
the winch K, driving the pinion I about four inches dia¬
meter, which gives motion to the wheel FI, about three
feet in diameter. The barrel, therefore, will rise or
fall according'to the direction in which the winch is
moved.
*34
Description
of
Machines.
Prom's
A N I C S.
4. Weighing Crane. '
479. This crane represented in fig. 6. was invented,Machine
by J\lr Andrews, and weighs the body at the time that
it is raising it. The weight W is elevated by means 01 cccxw
the levers M, N, O, P which coil the rope HR round fig. 6.'
the barrel H. The jib ED stands on a horizontal Andrew
beam moveable in a vertical plane round the centre
FA, and the distance of the upright beam E from the
centre of motion A is -f of B1. I he weight ol the
body W is then ascertained by the W’eight at B, which
keeps it in equilibrio. rlhe piece of Wood C projects
from the vertical beam CT, in order to prevent the
beam from rising too high.
ti.
1
5. Gilpin's Crane.
48a. In fig. 1. where this machine is represented) Gilpin's
AB is the perpendicular stand, formed of two oaken crane, j
planks let into cast iron mortises C, D : Between these
planks is fixed the barrel E with spiral grooves on its
surface, on which the chain RL winds. When the^j..
winch N is put in motion it drives the pinion O, which
again drives the wheel P, on whose axis is fixed the
barrel F, so that the chain is coiled round the barrel
and the weight raised. A section of this part of the
machinery is shewn in fig. 2. Figure 3. shews an en¬
larged view of part of the barrel, and part of the chain
lying in its proper position in the spiral grooves or
channels. In order to prevent the chain from twisting
when it is wound upon the barrel, the lower edge of
one link lies in the groove, and the next link upon the
surface of the barrel. This will be better understood
from fig. 4. which is a section of the barrel F, and
shews the manner in which one link lies within it, and
the other link on its outside. rlhe old method of
working chains is exhibited in fig. 5. For a full ac¬
count of this useful invention, see Nicholson’s Journal,
Vol. xv. p. 126.
6. Bramali's Jib for Cranes.
481. The nature of this invention, for which we are Eramali
indebted to the ingenious Mr Bramah, may be easily jib.
understood from a bare inspection of fig. 6. which re-Hg. 6.
presents a jib attached to the wall of a warehouse. The
jib turns on a perforated axis or pillar. The rope by
which the weight is raised, after passing over tw7o pulleys,
goes through the perforated axis, and is conducted over
another pulley to the barrel of the crane, which is not
represented in the figure. In jibs of the common con¬
struction which turn in two solid gudgeons, the rope
passes over the upper gudgeon, and is confined between
two vertical rollers ; but the bending of the rope oc¬
casions a great deal of friction, and produces a constant
effort to bring the arm of the jib into a position parallel
to the inner part of the rope.
7. Gottlieb's Carriage Crane.
482. This machine, which is useful for caiTying large
stones where carts and horses cannot be easily obtained,
consists of two sorts of crane wheels applied to the two
sets of wheels belonging to the carriage, so that two
men, one acting at each winch A, A give motion to
the loaded carriage. The pinion B, six inches in dia¬
meter turns the wheel C, three feet in diameter. The
wheel € gives motion to the pinion D one foot in dia-
Pht
cccxv
fig. ;
Caning
crane
meter,
I
M E C H A N I C S.
*
i
n
etc;
y
D
J
•ription meter, which works into two wheels E, E three feet
of six inches diameter, and are fixed on the wheels of the
chines^ carriage.
8. Common Jack.
483. The common worm jack is represented in fig. 8.
111011 and is impelled by the weight W, which is suspended to
8, a rope passing through the pulleys V, R, and rolling
round the barrel Q. When the barrel is pat in motion
by the action of the weight, it drives the wheel KL of
6o teeth, by means of a catch fixed to AB, which lays
hold of the ci'oss bars in IvL. The wheel KL drives
the pinion M of 15 teeth, fixed on the axis of the
wheel N of 30 teeth, which gives motion to the end¬
less screw O, and the fly-wheel P. On the axis of the
wheel KL is fixed the pulley DG, which, by means of
a rope, gives motion to the spit. The axis ET is fixed
in the barrel AC; and as this axis is hollow, both it
and the barrel turn round upon the axis ED, so that
the rope may be coiled round the barrel bv the winch
H without moving the wheel K.
9. Loading and Unloading Machine.
‘lldiiw 484. This portable machine, invented by Mr Davis
a- unload-Windsor, is put in motion by the winch A, which
iij71a- drives the two endless screws C, C. These screws
c le. move the wheels E, E, and consequently the barrels
*! connected with them, so that the ropes F, F passing
over the pulleys G, G are coiled round the barrels, and
the load H which these ropes support is raised into the
frame R, R, which shews a part of the cart. The
barrels and wheels are contained in an iron box L, the
sides of which are removed in the figure.
10. Vauloue's Pile Engine.
\
'ijt
loue’s r^^ie h°rse3 ''v'”ch work this engine are yoked
enoine.at S, S, and by moving the wheel B and drum C,
‘late which are locked' together, raise the follower GH, (car-
exxx. rying the ram Q by the handle R), by means ol the
I’ rope HH which coils round the drum. When the fol¬
lower G reaches the top of the frame, the upper legs
of the tongs II are closed by pressing against the ad ja¬
cent beams; and their lower legs are opened, so that
they drop the ram Q, which falls and strikes the pile,
ig. 2. When G is at the top of the frame, the crooked handle
6, of the follower G, presses against the cords a, «,
which raise the end of the lever L (see fig. 2.) round m
as a centre, and by depressing the extremity N, and
consequently the bar S, S, unlock the drum C and the
wheel B, so that the follower G falls by its weight and
seizes the ram R. As soon as the follower drops, the
horses would tumble down, having no resistance to Description
overcome, were not this prevented by the fly O, which of
is moved by the wheel B and trundle X, and ojxposes a Machines,
sufficient resistance to the horses till the follower again l
seizes the ram. When the follower falls, the weight L
(fig. 2.) pushes up the bolt Y into the drum C, and
locks the wheel and the drum 5—and the same operation is
afterwards repeated. SzqFerguson's Lect. vol. i. p. 118.
11. Bunco's Pile Engine.
486. A side view of this engine is shewn in fig. 3, 4. Buncc^s
It consists of two endless ropes or chains A, connected engim?,
by cross pieces of iron B, B, &c. (fig. 4.) which pass
round the wheel C, the cross pieces falling into cor¬
responding cross grooves, cut in the periphery of the
wheel. When the man at 8, therefore, drives the
wheel m by means of the pinion p, he moves also the
wheel C fixed on the axis of m, and makes the double
ropes revolve upon the wheels, C, D. The wheel D is
fixed at the end of a lever DHK, whose centre of mo¬
tion is II, a fixed point in the beam FT. Now, when
the ram L (fig. 3, 5.) is fixed to one of the cross-pieces
B by the hook M, the weight of the ram, acting by
the rope, moves the lever DK round H, and brings
the wheel D to G, so that, by turning the winch, the
ram L (fig. 3.) is raised in the vertical line LRG.
But when it reaches R, the projecting piece R disen¬
gages the ram from the cross piece B, by striking the
bar Q •, and as the weight is removed from the extre¬
mity I) of the lever, the counterpoise I brings it back
from G to its old position at F, and the ram falls with¬
out interfering with the chain. M hen the hook is de¬
scending, it is prevented from catching the rope by
means of the piece of wood N suspended from the hook
M at O 5 for being specifically lighter than the iron
weight L, and moving with less velocity, it does not
come in contact with L till the ram is stopped at the
end of its path. When N, therefore, falls upon L, it
depresses the extremity M of the hook, and therefore
brings the hoop over one of the cross pieces B, by which
the ram is again raised.
487. For the description of a great variety of useful
machines, the reader is referred to the second volume ol
Mr Gregory’s Mechanics, and to Dr Young’s Natural
Philosophy, a work of great merit, which would have
been more particularly noticed if it had reached us be¬
fore the historical part of this article was printed oil.—
See also Hydrodynamics, Marly, Machine at.
Mill, Ramsden, and WArm-Works^ in this Work,
and the articles Attraction and Bridge in the Sup¬
plement.
A.
BUTMENTS, construction of, N° 336
omus's property of the lever,
llembert's principle of dynamics,
ekes, equilibrium of
catenarian,
of equilibration,
’■cood's machine,
B.
<1 lance, its properties,
64
22
316
M9
334
460
INDEX.
Balance, Kuhne’s, N° 151
Magellan’s, 252
Ludlam’s, 153
Fidler’s, 471
improvement on it, 47 2
Bevelled wheels, 4°7
Borelli, works of, J4
C.
Capstone, description of one, 368
142 Carriages, wheel, on the construction of,439
Cellar crane, _ 47 ^
Centre of inertia, or gravity, how to
find it, 4,154,201
Cenlroharijc method, 206, 208
Collision, laws of, discovered by Wren,
&C. 12
of hard bodies, 248—258
of elastic bodies, 258—279
of imperfectly elastic bodies, 279
Condenser of forces, 47^
Conical
130
Conical pendulum,
Constrvatioft of active forces discover¬
ed by Huygens, 19
generalised by I). Ber¬
noulli!, lb.
Coulom b on the force oftorsion, 27,343—357
on friction, 27, 372
on the rigidity of ropes, 382
on the strength of men, 421
Crane, carriage, 482
Gilpin’s, 480
cellar, 47 &
■weighing, 479
Crown wheels, 410
Curves, motion of bodies along, 217
of quickest descent, -231
Cycloid, isochronism of, discovered by
Huygens, 11
properties of it, 23 2
the proper curve for the teeth
of rack work, 411
Cycloidal pendulum, properties of, 236
Cylinders, friction of loaded ones, 372
B.
Domes, equilibrium of, 339
E.
Earth, machine for explaining the flat¬
ness at its poles, 468
Epicycloids the proper curves for the
teeth of wheels, 395
interior, 397
exterior, ib.
method of forming them, 406
F.
.Fidlev's balance, • 471
Fly wheels, 383
Forces, active, dispute about them, 21
Friction wheels, 377
Fusee of a watch, its construction, 99
G.
Galileo, discoveries of, respecting the
science of motion, 8
Gottlieb's antiattrition axletree, 377
Gravity, centre of, 154—201
force of, 247
Gregory, Glinthus, his Treatise on
Mechanics recommended, 28
H.
dc la Hire, on the teeth of wheels, 17
Horses, strength of, 423
method in which they exert it, 449
Huygens, discoveries of, n, 19
Jack, common, 483
Jib, Bramah’s 481
Impulsion. See Collision.
Inclined plane, properties of it, 69
its use in practical mechanics, 83
planes, motion of bodies along, 217
Inertia, centre of, 134—201
Involutes proper for the teeth of
wheels, 405
lever, properties of
MECHANIC S.
N° 394 Lever, various modes of deducing its
fundamental property, N° 63
iEpinus’s property of, 65
compound, 64
M.
Machine, Atwood’s, 4^°
loading and unloading, 477
for shewing the flatness at
the poles of the earth, 468
for trying the strength of
materials, 469
in which all the mechanical
powers are combined, 470
for rotatory motion, 475
for weighing, 479
Machinery, construction of, 358
simplification of, 366
first movers of, 418
Machines, simple, 30
compound, 89
maximum effects of, 298, 359
Mechanics defined, 1
history of, 2
treatise on, 3
Mechanical powers, 30
machine in which they
are combined, 47°
Men, strength of, according to various
authors, 418, &c.
Mersennus, problems proposed by him, 13
Mills driven by water and wind in¬
vented, 5
Motion not propagated instantaneous-
ly, 295, 296
N.
Newton, Sir Isaac, his discoveries, 18
o.
Oscillation of pendulums, 236
P.
Parallelogram of forces discovered by
Stevinus, 6
demonstrated by B.
Bernouilli, 20
of forces, machine for
explaining it, 473
Parent on the maximum effects of
machines, 16
on wind-mills, 430
Pendulum, conical, 394
Percussion. See Collision.
Piers, construction of, 336
Pile engine, Vauloue’s, 485
Bunco’s 486
Prony's condenser of forces, 476
Pulley, properties of it, 100
R.
Hackwork, teeth of, 411
Be flexion of bodies after collision, 2 83-—293
Pope machine, its properties, 84
Ropes, rigidity of, 382
Rotatory motion, three axes of, dis¬
covered by Segner, 26
33—69 Smeaton’s apparatus for, 475
S.
Screw, properties of it, N®
Mr Hunter’s double one,
its use in mechanics,
Semieycloid, the curve of swiftest de¬
scent, 231
Smeaton on wind-mill sails,
Stampers, on the wipers of, 41 j
Statera, Roman, , ^
Banish and Swedish, 21)
Steam, the power of, as a first mover, 423,
. . 42)
engine invented, 10
improved by Savary,
Newcomen, Watt, &c.ib.
Steelyard, 47
Strength of materials, machine for try¬
ing it, 469
of men, 418
of horses, 424
Sutton on wind-mill sails, 434
T.
Table of the strength of first movers, 423
of the strength of men, 418
Teeth of wheels, how to form them, 393
of rackwork, how to form them, 411
Toricelli, labours of, 5
Torsion, force of, 27, 343—357
Traction, line of, 44c
W.
Water-mills, invention of,
Wedge, properties of it, 121
machine for shewing its pro¬
perties, 46'
Wheel and axle, its properties, 9!
carriages, on the construction
’ °f, .. . 43:
on the position of their
wheels, 44
on the size and form of
their wheels, 43
on the position of their
centre of gravity, 45
Wheels, on the formation of the teeth
°f, _ ^ _ 39
bevelled, method of forming
their teeth, 4c
crown, 4 b
friction, 37
%> 3s
Wind.) the power of, as a first mover, 42
A
Wind-mills, invention of,
description of one, 4‘
sails, on the position of, 4:!
on the effect of, 4.
form given them by
Mr Sutton,
horizontal, 4,
comparison between hori¬
zontal and vertical ones, 4
sails, Smeaton’s apparatus
for determining their
power, 4
Wipers ot stampers, how to form them, 4
MECHANIC
MECHANICS
PLATE CCCXVH.
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7
JE/JrM&a/ct Jrst/f *
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ME C HA NIC S.
J'idf.l.
PLATE CCCXX77
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MECHANIC S
PLATE CCCXXIII.
Enjravnl by W. frJJ Law Edin
V/ Af
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ME ( IIANIC S
PLATE
rrrxxv.
Eng $ by J\ZfrOLizars EAniT.
EMh-Ar//7
H Late ('('(' XXX .
?klen-
unr.
M E C 0 i
i kanjsm MECHANISM, either the construction or the ma¬
chinery employed in any thing; as the mechanism of
the barometer, of the microscope, &c.
MECHOACAN, a province of Mexico, or New
Spain, in America, bounded on the north by Pa-
nuco and Guadalajara, on the cast by Panuco and
Mexico Pi’oper, on the south by the Pacific ocean,
and on the west by Guadalajara and the South Sea.
It is about 200 miles in circumference, and its popu¬
lation in 1793 was 289,314. The soil is exceedingly
fertile 5 and the climate so wholesome, that the Span¬
iards imagine it to be possessed of some peculiarly re¬
storative quality ; for which reason the sick and infirm
flock to it from all quarters. The commodities are sul¬
phur, indigo, sarsaparilla, sassafras, cacao, vanelloes,
ambergris, hides, wool, cotton, silk, sugar, the root me-
choacan or white jalap, and silver. This province
formed an independent kingdom at the time Mexico
was reduced by Cortez. The sovereign had long been
the inveterate enemy of the Mexicans, and was consi¬
dered next to the republic of Tlascala, as the most for¬
midable barrier against the extension of the imperial
frontier. However, he submitted to Cortez without
striking a blow, being intimidated by the wonders he
had performed with a handful of men 5 and thus Me-
choacan became a province of the Spanish empire, and
a valuable addition to Mexico. The country at that
time was exceedingly populous, but the natives are now
much thinned. The capital of the province, called
Mechoacan by the natives, but Valladolid by the Span¬
iards, contained 17,093 inhabitants in 1793.
Mechoacan, or White Jalap, in the materia me-
dica, the root of an American species of convolvulus,
brought from Mechoacan, a province of Mexico, in
thin slices like jalap, but larger, and of a whitish co¬
lour. It was first introduced into Europe about the
year 1524 as a purgative : but since jalap became
known, mechoacan has been little employed.
MECKLENBURG, a duchy of Germany, con¬
taining those of Schwerin and Gustro, is bounded by
Pomerania on the east, by part of the marquisate of
Brandenburg and the duchy of Lunenburg on the
south, the Baltic on the north, and Holstein and
Saxe Lawenburg on the wrest. Their greatest length
is about 135 miles, and greatest breadth upwards of
90. With respect to the soil, much cannot be said in
favour of it, as it consists, in general, either of sand,
or large and desolate heaths interspersed with moors,
woods, fens, and lakes. It yields very little wheat,
and not a great deal of oats, rye, and barley; but
breeds a considerable number of sheep and cattle, has
plenty of fish, with stone quarries, salt springs, alum,
iron, and some copper. The principal rivers here are
the Elde and Stor, which fall into the Elbe as it
glides along the borders of this country to the south¬
west 5 the Reckenitz, which discharges itself into the
Baltic; as do the Peene, the Warno, and the Stope-
nitz. This country has only one harbour on the Bal¬
tic, namely that of Rostock. In both duchies, ex¬
clusive of Rostock, are 4 s great and small cities, w'ith
three convents, and a great number of manors and
farms, belonging either to the duke, the nobility, or
convents. The peasants are in a state of villenage $
but the nobility enjoy very considerable privileges,
^ol. XIII. Part I.
37 ]i M E C
The states are composed of the nobility and towns 5 Mecklen
and the diets, which are summoned annually, are held burg,
alternately at Sternberg and Malehin. The duchyyteeonium.
ot Schwerin appoints four provincial counsellors, and
that of Gustro as many j who rank according to se¬
niority', with the duke’s actual privy counsellors, as
their marshals do with the colonels. The lesser com¬
mittee represents the whole body of the nobility and
commons, by whom the members are chosen freely
and without controul, and no edict relative to the
whole country can be published without their consent,
or in prejudice of their rights. The inhabitants of
this country are mostly Lutherans, under their super-
in tend ants.' There are also some Calvinists and Ro¬
man Catholics. Besides the grammar schools in the
towns, there is an university at Rostock. The com¬
modities of the duchy are corn, flax, hemp, hops, wax,
honey, cattle, butter, cheese, wool, and wood, a part
of which is exported ; but hardly any manufactures.
Of the house of Mecklenburg, there are two lines *
still subsisting, viz. that of Schwerin and that of Strelitz.
The latter commenced in Duke Adolphus Frederick II.
younger brother of the duke of Schwerin, and grand¬
father of Adolphus Frederick IV. who entered on the
government in 1752, and whose family received a great
additional lustre by his Britannic majesty’s taking his
second sister for his consort, and by her own great me¬
rit and noble deportment in that high station. Be¬
sides the duchy of Strelitz, to this duke belong the
principality of Ratzeburg, with the lordship of Star-
gard, the ancient commanderies of Miro and Neme-
ro, and a yearly pension of 9000 dollars out of the
Boitzenburg toll. The title assumed by both the dukes
is duke of Mecklenburg; prince of Wenden, Schwe¬
rin, and Jdateburg ; count of Schwerin and the country
of Rostock, and lord of Stargard. By the agreement con¬
cluded at Wittstock in 1442, the elector of Branden¬
burg, on the extinction of the male line of the dukes
of Mecklenburg, is entitled to their whole succession.
The duke of Schwerin has two votes both in the diet
of the empire and that of the circle. The matricular
assessment for the duchies of Schwerin and Gustro is
40 horse and 67 foot, or 748 florins monthly, includ¬
ing what is paid by Sweden for Wismar, and the bai¬
liwicks of Poll and Neukloster. To the chamber of
Wetzlar, these two duchies pay each 243 rix-dollars,
43 kruitzers. For the government of Mecklenburg,
the administration of justice, and the management of
the revenue, there is the privy council of regency, the
demesne chamber, the high and provincial court of ju¬
stice, to which appeals lie in most causes, both from the
consistory and the inferior civil courts, and which are
common to both the dukes. As to the revenues, those
of the Schwerin line must be very considerable, those
arising from the demesne bailiwicks and regalia alone
amounting to 300,000 rix-dollars per annum. There
is a tax on land that produces no contemptible sum,
and that called the priticess's tax is fixed at 20,000 rix-
dollars : besides all these, there are also free gifts.
The whole revenues of the Strelitz branch are estima¬
ted at 120,000 rix-dollars. Each of these princes
maintains a body of troops.
MECONIUM, the excrement contained in the in¬
testines of an infant at its birth.
4 S MEDALS,
[ 138 J
MED
Utility of TV/TEDAL, denotes a piece of metal in the form of
them in Hi- J-VA coin, such as was either current money among the
,st.oiy, ancieiltSj or struck on any particular occasion, in order
to pi-eserve to posterity the portrait of some great per¬
son, or the memory of some illustrious action. Scaliger
derives the word medal from the Arabic metludia; a
sort of coin with a human head upon it. But the opi¬
nion of Vossius is generally received ; viz,, that it comes
from metallum, “ metal j” of which substance medals
are commonly made.
Sect. I. Utility of Medals in History, and various
other Sciences.
There are few studies of more importance to hi¬
story than that of medals *, the sole evidence wre can
have of the veracity of a historian being only such
collateral documents as are evident to every body, and
cannot be falsified. In modern times, these are found
in public memoirs, instructions to ambassadors, and
state papers of various kinds. Such memorials, how¬
ever, are subject to various accidents, and besides com¬
monly remain in the countries where they are first
published, and cannot therefore give to the world
at large that perfect and entire satisfaction which
ought to be derived from genuine history 5 so that
more durable and widely diffused monuments are still
to be wished for. Such are public buildings, inscrip¬
tions, and statues ; but these, excepting a few instances
of the two last, are always confined to particular
countries} so that medals alone remain as infallible
documents of truth, capable of being diffused over all
countries in the world, and of remaining through the
i latest ages.
Various The first who showed the importance of medals in
Kiedals °n ascei’taining ^ie t,tates> and arranging the order of
events, in ancient history, by means of medals, was
Vaillant, in his History of the Kings of Syria, print¬
ed at Paris in 1681. By medals alone, he has been
enabled to fix the chronology and important events of
history, in the three most ancient kingdoms of the
world, viz. Egypt, Syria, and Parthia. Many coins
have been discovered since his time, which confirm the
accounts he has given. He was followed in this me¬
thod by Father Hardouin, though with less success.
Hardouin’s best work is his Tlerodiades, or Scries of
Successors to Herod king of Judaea. The same plan
was pursued by Noris, in his learned Treatise on the
Syro-Macedonian princes, and by Bayer in his His¬
tory of Osrhoene, as well as by Froelich, in the work
entitled Annales Regum et Rerum Syrice, Yien. 1754,
and another named Kevenhullers Regum veteruni Hu-
mismata Anccdota, auct. Ferrara, Vlen. 1752, 4to, of
which Froelich was properly the author. Corsini and
Cary likewise published works of a similar nature 5 the
former in 1744, De Minnifari, aliorutnque Armenice
Regum, Nummis, &c.} the latter in 1752, Histoire des
Reis de Thrace, ct du Bosphore Cimmcrien, cclaircie
par les Me dailies.
AL S.
The study of the Greek coins does not show tlie Utility«
dates of events, though it illustrates the chronology bum in 1
of reigns. This defect, however, is abundantly sup-
plied by those of Rome, which commonly mark the
date of the prince’s consulship, the yeax of his tvi- of tlie
hunician power j giving also, upon the reverse, the re- Greek
presentation or poetical symbol of some grand event.C011!s'
The year of the tribunician power is sometimes ima¬
gined by antiquaries to be synonymous with that of
the emperor’s reign: but this is not the ease ; and
Mr Pinkerton is at some pains to set them right in
this respect. He finds fault with Julius Caesar, when
he assumed the sovereign authority, for taking upon
him the title of Perpetual Dictator, as being synony¬
mous with that of king or absolute governor, which
the Romans abhorred. “ He ought (says our author),
under the disguise of some supreme magistrate of an¬
nual election, to have lulled the people with a dream,
that they might terminate his power when they pleased }
or that he himself would resign it, when the necessities
of state which had required his temporary elevation
had subsided.” To this error Mr Pinkerton ascribes MetlioJ
the assassination of the dictator, and commends the used by
policy of Augustus, who, with far inferior abilities, Augostu-
continued in possession of the most absolute authority
as long as he lived. The tribuneship was an office of
annual election j and if .put into the hands of any
others than plebeians, must have been the supreme
power of the state, as it belonged to that office to put
a negative upon every public measure whatever. Au¬
gustus, being of senatorial rank, could not assume this
office : but he invested himself with the tribunician
power, which had the advantages of appearing to be
only a temporary supremacy, though in truth it was
continued during his whole lifetime. Towards the
end of his reign, he frequently assumed his destined
successor, Tiberius, for his colleague, though in the
beginning he had enjoyed it alone. This, with his
ai’tifice of resigning his power every ten years, and
reassuming it at the desire, as was pretended, of the
senate, secured his sovereignty as long as he lived.—
His example was followed by his successors,j so that
most of them have the inscription Tribunicia Fotcstate
upon their medals, with the date affixed to it thus,
Tr. Pot. VII. Yet though this date generally im¬
plies the year of the emperor’s reign, it sometimes
happens that the emperor, by special favour from a for¬
mer prince, had been endowred with this title before
lie came to the tin-one, as being the successor to that
prince, of which we have already given an instance in
Tiberius. Besides the tribunician power, the empe-
rox-s very frequently enjoyed that of the consuls; and
the date of their consulship is frequently expi-cssed in
their coins.
The office of Pontifex Maximus wTas likewise as¬
sumed by the Roman emperors, in order to secure them¬
selves in their authority; which, Mr Pinkerton ob¬
serves, was one of the most efficacious artifices they
could have fallen upon. “ In the Greek heroic times
(says
2
4
« of me-
ls in geo-
iplly.
5
natural
story.
MED
(says he), king arwl priest were carefully united in one
. person } and when sovereigns arose in Denmark and
Sweden, the same plan was followed, as appears from
Snorro, and.other writers. Nothing could lend more
security to the person of the monarch than an office
of supreme sanctity, which also confirmed his power
by all the terrors of superstition. E%en the Christian
system was afterwards debased by a mock alliance with
government; though it be clear from the whole New
Testament, that such an alliance is subversive of its
genuine institution, and the greatest of all its corrup¬
tions. But the Roman Catholic clergy, in the dark
ages, were the authors of ‘ no church no king,’ for
their own interest; while the Roman emperors only
sought to strengthen their power hy the dark awe of
superstition. The title of Pontifex Maximus was so
important, that it was retained even by the Christian
emperors till the time of Gratian. Its influence in the
state was, indeed, prodigious. Cicero observes, that
to this office were subject, temples, altars, penates,
gods, houses, wealth, and fortune of the people.—That
of augur is also borne hy many- emperors ; and its au¬
thority was such, that hy the law of the twelve tables
no public business could be transacted without a decla¬
ration from the augur concerning its event.—The pro¬
consular powrer was also given to Augustus and the
other emperors. It conferred a direct authority over
all the provinces, and implied the emperor to be chief
proconsul, or governor of each, and of all. Another
special power assigned to the emperors, but not occur¬
ring on coins, was the Jus Relationis Tcrtice, Quarto:,
&c. or the right of making three or four motions in the
senate on the same day, while the senators could only
propose one.
Hence our author infers, that medals afford the
most authentic documents of the Roman history, in
particular, that could have been invented by man.—
The histories of Nerva and Trajan arc much better
elucidated by medals than by authors 5 for the history
of Suetonius ends with Domitian, and the Historic^
Augusta: Scriptores begin with Adrian : so that the
reigns of the twTo emperors just mentioned are almost
unknown; and Mr Pinkerton is surprised that none of
the learned have attempted to supply the defect.—
“ Capitolinus (says he), in his life of Maximinus Ju¬
nior is quite puzzled to know if Maximus and Pu-
pienus were two emperors, or two names for the same.
Had he happened on any of those coins which hear
M. Cl. Pupienus Maximus Aug. he would have
seen at once that Maximus was only another name for
Pupienus.”
Medals are useful in other sciences besides history.
In geography, we find the situation of towns deter¬
mined by their vicinity to some noted river, moun¬
tain, &.c. Thus, MATNHT£IN SinTAOT shows that
Magnesia was situated under Mount Sipylus. In like
manner, it is shown from a medal, that Ephesus stood
on the river Cayster j and there is extant a medal, bear¬
ing an inscription, which signifies Alexandria on the
Scamander } a name given to Troy by Alexander the
Great. The reverse has upon it the famous Apollo
Smintheus of Homer. In natural history also, medals
are useful chiefly from the coins struck on the celebra¬
tion of the secular games, in which the figures of
various animals are preserved j and thus it may very
A L S> 13^
often he determined whether any animal he known to Utility of
the ancients or not. On many of the Greek medalstliem in 111
are several uncommon plants and animals. Thus, on ,stQiy’ &Cc'.
most of the medals of Cyrene is the figure of the ce¬
lebrated Sylphium ; and on those of Tyre, the shell-fish
from which the famous Tyrian purple was procured. 6
By means of medals, also, the exact delineations of hi arehitec-
many noble edifices are preserved, though not even atulc-
vestige of their ruins be now existing ; so that the uses 7
of them to the architect are very considerable. To In the fine
the connoisseur they are absolutely necessary ; because
by them alone he Is enabled to ascribe ancient busts
and statues to their proper persons, with multitudes
of other points of knowledge which cannot be other¬
wise determined. The elucidations of obscure pas¬
sages in ancient authors by means of medals are so nu¬
merous and wrell known, that it is needless to insist up¬
on them.
Mr Addison has treated the connexion betwixt me¬
dals and poetry at considerable length ; but Mr Pin¬
kerton finds fault with him for preferring the Latin
to the Greek poets. He observes also, that the know¬
ledge of Greek medals is most necessary for a sculp- 8
tor, and perhaps an architect: but an acquaintance
with Latin ones is preferable for a poet, or perhaps a^0\j p0,!' '
painter. The reason of this difference is, that the
former generally have on the obverse the head of some
king, god, or goddess, of exquisite relief and workman¬
ship j but the reverse seldom affords much fancy of
symbol in the early Greek coins 5 and in the imperial
Greek coins, is chiefly impressed with the temples of
their deities. To a person of poetical imagination,
however, the Roman coins afford the greatest entertain¬
ment, from the fine personifications and symbols to be
found on their reverses j of which our author gives the
following instances : 9
“ Happiness has sometimes the caduceus, or wand Personifies-
of Mercury, which Cicero, 1. Offic. tells us was thought "
to procure every wish. She has, in a gold coin of Se- ^is.
verus, heads of poppy, to express that our prime bliss
lies in oblivion of misfortune.
“ Hope is represented as a sprightly girl, walking
quickly, and looking straight forward. With her left
hand she holds up her garments, that they may not im¬
pede the rapidity of her pace ; while in her right hand
she holds forth the bud of a flower 3 an emblem infi¬
nitely more fine than the trite one of an anchor, winch
is the symbol of Patience, and not of Hope. This
personification, with some others, must have been very
familiar to the ancients 3 for often in this, and in a few
more instances, no name* as Spes Aug. or the like, is
inserted in the legend.
“ Abundance is imagined as a sedate matron, with
a cornucopise in her hands, of which she scatters the
fruits, and does not hold up her cornucopia; and keep
the contents to herself, as many modern poets and
painters make her do.
“ The emperor Titus, having cause to import a
great supply of corn during a scax-city at Rome, that
supply, or the Annona, is finely represented as a se¬
date lady, with a filled cornucopise in her left hand,
which she holds upright, to indicate that she does not,
however, mean to scatter it, as Abundance has a title
to do, but to give it to Equity to deal out. Thisdast
particular is shown by her holding a little image of
S 3 Equity? ,
140 MEDAL S.
Utility of Equity, known by her scales, and Jiasta purct, or point-
them in Hi-less spear, in her right hand, over a basket tilled with
tory, See. ^ w|ieat. Behind the Annona is the prow of a ship
decked with flowers, to imply that the corn was brought
by sea (from Africa), and that the ships had had a pro¬
sperous voyage. The best poet in the world would not
have given us a finer train of imagery, the best painter
would have been puzzled to express so much matter ill
so small a compass.
“ Security stands leaning upon a pillar, indicative
of her being free from all designs and pursuits ; and
the posture itself corresponds to her name. Horace, in
describing the wise man, mentions his being teres atque
rotundus; round and polished, against all the rules of
chance: an idea seemingly derived from the column
upon which this ideal lady reclines.
“ The emblems of Piety, Modesty, and the like,
are equally apposite and poetical.
“ The happiness of the state is pictured by a ship
sailing before a prosperous breeze : an image than
which the superlative genius of Gray could find none
more exquisite} and he has accordingly used it in his
most capital production “ The Bard,” with due suc¬
cess.
“ The different countries of the then known world
are also delineated with great poetical imagery. It
affords patriotic satisfaction in particular to a Briton,
to see his native island often represented upon the ear¬
liest imperial coins, sitting on a globe, with a symbol of
military power, the labarum, in her hand, and the ocean
rolling under her feet. An emblem almost prophetic
of the vast power which her dominion over the sea will
always give her, provided she exerts her element of
empire with due vigour and perseverance.
“ Coins also present us with Achaia, Africa, Ala-
mannia, Alexandria, Arabia, Armenia, Asia, Bithy-
nia, Cappadocia, Dacia, Dardania, Egypt, Gallia,
Hispania, Italia, Judaea, Macedon, Mauritania, Pan-
nonia, Parthia, Phrygia, Sarmatia, Sicily, Scythia,
Syria, and the rivers Danube, Nile, Rhine, Tiber.
This personification of provinces seems to have arisen
from the figures of provinces carried in triumphs 5 as
the personification of our old poets sprung from the
ideal persons actually represented in the mysterial plays.
“ There is one colonial medal of rude execution of
Augustus and Agrippa, which has a high claim to
merit in displaying the ancient poetical imagery. It
is inscribed Imp. and DlVi. F. and on the reverse, the
conquest of Egypt is represented by the metaphor of
a crocodile, an animal almost peculiar to that country,
and at that period esteemed altogether so: which is
chained to a palm tree, at once a native of the country,
xo. and symbolic of victory.
Medals use- u As the reverses are so useful for knowledge of
ful to a personification, symbols of countries and actions, and
pain er. |_]te . so ^jle portraits to be seen on old coins are
no less important to a painter j the high merit of a
great number of them, in every character, justly en¬
titling them to be regarded as the best studies in the
world. Not to mention, that, to an historic painter, the
science of ancient medals is absolutely necessary, that
he may delineate his personages with the features they
really bore while in existence. This can only be at¬
tained in this way, or from statues and busts ; any one
of w hich will cost as much as hundreds of medals; Enteita
and indeed a collection of such is only attainable by raent fr,
princes. studyii I
The same things which render the study of medals, t*lem' ;
important to a painter, do still more so to a sculptor j n 1
and, in this particular, the study of the Greek coins is To a sc 1
remarkably useful. The skill of the Greeks in the tor-
art of sculpture has always been admired throughout
the world 5 and on their coins the heads of several dei¬
ties are represented in the most exquisite alto relievo.
Our author, therefore, thinks it strange, that tbe Gre¬
cian coins should have hitherto been so little attended
to by men of learning and taste. They may have been
looked upon, he supposes, as belonging only to the
province of the antiquary 5 but he assures us, that the
Greek medals wrill afford satisfaction to the persons who
value them only as pieces of workmanship. In most
respects, they greatly excel those of Rome even in its
best times 5 which our author supposes to have been
from the days of Augustus to Adrian. “ In the days
of Adrian, in particular (says he), the Roman mint
seems to have been the very scat of art and genius $
witness the vast number of exquisite personifications,
engraven with equal workmanship, which swarm on the
medals of that prince. Yet from his time down to
Posthumus, coins of admirable workmanship are to be
found. Those of the Faustinas and Lucilla deserve
particular mention. There is one, and not an uncom¬
mon one, of the latter, in great brass, which yields to
nothing of the kind. The reverse is a Venus with the
name around her. The portrait of the obverse seems
to spring from the field of the coin \ it looks and
breathes, nay talks, if you trust your eyes. The coins
of Tarsus are extremely remarkable for a kind of per¬
spective in the figures, as Froelich observes. On others
are found triumphal arches, temples, fountains, aque¬
ducts, amphitheatres, circi, hippodromes, palaces, basili¬
cas, columns and obelisks, baths, sea-ports, pharoses, and
the like. These furnish much pleasure and instruction
to the architect, and serve to form his taste to the an¬
cient manner j that manner which unites perfect sim¬
plicity with sublimity and grace ; that manner which
every age admires, in proportion as it has genius to
imitate.”
Sect. II. Entertainment arising from tjie Studij of
Medals.
Besides the purposes which the study of medals
answers in the useful arts, a great variety of sources of
entertainment are to be found in it. Mr Pinkerton
observes, that the most barbarous nations are more
pleased with the rudest efforts of art, than with the
most admirable wrorks of nature 5 and that in propor¬
tion as the powers of the mind are large and various,
such are also the pleasures which it receives from those
superlative productions of art, which can only be the
offspring of vast genius. Hence works of art are
agreeable both to the enlightened and to the ignorant.
The chief amusement, therefore, which attends the
study of medals, originates from the strength and spi¬
rit, the finish and beauty, which the engraver has dis¬
played in the execution of them. It besides gives a
kind of personal acquaintance with the persons of whom
they are the representations. Portraits have always
been
A
L S.
MED
crtain-^en hignly entertaining to mankind; and our author
r, t from is of opinion, that the love of them gave rise both to
s ying painting and sculpture. They are nowhere to be
^IIL , found so ancient, so numerous, and so well preserved as
' ^ v ' in medals. Amusement is also derived even from the
representations of ideal heads and persons ; nay, even
from the minutest symbols. Thus the Greek coins of
cities present us with heads of deities of exquisite
workmanship, apparently copied from statues or paint¬
ings ; so that we may even guess at the works of A-
pclles and Praxiteles from some of the Greek medals.
Their reverses aflord still greater variety ; there being
scarce an object either in art or nature which is not
represented upon some of them: and to the satisfac¬
tion arising from a view of these, we may likewise add
that of beholding, in a lively manner, the dresses, man-
ners and customs, religious and civil ceremonies, of
the ancients : so that from medals we may obtain an
interesting history of manners; which, though very
lately cultivated, may perhaps afford the most useful
and entertaining of all the provinces of history.
I2 There is a very considerable difference betwixt the
I rence study of medals and that of a mere antiquary. The
b bt a latter frequently seems to take delight in coins mere-
s n l!is^ ly in proportion to their rust and deformity ; so that
q y it is often a recommendation of some of their pieces,
that neither portrait, x'everse, nor legend, can be dis¬
covered ; at least in such manner as can be intelligibly
explained. “ The delight of the antiquarist (says Mr
Pinkerton), may be called a depraved appetite of the
mind, which feeds on trash, and fills itself with empti¬
ness. It is perhaps a mere childish curiosity mingled
with caprice and hypochondricism. Against this cha¬
racter the ridicule of Severus is particularly shot, but
with little efiect; for our antiquists exceed in visions
and nonsense. I say antiquists ; for the name of anti¬
quary is sacred. By antiquary, in foreign countries,
is implied a man who illustrates their ancient laws,
manners, poetry ; but especially their ancient history.
There, men of the most elevated minds are antiquaries;
as Muratori, Leibnitz, Montesquieu, Du Bos. Here
men of talents will not stoop, forsooth, to studies the
most important to their country, but leave its anti¬
quities to chance. Every thing is important but our
history; aud we are profound in every ancient matter
that is superficial; and superficial in what is profound.
Even England cannot boast of one general historian,
but trusts to the inaccuracy of Itapin, and the igno¬
rant neatness of Hume. It is therefore no wonder
that the study of antiquity is here ridiculous, though
most important in other countries; none requiring
greater talents, learning, or industry. But the histo¬
ric antiquary has the pleasure of benefiting society,
and enlightening whole nations, while the medallic has
only an innocent amusement. This amusement, con¬
sidered merely as rising from antiquarian objects, has
not been explained, though felt by most people, and
more by the learned. It seems analogical with that
which we derive from an extensive prospect: for as
the mind delights to expand itself into distant places,
so also into distant times. We connect ourselves with
these times, and feel as it were a double existence. The
passions are singularly affected by minute circumstances,
though mute to generalities; and the relicks of an¬
tiquity impress us more than its general history.”
Sect. III. History of Medals.
The study of medals is not of very ancient date :
None of the classic writers give any account of collec¬
tions of them; though indeed many little particulars
are passed without notice by them. In the times of
the Greeks, a collection of such coins as then existed
must have been but little regarded, as consisting only
of those struck by the numerous little states which at
that time used the Greek characters and language.
Hence they would have had an air of domestic coin¬
age, and no atttention would have been paid to them,
however exquisite their workmanship might have been.
The little intercourse at that time carried on betwixt
the different provinces also, greatly impeded any com¬
munication of knowledge to those who wrote histories ;
so that it is no wonder to find any small collections
that might then have existed altogether unnoticed by
them. 13
Almost as soon as any communication was opened Greek coins
between the Greeks and Romans, the latter treated
the arts of the Greeks with all due respect and ap- mana
plause. Their coins were imitated by the Romans,
and preserved in cabinets by the senators among their
choicest treasures. Suetonius informs us, that on so¬
lemn occasions Augustus wras accustomed to present
his friends with medals of foreign states and princes,
along with other valuable testimonies of his friendship.
In a more advanced period of the Roman empire,
however, individuals would undoubted!^ form collec¬
tions of coins peculiar to their own state ; for Dr
Stukeley, in his Medallic History of Carausius, in¬
forms us, that a complete series of silver coins was
lately found in Britain, containing all the emperors
down to Carausius inclusively. From Banduri we
also know, that certain Greek coins -were specially
preserved by the Romans ; and it appears from their
code, that ancient gold and silver coins were made use
of instead of gems ; to which distinction those of Sicily
were particularly entitled. From the decline of the
Roman empire till towards the end of the fifth centu¬
ry, almost all branches of literatui’e were involved in.
darkness, and the medallic science among the rest-
While the Christian dominion of Constantinople lasted,
indeed, almost all the arts and sciences may be said to
have been kept within its own boundaries; though
the Arabs and eastern nations had some arts and sci¬
ences of their own : but after the destruction of the
imperial city by the Turks, the Greeks were once more
compelled to become fathers to the European science.
Even before this time, indeed, some vestiges of a revi¬
val of literature had appeared in Italy; and so inti¬
mate and necessary a connexion (says Mr Pinkerton),
has now the study of medals with that of ancient eru¬
dition, that on the earliest appearance of a revival of
the latter, the former was also disclosed.” 14
The first among the moderns who began to study Collectors
the medallic science was Petrarch. Being desired by ot lnea* 5
the emperor Charles I^v . to compose a book contain'-
ing the lives of eminent men, and to place him in the
list, he replied, that he would do so whenever the em¬
peror’s life and conduct deserved it. In consequence
of this conversation, he afterwards sent the emperor a
collection of gold and silver coins bearing the repre¬
sentations
142
MED
History, mentations of eminent men, with an address suitable to
   1 his former declaration. A collection of coins was
made in the next age by Alphonso king of Arragon j
but though this monarch collected all that could be
found throughout Italy, we know that there could not
have been very many, as the whole were contained in
an ivory cabinet, and carried always about with him.
A very considerable collection was made by Anthony
Cardinal St Mark, nephew to Eugene IV. who ascend¬
ed the pontihcal chair in 1431 5 and soon after the
grand museum at Florence ■was begun by Cosmo de
Medici, where a collection of ancient coins and medals
had a place among other curiosities. Corvinus king of
Hungary about the same time formed a noble collec¬
tion of coins along with ancient manuscripts and other
valuable relicks of antiquity.
Mr Pinkerton considers Agnolo Poliziano, more
commonly known by the name of Angelas Politianus,
as the first writer who adduced medals as vouchers of
ancient orthography and customs. He cites different
coins of the Medicean collection in his Miscellanea
written about the year 1490. By means of a cabinet
of medals collected by Maximilian I. emperor of Ger¬
many, Joannes Huttichius was enabled to publish a
book of the lives of the emperors, enriched with their
portraits, delineated from ancient coins. It is gene¬
rally supposed that this book, which appeared in 1 525,
was the first work of the kind •, but Lab be, in his
Bibliotheca Nummaria, mentions another named Ilhis-
tnum Imagines, by one Andreas Fulvius, printed in
1517, in which most of the portraits seem to be from
medals, About the year 1512 also, Guillaume Bude,
a French author, had written bis treatise He Asse,
though it was not printed till many years afterwards.
M. Grollier, treasurer of the French armies in Italy,
during part of the 16th century, had a great collection
of coins of different kinds of metals. After his death, his
brass medals were sent to Provence, and were about to
be sent into Italy; when the king of France, having
got information of the transaction, gave orders to stop
them, and purchase the whole at a very high price for
his own cabinet of antiquities. M. Grollier had an as¬
sortment of gold and silver as well as of brass medals ;
the cabinet in which they were contained fell two
centuries afterwards into the hands of M. I’Abbe de
Bothelin 5 and was known to have been that of Grol¬
lier from some slips of paper, on which was his usual
inscription for his books, Jocnnis Grollicrii, et ami-
corum.
Cotemporary with Grollier was Guillaume de Choul,
who was likewise a man of rank and fortune. He
had a good collection of medals, and published many
in his Treatise on the Religion of the ancient Romans
in 1557. In the Low Countries we know, from the
letters of Erasmus, that the study of medals was begun
about the beginning of the 16th century. About the
middle of that century, Hubertzus Goltzius, a printer
and engraver, travelled over most countries in Europe
searching for coins and medals, in order to publish books
concerning them. From one of these works it ap-
15
Number of
cabinets.
A L S.
pears, that there were then in the Low Countries 206'
cabinets of medals; 175 in Germany, upwards of 380'—-v 5
in Italy, and 200 in France. It is probable, how- ^
ever, that there are now four times aft many in these
countries, besides 500 in Britain ; but we are not to
imagine that all these were grand collections, for of
such there are not above a dozen even in Italy: most
of those just mentioned were of the class named caskets
of medals, containing from 100 to 1000 or 2000.
There are few countries, Italy excepted, in which ^mnbe »
a greater number of coins have been found than inf01"8? *
Britain ; though we arc by no means well acquainted
with the time when the study of them commenced.
Mr Pinkerton suspects that Camden was one of the
first, if not the very first British author, who produced
medals in his works, and who must have had a small
collection. Speed’s Chronicle, published in the 17th
century, was illustrated with coins from Sir Robert
Cotton’s cabinet. Gorkeus’s collection was purchased
by Henry prince of Wales, brother to Charles I. to
whom he left it at his death. According to Joseph
Scaliger, it consisted of 30,000 coins and medals. A
collection of 550c coins was purchased by Archbishop
Laud for 600I. and given to the Bodleian library.
Thomas earl of Arundel, earl-marshal of England,
well known from the Arundelian tables and other an¬
tiquities v.'hich he imported from Greece and Italy in¬
to Britain, had a rich cabinet of medals collected by
Daniel Nisum. The dukes of Buckingham and Ha¬
milton, Sir William Paston, Sir Thomas Fanshaw of
W7 are-Park, Sir Thomas Hanmer, Ralph Sheldon,
Esq. Mr Selden, &c. are enumerated by Evelyn as
collectors of medals. Charles I. as well as his histo¬
rian the earl of Clarendon, were also collectors. The
king had a very fine cabinet ; which, however, was
dissipated and lost during the civil commotions. Oliver
Cromwell had a small collection ; and the cabinet of
Charles II. is mentioned by Vaillant in the preface to
his treatise entitled “ Nummi in Cohniis^'' &c. This
branch of magnificence has not been much attended to
by succeeding British monarchs ; though his present
majesty has a very good collection of ancient gold
coins. ; 11
A great number of fine cabinets have been formed Britisll
in Britain since the time of Evelyn. About the yearca,)iiil 1
1720, Haym makes mention of those of the duke of
Devonshire, the earls of Pembroke and Winchelsea,
Sir Hans Sloane, Sir Andrew Fontaine, Mr Sadler,
Mr Abdy, Mr Wren, Mr Chicheley, and Mr Kemp.
At present there are many remarkable collections ;
hut that of the late Dr William Hunter is deservedly
esteemed the most remarkable in Europe, excepting
that of the late French king. Is was not only formed at
a great expence, but with much care and ability ; many
foreign medals offered to it having been rejected
(a). The other remarkable collections are those of the
duke of Devonshire, the earl of Pembroke, Earl Fitz-
william, formerly the marquis of Rockingham’s, the
honourable Horace Walpole, the reverend Mr Crach-
rode, the reverend Mr Southgate, Mr Townley, Mr
(a) This collection, as well as the rest of Dr Hunter’s Museum, is now in the possession of the university eff
Glasgow, to which it was bequeathed by the doctor’s will.
MED
0i|iat R. P- Knight, Mr Edward Knight, Mr Tyson, Mr
cojif tied Barker, Mr Brown, and several others. The British
'— —' museum and universities in England have also collec¬
tions j as well as the Advocates library, the Antiquari¬
an Society, and the universities in Scotland.
Sect. IV. Alatct'ials of which Aledals are constructed.
Aac t Medals are formed of gold, silver, and the various
gold ins. modifications of copper. The gold usually made use
of in coinage is about the fineness of 22 carats ; and
as the art of purifying this metal was very much un¬
known in former times, the most ancient ’ medals are
for this reason much more impure than the modern
coins. Gold is never found in its native state above
22 carats fine j and the very ancient medals are
much under that standard. Many of them are composed
of a mixture of gold and silver, called by the ancients
ek’d rum. The gold medals were made of much finer
metal after Philip of Macedon became possessed of the
gold mines of Philippi in Thrace, and the medals of
his son Alexander the Great are equally fine ; as well
as those of some other princes of that age. Those of
the Egyptian Ptolemies are of the fineness of 23
carats three grains, with only one grain of alloy. The
Roman coins are very pure even from the earliest times;
the art ol refining gold being well known before any
was coined at Rome* Some authors are of opinion,
that the Roman coins begin to fall short of their pu¬
rity after the time of Titus j but Mr Pinkerton de¬
nies that any thing of this kind takes place till the
time ol the emperor Severus ; and even then only in
a very few instances. Most of the Roman gold was
brought from Dalmatia and Dacia, where that metal
is still to be met with. A very remarkable circumstance
is observed in the eastern part of Hungary, which be¬
longed to the ancient Dacia. It germinates in the
vines of Tokay, and is found in their stems j as it is
L ^ elsewhere in the straw of corn.
<1 f Pfiny informs us, and indeed it is generally known,
run that gold and silver are found mixed together in the
earth. Where the silver amounted to one-fifth part of
the gold, the metal was called electj'um ; but sometimes
the quantity ol silver was added artificially. The gold
was in those days as well as at present refined by means
of mercury ; and the ancient artists had certainly at¬
tained to great perfection in this branch of metallurgy j
as Bodin tells us, that the goldsmiths of Paris upon
melting one of Vespasian’s gold coins found only T!~g-
part of alloy.
jtsiU. Most of the ancient silver, particularly that of Greece,
ter. is less pure than that of succeeding times j even the
Roman silver is rather inferior to the present standard,
and that from the very beginning ; but in the time of
Severus, the silver appears very bad, and continues so
until the time of Dioclesian. Many writers upon this
subject have mistaken the denarii <erei\ u coins of brass
washed with silver,” for silver currency. Silver coins
are extremely scarce from the time of Claudius Gothi-
c-us to that of Dioclesian, or from the year 270 to
284 : in which short space no fewer than eight empe¬
rors reigned. Silver at that time was found mostly in
^pain ; and the commerce with that country was di¬
sturbed by the usurpers who arose in Gaul ; and such
were the troubles of the times, that not only the silver
A L S. 143
but also the gold coins of those eight emperors, ate cfwbat
extremely scarce. Ihere is still, however, some silver constructed
extant ot these eight emperors 5 and it is certain, that 
copper washed ryas never used as silver currency, but
was entirely a distinct coinage. Occasional deprava-
trons of sih er had taken place long before 5 as Pliny
tells us, that Mark Antony mixed iron with his silver
denarii ; and Mr Pinkerton informs us, that he had
seen a denarius of Antony, which was attracted by a
magnet. ’ J
I he ancient brass coins consist of two kinds : the Ancient
red or Cyprian, which indeed is no other than copper; Inass.
and the common yellow brass. Our author observes,
that in the Roman coinage brass was of double the
value of copper, and he is of opinion, that it wras the
same among the Greeks; and the latter is the metal
most commonly made use of rn the Greek coinage*
i he Roman sestertii was always of brass : the middling-
sized kind are partly copper and partly brass j the for¬
mer being double the value of the latter, which are the
ases.
Mr Pinkerton next proceeds to give an account of Mixed me
the mixed metals used among the Romans. In Bri-ta^-
tain all kinds of coins made of mixed metal are with¬
out hesitation alleged to be forgeries 5 although it is
certain that the variety of mixed metals used in coin¬
age was very considerable* The most valuable mix¬
ture was that of gold and silver, already mentioned, na¬
med electrum ; the silver commonly amounting to one-
fifth part of the gold made use of, or perhaps more.
Of this mixture are many of the early coins of Lydia,
and some other Asiatic states j also those of the kings
of the Bosphorus Cimmerius, during the imperial ages
of Rome. Next to the electrum were the coins of
Corinthian brass: but Mr Pinkerton informs us, that 2^
not a single coin was ever struck of this metal by the Corinllliau
ancients ; it having been constantly employed only in
the fabrication of vases or toys. It was in use at any
rate only for a very short time 5 being altogether un¬
known in the days of Pliny the Elder. Our author
therefore ridicules those who pretend not only to find
out imperial coins of this metal, but to discover three
kinds of it 5 viz. one in which the gold predominates,
another in w hich the silver prevails, and a third when*
the brass is most conspicuous. He gives ./Eneas Vico,
one of the most ancient writers on medals, as the au¬
thor of this idea 5 but whose opinions were confuted
by one Savot, a writer in the 17th century. Vico
mentions a coin of this kind struck under Augustus,
another of Livia, and a third of Claudius. The mis¬
take, he is of opinion, arose from the circumstance of
the first propagator not being able to account for the
various mixtures and modifications of brass observable
in ancient coins of the large size $ and w'hich in so
common a metal appear veiy odd to the moderns.
Besides the authority of Pliny and other antiquaries of
a more modern date, who all declare that they never
saw a single medal of Corinthian brass, or of that metal
mixed with silver and gold, our author adduces another
evidence which he looks upon to be superior to either j
viz. that those who have given into this supposition,
imagine, that the large pieces called sestertii, and others
called dupondiarii, worth about twopence or a penny,
are said to have been composed of this precious metal.
It is unreasonable to think, that any proportion of
24
Egyptian
£44. MED
gold or silver could have been made use of in these.
The coins said to have been struck upon Corinthian
brass are only done upon a modification of common
brass } of which we know, that in proportion to the
quantity of zinc made use of in conjunction with the
copper, the metal assumes a variety of hues. On the
authority of Pliny he informs us, that the coins mis¬
taken for Corinthian brass wei’e no other than prince’s
metal.
The Egyptian silver coins struck under the Roman
silver coins, emperors are at first of tolerably pure silver j but af¬
terwards degenerate into a mixture of copper and tin
with a little silver. They are very thick, but many
of them are elegantly struck, with uncommon reverses.
There are likewise three sets of brass coins belonging
to this country from the earliest times of the Roman
emperors there. Some of these are of bell-metal or
pot-metal 5 and after the time of Gallienus and Vale¬
rian, the coinage of brass with a small addition of sil¬
ver, becomes authorised by the state ; the coins struck
upon it, being called denarii cerei. Those of lead or
copper plated with silver have been fabricated by Ro¬
man forgers. Some coins of lead, however, have been
met with of undoubted antiquity: and an ancient wri¬
ter informs us, that tin money was coined by Diony¬
sius j but none has been found. The lead coins of
Tigranes king of Armenia, mentioned as genuine by
Jobert, are accounted forgeries by Mr Pinkerton and
other modern medallists. Plautus, however, makes
mention of leaden coins, and several of them have been
found ; but our author looks upon them to have been
chiefly essay pices, struck in order to let the artist
judge of the progress of the die. Others are the plated
kind already mentioned, fabricated by ancient forgers,
hut having the plating worn off. A great number of
leaden coins are mentioned by Fricorini in a work en¬
titled Piojnbi Antichi, in which he supposes them to
have served as tickets for guests $ and coins of the
same kind are also mentioned by Passeri. In the work
entitled Notitia Imperii Romani, there is mention of
coins made of leather, but none of them have ever been
found.
Sect. V. Of Ancient Money.
In considering the different sizes, values, &c. of the
Greek and Roman coins, our author treats of the me¬
dals as money } a knowledge pf which, he says, is es¬
sentially necessary to every reader of the classics j inso-
j- much that it may almost dispute the preference with
Knowledge the studies of ancient geography and chronology. Not-
ot' ancient withstanding all that has been written upon the sub¬
money im- jett^ hoover, our author is of opinion, that the science ,
is still in its infancy, in as far as it relates to the real
money of the ancients. “ The ideal (says he), which
is indeed the most important province of discussion, has
been pretty clearly ascertained *, and we are almost as
well acquainted with the Attic mna or mina, and the
perplexing progress of the Roman sestertia, as with our
own pounds. But with the actual coin of the ancients
the case is different; and the ignorance even of the
learned in this point is wonderful.”
Our author now goes on, with great asperity of
language, to particularize the ignorant manner in which
modern authors have treated the subject of medals.
3
A L S.
“ Arbuthnot and Clarke (says he), ar£, if possible, inoce
ignorant of medals than Budseus the very
latter professes his love of medals, but quotes a con¬
sular coin with the head of Cicero; and looks upon
one of the 30 pieces of silver, the reward of the treach¬
ery of Judas, and which was said to be preserved
among some relicks at Parts, to be worthy of reference
and commemoration. Arbuthnot, if we may judge
from his book, had never seen any ancient coins ; and
Clarke, it is well known, was quite ignorant of them.
The latter, with all his labour, seems even to have
known nothing of the theoretic part of the real ancient
money. Indeed Dr Mead’s catalogue seems to have
been almost the only book on medals which had under¬
gone his perusal. On the other hand, the ignorance
of medallists on this score is no less profound. To
this day they look upon the didrachms of iEgina, so
celebrated in antiquity, as tridrachms of iEgium j and
upon the early obolus as a brass coin. In the Roman
class the large brass is esteemed the as, while it shall
be proved that it is the sestertius, and worth four uses.
The denarius is reckoned at ten ases even in the impe¬
rial times j whereas it only went at that rate for the
first 90 years after the coinage of silver at Rome.
The denarius sereus is taken for silver currency 5 with
other mistakes, which evince that medallists are as ig¬
norant of the theory, as the others are of the prac¬
tice.” ^
In his account of the ancient Greek money, Mr
Pinkerton observes, that the light of science, like that
of the sun, has proceeded from east to west. “ It is
most probable (says he), that the first invention of
money arose like the other arts and sciences j and
spread from thence into the western parts of the world. ^
In its first shape it appeared as mere pieces of metal Its first
without any stated form or impression ; in lieu of rude sta
which, it was regulated by weight. Even down to
the Saxon government in England, large sums were
regulated by weight 5 and in our own times every single
piece is weighed in gold } though with regard to silver
this nicety is not minded, nor indeed does it seem
pi-acticable. Among the ancients, whose commercial
transactions were less important and extensive than
those of the moderns, silver was weighed as well as
gold ; nay even brass in some cases. 2s
In Greece, large sums were determined by mnee or Greek r
mince; and the most capital sums by talents. In every uey
country the mina is supposed to have contained too
drachmae, or small silver coins, of that country, and
the talent 60 minae. The mina is supposed to be a
pound weight of the country to which it belonged.
The Attic pound, according to Dr Arbuthnot, con¬
tained 16 ounces, equal to our avoirdupois pound:
but Mr Pinkerton looks upon this as a very absurd
opinion, and accuses the doctor of having adopted it
merely that he may explain a passage in Livy. He is
of opinion, that the Attic pound is very nearly the
same with the pound Troy. The mina of Athens had
at first 73 drachms } but by Solon it was fixed at 100.
The ancient drachm weighed the same which it does
at present in medical weight, viz. the eighth part of
an ounce. The mina or pound of 12 ounces had con¬
sequently 96 of these drachms 5 but four of them were
given to the round sum to supply defects in the alloy;
“ and indeed (says our author), in consequence of a
common
Ar :«t
M E D
common practice in all ages ami in all - countries, of
_M ■)'. giving some addition to a large weight. Thus the
—• pound in weight had but 96 drachmae in fact, while
the pound in tale had 100 j as the Homan libra in
weight had but 84 denarii, in tale 1085 and as our
pound in tale, by an inverse progress, is not a third of
our pound in common weight.
Notwithstanding the very severe criticism on Dr
Arbuthnot just mentioned, however, we find our au¬
thor adopting his account of the talents used in coin¬
age in several countries. Thus, according to the
doctor,
Oftl ao-
rieni
tents
The Syrian talent had
Ptolemaic
Antiochian
Euboean
llabylonian
Larger Attic
Tyrian
Egyptian
AEginean
Khodian
15 Attic minse
20
60
60
70
So
80
80
100
100
Notwithstanding the concession made here by Mr
Pinkerton to the doctor, he tells us, that he very much
'questions this list of talents, and that many ancient
writers are little to be relifcd upon. “ Writers on
this subject confess, that the numbers in all ancient
manuscripts are the parts most subject to error, as be¬
ing almost always contracted. They ought to allow
that the authors themselves must often be liable to
wrong information.
“ Herodotus mentions, that King Darius ordered
gold to be paid into his treasury by the Euboic ta¬
lent, and silver by the Babylonian. The Euboic is
esteemed the same with that called afterwards the At¬
tic ; and as we estimate gold by carats, so it is natu¬
ral to suppose, that the most precious metal would be
regulated by the most minute weight. But I con¬
fess I take the Babylonic talent to be the same with
that of Aigina. Mr Raper has proved the first coins
of Macedon to be upon the standard of jflEgina. Now
the early Persian coins are upon that very scale, the
largest tetradrachms weighing from 430 to 440 grains.
Hence it follows, that the Persian silver coins were of
the iEginean standard} and the payment was certainly
to be made according to the standard of the money.
The larger Attic talent was of 80 lesser minae ; because
the larger Attic mina was of 16 ounces. The Alex¬
andrian talent, according to Festus, consisted of 12,000
denarii, being the same with that used by the Egyp¬
tian kings in their coins ; and is shown by Mj: Baper
to have been the same with the talent of TEgina. Per¬
haps the whole of the ancient coins of Asia, Africa,
Lreece, Magna Grcecia, and Sicily, are reducible to
three talents or standards. 1. That ofiEgina, used in
most of the more ancient silver coinages j as would
seem in even the later of Egypt, Carthage, Cyrene,
&c. 2. The Attic (being the Asiatic gold standard,
idtenvards used by Phidon king of Argos in estimat-
mg gold, and called Euboic from Euboea, one of the
quarters of the city of Argos), used in Athens and
the greater part of the world as the standard both of
gold and silver. 3. The Doric or Sicilian talent ol
<24 nummi, each worth an obolus and a half; whence
VoL. XIII. Part I. +
A L S. U3
the talent is estimated at six Attic drachms or three Ancient
dancs. Ihese weights continued to be the standard of Money,
money after it began to be distinguished by impression ;' v~ '-r
nay, to the fall ot Greece and prevalence of the Roman
empire.”
/' • v T 3°
homage, according to Herodotus, was first invent- Coinage
ed by the Lydians, from whom the Greeks quickly re-?ri£inates
ceived it. The former could not have received it from 111 Ly*1***
the Persians, whose empire did not begin till 570 B. C.
though cur author supposes that it might have pro¬
ceeded from the Syrians, who carried on commerce in -r
very ancient times. Ihe most ancient Greek coins of^ost ancf-<
silver have an indented mark upon one side, and a tor-en.t Greek
toise upon the other ; and those of the greatest antiquity scribed6'
have no letters upon them. Those of later date havebCU C "
A IT! marked upon them, which medallists interpret of
JEgium in Achaia ; being led into that supposition by
the tortoise, which they look upon as a sure mark of
the Peloponnesus. But though our author agrees that
the tortoise was so, he thinks that they are otherwise
very far wrong in their conclusions. yEgium in Achaia
was a place of no consequence till the times of Aratus
and the Achaean league ; hut there are 11 of these
coins in Dr Hunter’s cabinet, which show that they
must have been struck in times of the most remote
antiquity, and that the place where they were struck
was rich and flourishing at the time. The coins we
speak of are not common; but those which have the
name AirEIJiN at full length, and which may perhaps
belong to /Egium in yVchaia, are extremely scarce;
insomuch that in all Dr Hunter’s vast collection there
are not above one or two. They are likewise con¬
structed upon a scale quite dift’erent from all other
Grecian money; being of 8, 13, 15^, 90, and about
186 grains. The Grecian drachma at an average is
66 grains ; and Mr Pinkerton thinks it would have
been strange if pieces had been struck of eight-tenths
of an obolus, of an obolus and a half, or of a drachma and
a half. yEgium being originally an obscure village,
could not be the first which coined money : so that
Air Pinkerton supposes the name AIFI to have stood
for TEgialus, the ancient name of Sieyon, a wealthy
and powerful city; or rather AEgina, the mint of
which was much celebrated, and perhaps the most an¬
cient in Greece.
Other arguments in favour of these coins being de¬
rived from vEgina, are drawn from their weight as well
as their workmanship, which are quite different from
those bearing the name of AEgium at full length.
The coinage of iEgina is known to have been different
from that of the rest of Greece; insomuch that its
drachma was worth 10 Attic oboli, while the Attic
drachma was valued only at six. Hence the drach¬
mas of yEgina were name'd by the Greeks n-tocsitzv, or
thick ; a name very applicable to the coins in question.
From these observations, our author is of opinion, that
we may even distinguish the precise weight of the an¬
cient coins of AEgina. According to the exact pro¬
portion, the drachma of this place should weigh ex¬
actly 100 grains ; and one of them very much rubbed
weighed above 90. The others of larger size, which
seem to be didrachms of yEgina, weigh from 181 to
194 grains ; but the latter being the only one he could
meet with in good preservation, it was impossible to
form anv just medium. Even in those best preserved,
• J T
146
Ancient
Money.
MEDALS.
3»
he thinks that 10 grains may be allowed for a waste
of the metal in so long a time, as 2400 years, which
would bring the drachma of iEgina near its proper
standard. The oholus of JEgina was in proportion
to its drachma of six oboli. It is the piece of 15^
grains, and 13 when very much rubbed* The hemi-
obolon is that of eight, but when rubbed it falls short of
this weight.
The general denomination of the Greek money is
The drac i- ^ drachma, or eighth part of an ounce ; which to this
general de-day is retained in the medical weights, the Lxrecian
nomina- coins receiving the names they bore from their weights :
tipn- though in some instances the weights received their
appellations from the coins. The silver drachma, ac¬
cording to Mr Pinkerton, was about ninepence ster¬
ling ; and he finds fault with those who make the
drachma and denarius both equal to one another, the
latter being no more than eightpence. The didrachm
of silver, according to the same calculation, was worth
18d. ; but the tridrachm occurs very rarely : and Mr
Pinkerton is even of opinion, that medallists give this
name to the didrachm of iEgina. The largest of all
the Grecian coins is the tetradrachm, which on the
iEginean standard is worth five shillings \ but in those
of the other states only four. There are, however,
many subdivisions in the silver drachma; the highest
being the tetraobolion or coin of four oboli j being in
proportion to the drachma as our groat to a sixpence,
weighing about. 44 grains, and being in value about
sixpence. The hemidrachm or triobolion comes next
in value, weighing about 33 grains, and worth four-
pence halfpenny. The silver diobolion, or third of
the drachma, weighs about 22 grains, and is worth
threepence. The obolus of silver weighs about 11
grains, and is worth only three halfpence. There is
likewise a hemiobolion in silver, or half the obolus,
of five grains and a half, value three farthings : and
another called tetraobolion dichalcos or quarter obolus,
which is the most minute coin yet met with ; and by
reason of its extreme smallness, weighing only two
grains and a quarter, is new very scarce: but there
is one in the cabinet of Dr Hunter, and some more
have been lately brought from Athens hy Mr Stuart.
Some of them are likewise met with at Tarentum.
It would appear, however, that there rvere some still
smaller, and of value only three-fourths of a farthing.
None of these have been met with ; and the smallness
of the size renders it improbable that any will ever be
met with •, as the peasants, who commonly discover
coins, would probably either not observe them at all,
or, if they did, would neglect them as things of no
value.
Many different names have been imposed on the
coins belonging to the different states of Greece: thus
Kog>i, the maiden, was a name often applied to the te¬
tradrachm, and which would seem to apply to those
of Athens ; though there are coins of other cities with
the head of Proserpine, and the word K«g>j, to which
it would appear more applicable in our author’s opi¬
nion. XiXun, the shell, was the name of another coin,
from its type. A Sicilian coin was named
from Gelon’s wife. A tetradrachra was named
and had eight tvfaias or hemidrachms.
The T^arwicv, so called from its country Troizene,
had Pallas on one side and a Undent on the reverse.
Diftereut
Karnes ot
Greek
coins.
The hemiobolion was the ureXavcg of Laccduemon; and
the k&WvZos is supposed to have been equal to the Mone;
Homan sestertius or quarter drachma. The cystojihori
were coins with the mystic chest or hamper of Bacchus
upon them, out of which a serpent rises 5 and are much
celebrated in antiquity. We are told hy Livy, that
Marcus Acilius, in his triumph over Antioch us and
the /Etolians, carried off 248,000 of them; Cneius Man¬
lius Yulso in that over Gallo-Grsecia had 250,000 •,
and Lucius Emilius Regillus, in his naval triumph over
the fleets of Antioehus, had 131,300. Cicero like¬
wise mentions his being possessed ol a vast sum in them.
The most probable opinion concerning them seems to
he, that they are all silver tetradrachms *, such as be¬
long to the cities of Apamea and Laodicea in Phry¬
gia } Pergamus in Mysia 5 Sardis and Tralles in Ly¬
dia and Ephesus ; hut it is a mistake to ascribe any
to Crete. Mr Pinkerton thinks it absurd to imagine
that Crete, a small island, should strike such vast num¬
bers of coins 5 though Cicero mentions his being iu
possession of an immense treasure in them at the time
he was governor of Asia Minor. “ It is most likely
(says Mr Pinkerton), that his wealth should be in the
coin of the country to which he belonged. But what
had these triumphs of Cicero’s government to do with
Cretan money ? But indeed the coins themselves, as
above noticed, establish the fact.” jl
Another set of coins famous in antiquity were those ^oim'
of Cyzicus in Mysia, which were of gold j but they J
are now almost entirely vanished by being recoined in
other forms. The tcyao-px, or money oj Ary-
andes, who was made governor of Egypt hy Cam-
byses, is made mention of hy Hesychius j but none of
them, as far as is known, have reached our times.
They must have been marked with Persian characters,
if with any. The coin of Queen Philistis is mentioned
by the same writer, and many of these pieces are still
extant j but we know not where this queen reigned,
nor does there seem to be any method ol finding it
out. Mr Pinkerton inclines to believe, that she pre¬
sided over Sicily; and as a confirmation of that sup¬
position, mentions some inscriptions of BASIAISSAS
^lAISTIAOS on the Gradinioithe theatre at Syracuse;
hut which appear not older than the Roman times.
Some authors are of opinion, that she reigned in Cos-
sara or Malta ; which our author thinks much more
improbable. ;
The most particular attention with regard to theAtlicn
names and standard of coins is due to those of Athens;CCIE),|
and it is most remarkable, that most of them which have
reached us are of a very late period, with the names of
magistrates inscribed upon them. Some of these bear
the name of Mithridates; and few are older than the
era of that prince ; who, it is well known, took the
city of Athens in his war with the Romans. I suspect
(says Mr Pinkerton), that no Athenian coins of silver
are posterior to Sylla’s infamous destruction of that city;
an event the more remarkable, as Sallust tells us, that
Sylla was learned in Greek. Indeed Caligula, Nero,
and most of the pests of society, have been learned men,
in spite of a noted axiom of Ovid,
iS'ed ingenuas didicisse feliciter aides
Emollit mores, nee si nit esseferos.
It is still more remarkable, that the fabric of Athe¬
nian
MEDALS.
Am) nt
Mel y-
Creel' op
^ perm
*(• 1
tj I
‘I ii
t r
^ Of th
of elialci
aian coins is almost universally very rude ; a singular
circumstance, if we reflect how much the arts flourish¬
ed there. It can only be accounted for from the ex¬
cellence of their artists being such as to occasion all
the good ones to be called into other countries, and
none but the bad left at home. In like manner, the
coins sti’uck at Home in the imperial times are excel¬
lent, as being done by the best Greek artists; while
those of Greece, though famous at that time for pro¬
ducing miraculous artists, are during that period com¬
monly of very mean execution. The opulence of A-
thens in her days of glory was very great; owing in
an eminent degree to her rich commerce with the king¬
doms on the Euxinesea, carried on chiefly from Delos,
which belonged to Athens, arid was the grand centre
of that trade.” Hence it has become matter of sur¬
prise to Neumann, that when there are so many coins
of Mycene, an island even proverbially poor, there
should be none of Delos. Rut Mr Pinkerton accounts
for this from MyCene’s being a free state, and Delos
subject to Athens. “ It may be well supposed (says
he), that Athens had a mint at Delos; and such A-
thenian coins as have symbols of Apollo, Diana, or La-
tona, were struck in this island.”
The copper money of the Gi’eeks is next in anti¬
quity to the silver. Mr Pinkerton is of opinion, that
it was not used at Athens till the 26th year of the Pe¬
loponnesian war; about 404 years before Christ, and
300 after silver was first coined there. The first cop¬
per coins were those of Gelo of Syracuse, about 490
b. e.
The chalcos of brass, of which eight went to the
silver obolus, seems to have been the first kind of
Creek coin. At first it was looked upon as of so little
consequence, that it became proverbial; and to say
that a thing was not worth a chalcos, was equivalent to
saying that it was worth nothing. As the Greeks be¬
came poor, however, even this diminutive coin was sub¬
divided into two, four, nay eight Ximcc. or small coins ;
but our author censures very severely those who have
given an account of those divisions. “ Pollux, and Sui-
d'as copying from him (says he), tell us, that there were
sfeven lepta to one chalcos ; a number the most unlikely
that can be, from its iridivisibility and incapacity of pro¬
portion.
“ Pollux lived in the time of Coinmodus, so was too
late to be of the smallest authority : Suidas is four ox-
five centimes later, and out of the question. Plinv tells
us, that thex-e were ten chalci to the obolus; Diodo¬
rus and Cleopatra that there were six ; Isidorus says
there were four: and if such writers differ about the
larger denomination, ive may well imagine that the
smaller equally varied in diflex-ent states ; an idea sup¬
ported by these undeniable witnesses, the coins which
remain. Most of the Greek copper coin which has
reached our times consists of chalci; the lepta being
so small as to he much mox-e liable to be lost.” In Dr
Hunter’s cabinet, however, there are several of the di-
lepta ol Athens: and from being stamped with the
representation of two owls, seem to be the same with
the silver diobolus : “ a circumstance (says Mr Pinker¬
ton), of itself sufficient to confute Pollux ; for a dilep¬
ton can form no part of seven ; a number indeed which
never appeax-ed in any coinage of the same metals, and
is contradictory to common sense. It mav be observ-
x47
Ancient
Money.
ed, that the whole brass coins of Athens published
by Dr Combe are reducible to loux* sizes, which may
be the lepton, chlepton, tetralepton or hcmichalcos, and
chalcos. The first is not above the size of one of King Lepton,
James I.’s farthing tokens; the last about that of ourchlcpton,
common farthing.” The lepta was also called
as being change for the poor. The perhaps
so called from the figure of a wolf upon it, was the coin
of a pai txcular state, and if ot brass must have weighed
thi-ee chalci. The other names of the copper coins of
Greece axe hut little known. Dycurgus ordered iron
money to be coined at Sparta; but so perishable is this
metal, that none of that kind of money has x-eached our
times.
After the conquest of Greece by the Remans, most
of the coins ot that country diminished very much in
their value, the gold coinage being totally disconti¬
nued : though some of the barbarous kings who used
the Greek character were permitted to coin gold,
hut they used the Roman model ; and the standard
used by the few cities in Asia who spoke the Greek
language in the times of the emperors is entirely un¬
known. Copper seems to have been the only metal
coined at that time by the Greeks them selves ; and
that upon the Roman standard, then universal through
the empire, that there might be no impediment to the
circulation of currency. They retained, however, some
of their own terms, using them along with those of
the Romans. The assarion or assariitin of Rome, the
name of the diminished as, being 16 to the drachma
or denarius, the oboius was so much diminished in va¬
lue as to he struck in hi-ass not much larger than the
old chalcos, and valued at between two or three as-
saria ; which was indeed its ancient rate as to the
drachma. This appears from the copper coins of
Chios, which have their names marked upon them.
The brass’ obolus, at first equal in size to the Roman
sestertius or large bx-ass, lessens by degrees to about the
size of a silver drachma. From the badness of the
imperial coinage in Gx'eece also, it appears that brass
was very scarce in that countx-v, as well as in all the
cities using the Greek charactex-s; being found mostly Era of the.
in the western countries of the Roman empire. The declension,
time of this declension in size of the Greek coins is 04 t*lc
by Mr Pinkerton supposed to have been from Au- co'**
gristus down to Gallienus. Tie is of opinion, however, a
that the copper obolus, at first above the size of larjrc
brass, was used in Greece about the time of its first
subjection to Rome ; and that the lepta ceasing, the
chalci came in their room, with the dichalcus and the
hemiobolion of brass. 40
With respect to the gold coins of the Greeks, Mr Gold coins
Pinkerton is of opinion that none of that metal was 04 Gieece.
coined before the time of Philip of Macedon, as none
have reached our times prior to the reign of that mo¬
narch. From a passage in Thucydides our author con¬
cludes, that in the beginning of the Peloponnesian war
the Athenians bad no gold coin. Mentioning the
treasure in the Acropolis or citadel of Athens, at the
commencement of that war, the historian mentions
silver coin, and gold and silver in bullion; and had
any of the gold been in coin, be would certainly have
mentioned it. Philip began his reign about 68 years
after the beginning of the Peloponnesian war; and
we can scarce suppose that any city would have pre-
T 2 ceded
148
M E D
Ancient
Money.
.
Cold coin¬
ed eai'ly in
/Sicily.
ceded tite elegant, and wealthy Adieus in the coining of
gold.
Notwithstanding, however, this deficiency of gold
coin among the Greeks, it is certain that the coinage
of gold had taken place in Sicily long before ; as we
have gold coins of Gelo about 491 B. C. of Hiero f.
478, and of Dionysius I. in 404, all using the Greek
characters; though not to be ranked among the gold
coins, of Greece, as Philip caused his to be. Gold
coins of Syracuse even appear of the third class of an¬
tiquity, or with an indented square, and a small figure
in one of its segments. Gold coins are used in the
cities of Brettium, Tarentum, and throughout Magna
Graecia ; also in Panticapaa in Thrace, and likewise
Gosa in that country ; but not in Tuscany, as is com¬
monly believed, though Neumann proves that they were
struck by Brutus, and are unquestionably as ancient as
the Greek coins. The Thebans and Athenians pro¬
bably coined the first gold after Philip had set them
the example, and when they were attempting to resist
the projects of that enterprising monarch. The JKlo-
lians probably coined their gold during the time of
their greatest power, about a century alter Philip, and
when they were combating the power of Aratus and
the Achcean league. “ There is (says Mr Pinkerton)
but one ^t^va-og of Thebes, much worn, in Dr Hun¬
ter’s cabinet, and weighing but 59 grains; and per¬
haps not above two or three or gold didrachms
of Athens in the world; one of which is also in the
collection of Dr Hunter, and weighs 132^- grains.
It appears to be more modern than the reign of Phi¬
lip. That monarch having got possession of the mines
of Philippi in Thrace, improved them so much, that
they produced him annually above a thousand talents
of gold, 6r 2,88o,oool. of our money. From this
gold the first coins named from the monarch, Philippi,
■were struck. They were marked with his portrait j
and for many ages after were so numerous, that they
W'ere common in the Homan empire 5 whence the
name Philippi became at length common to gold, sil¬
ver, and at last even brass coins of their size. Even
in the time of Philip gold was very scarce in Greece :
but after the Phocians had plundered the temple of
Delphos, this precious metal, which had been valu¬
ed as gems, and consecrated only to the decoration
of the temples of the gods, began to be known among
the Greeks. The comparative value of gold and sil¬
ver, however, seem to have been at that time very dif¬
ferent from what they are now. Herodotus values
gold at 13 times its Aveight in silver j Plato in his
Hipparchus at and even the low value of jo to 1
seems to have been the stated value in Greece, though
in Borne the plenty of silver from the Spanish mines
made the value of gold to be much higher 5 and there
is no reason to think that it was ever valued in that
city at less than 12 times its weight in silver. The
Philippus -fczvtrtq, gold piece, or stater, is a didrachm,
and is the most common of all the ancient coins. Mr
Pinkerton is of opinion that it went for 20 silver
♦Irachms on its first appearance j but in latter times
for 25 Greek drachmae or Roman denarii. There are
proofs of the Philippi being didrachms, both from the
writings of ancient authors and from numbers of the
coins themselves, which remain to this day j and that
tn* xgMrts, or principal gold coin of Greece, was of
A L S.
the same weight, is also evident from ancient writings.
it was anciently worth about 15s. but valuing gold Mom”
now at the medium price of 4I. per ounce, it is worth
about 20s. The or half the former coin,
scarcely occurs of the coinage of Philip and Alexander,
though it does of Hiero I. of Syracuse and of King
Pyrrhus. It passed for ten silver drachmas, and was
valued only at 7s. 6d. though now worth 1 os. There
was another division of this kind worth about 3s.
There were besides some lesser divisions of gold coins,
which could not he worth above two drachmas. These
were coined in Cyrene j and there were besides several
old gold coins of Asia Minor, the value of which is
novv unknown. Our author supposes that they were
coined not with relation to their weight as parts of the
drachma, but merely to make them correspond with so
many silver pieces as was necessary. rIhere are also
larger coins than the °f Alexan¬
der and Lysimachus being dpuble its value. Some
others are met with of Lysimachus, Antiochus HI.
and some of the Egyptian monarchs, weighing four
times the and now worth about 4I. sterling.
Some weigh even more j but this our author supposes
owing to a difference in the purity of the gold. 4,
In Borne, as well as in Greece, the money was at Pionma
first estimated by weight 5 and the first metal coinedMcntT'
by that people was copper, silver being long unknown
in Borne j nor is it certainly known that any silver
has ever been found in the Italian mines. In Borne
the first valuation of money was by the libra gravis
ei'ris, or pound of heavy brass : and in the progress of
their conquests, the little silver and gold that came in
their way was regulated by the same standard, as ap- ^
pears from the story of Brennus. The weights madeOftlicl
use of were the same with those which continue to thisinaDl)0'
day. The pound consisted of 12 ounces of 458 grains
each j but the pound by which the money was weigh¬
ed appears to have consisted only of 420 grains to the
ounce, or to have contained in all 5040 grains. This
became the standard of copper j and when silver came
to be coined, seven denarii went to the ounce as eight
drachms did in Greece. Gold was regulated by the
scriptuhnn or scrapvlum, the third part of a denarius,
and by the larger weights just mentioned. The num¬
ber 10 was at first used by the Romans in counting
their money j but finding afterwards that a smaller
number was more convenient, they divided it into
quarters j and as the quarter of 10 is l\, they for this ^
reason bestowed upon it the name of sestertius or “ balfSesterti
the third j” to express that it was two of any weights, as, &c.
measures, &c. and half a third j whence the sestertius
came at last to be the grand estimate of Roman mo¬
ney. The as being at first the largest, and indeed the
only Roman coin, the word sestertius means sestertius as,
or “ two ases and a half.” On the first coining of
silver, the denarius of ten ases was struck in the most
common and convenient denary division of money, or
that by tens ; the sestertius being of course two ases
and a half. But the denarius being afterwards esti¬
mated at 16 ases, the name sestertius was still applied
to a quarter of the denarius, though it now contained
four ases. The term sestertius was applied to all sums
not exceeding 1000 sestertii, or 81. 63. 8d. j but for
greater sums the mode of the sestertius was likewise
altered, though not to exclude the former. Very large
sums
«
it-
si
tki
ij
A - ct
5 «')'•
Wh -e
the -
jnar leri-
ved iir
coin e.
sums of money were estimated by the hundred Aveight
of brass 5 for the Homans were at first unacquainted
J with the talent. The hundred w eight, hy way of
eminence, was distinguished by the name of pondus,
and sestertium pondus became a phrase for two hundred
weight and a half. Mr Pinkerton is of opinion, that
we may value the as libralis of ancient Rome at about
eightpence English. Estimating the as therefore at a
pound weight, the sestertium pondus was equal to 1000
sestertii, or 81. 6s. 8d. •, and by coincidence which our
author supposes to have been the effect of design, as soon
as the silver coinage appeared, the sestertium centum
denariorum Avas always equal to 81. 6s. 8d. also. The
Avord sesiertium itself, hoAvever, seems to have been un-
knoAA’n prior to the coinage of silver money at Rome :
the pondera gravis ceris being sufficient before that time
for all the purposes of a state in Avhich money was so
scarce. But however this may be, the pondus or hun¬
dred Aveight of brass was precisely Avorth 100 denarii,
or a pound of silver. As the great sestertium A\Tas al-
Avays valued at 1000 of the smaller, or 81. 6s. 8d. avc
never find one sestertium mentioned in authors, hut tAvo,
three, or more; ten thousand of them being equal to
83,333b 6s. 8d.
The states from Avhich the Romans may be suppo¬
sed first to have derived their coinage, Avere the Etrus¬
cans and the Greek colonies in Magna Grsecia and
Sicily. Joseph Scaliger, Gronovius, &c. contend that
it Avas from the Sicilians that the Romans first derived
their knoAvledge of money ; but Mr Pinkerton argues
that it Avas from the Etruscans. In confirmation of
his opinion, he appeals to the state of the Roman ter¬
ritories in the time of Servius Tullius, who is look¬
ed upon to have been the first Avho coined money at
Rome. At that time the Avhole Roman dominion
did not extend beyond ten miles round the city ; and
Avas entirely surrounded by tbe Etruscan and Latin
states •, Cumae being the next Greek colony to it that
AA'as of any consequence, and Avhich Avas in the neigh¬
bourhood of Naples, at about the distance of 150
miles. Our author asks, Is it reasonable to think
that the Romans received the use of money from the
Etruscans and Latins who Avere their neighbours, or
from the Greeks, avIio Avere at a distance, and at that
time, as far as appears from their history, absolutely
unknoAvn to them ? “ If this argument (adds he), is
strong Avith regard to the nearest Grecian colonies,
what must it be AA’ith respect to Sicily, an island 300
miles distant from Rome, Ayhere it Avas not knoAvn, at
that time, if a boat Avent by land or Avater ?” Argu¬
ments, howrever, for this opinion have been derived
from the similarity betAvixt the Sicilian and Roman
corns; Avhich Air Pinkerton now proceeds to examine.
The Greek pound in Sicily Avas called and con¬
sisted, like the Roman, of 12 ovyxixi, or ounces j and
Mr Pinkerton grants that the Roman libra Avas deri\r-
ed from the Greek Arrg«, but denies that the as, or
libra, a cqin, was from Sicilian model. The Sicilians
had indeed a coin named Xn^x; but it Avas of silver, and
of equal A'alue to the iEginean standard, ten of Avhich
went to the Sicilian dixxXirgx. He differs from Gro¬
novius, that the standard of ./Egina was used at Co¬
rinth, and of course at Syracuse 5 and it appears from
Aristotle, that the Sicilians had a talent or standard of
their oavo. The Sicilian obolus or contained al-
M E D A L S.
46
so 12 ounces or chain, so named at first because they
AA'eighed an ounce weight; but the cvyxixi of Hiero
weigh more than a troy ounce j and the brass coins
of Agrigentum are marked Avith cyphers as far as six :
the largest weighing only 186 grains, or about one-
third of the primitive ounce. Our author denies that
even the Roman denarius took its rise from the Sici¬
lian SixxXtT£6)i, as many authors assert. Were this the
case, it Avould have Aveighed 180 grains 5 Avhereas the
Roman denarii arc not above the third part of the
quantity.
I rom all these considerations, our author is of opi- Origin of
nion that the Sicilians bpmnved the division of their ^c^an
Xitqx from the Etruscans, or possibly from the Romans<0mS'
themselves ; Avhich our author thinks is more probable
than that the Romans had it from Sicily. The strong¬
est argument, hoAvever, against the Roman coinage be¬
ing borrowed from the Sicilian is, that though great
numbers of Sicilian coins are to be found in the cabi¬
nets of medalists, yet none of them resemble the as li-
brahs of the Romans in any degree. In most cabi¬
nets also there arc Etruscan coins upon the exact scale
of the as libralis, and several of its dhusions j from
Avhence Air Pinkerton concludes, that “ these, and
thes^alone, must have afforded a pattern to the pri-
mitive Roman coinage.” J he Etruscans Avere a colony
from Lydia, to Avhich country Herodotus ascribes the
first invention of coinage. “ Those colonists (says Air
Pinkerton), upon looking round their settlements, and
finding that no silver Avas to be had, and much less gold,”
supplied the mercantile medium Avith copper ; to Avhich
the case of Siveden is x'ery similar, which, as late as 1
the last century, had copper coins of such magnitude,
that Avheelbarrows Avere used to carry off a sum not very
considerable. 47
Some coins are found which exceed the tis libralis in 0f (he most
weight 5 and these are supposed to be prior to the timeaBcient
of Servius Tullius. Some of them are met with of 34'
and of 53 Roman ounces j having upon one side the fi¬
gure of a bull rudely impressed, and upon the other the
bones of a fish. They are most commonly found at
Tudder, or Tudertum, in Umbria 5 but they appear
ahvays broken at one end : so that Air Pinkerton is
of opinion, that perhaps some might be struck of the
decussis form, or Aveigbing ten pounds. These pieces,
in our author’s opinion, make it evident, that the Ro¬
mans derived their large brass coins from the Etruscans
and the neighbouring states : they are all cast in moulds 5
and the greater part of them appear mucli more ancient
than the Roman ascs, even such as are of the greatest
antiquity.
Air Pinkerton agrees Avith Sir Isaac NeAvton as to the
time that Servius Tullius reigned in Rome, which he
supposes to be about 460 B. C. His coinage seems to
have been confined to the as, or piece of brass having
the impression of Janus on the one side, and the proAV
of a ship on the other; because Janus arrived in Italy
hy sea. Varro, hoAvever, informs us, that tbe very first
coins of Tullihs had the figure of a bull or other cattle
upon them, like the Etruscan coins, of Avhich they
Avere imitations. Those with the figure of Janus and
the proAV of a ship upon them may be supposed first
to have appeared about 400 B. C. but in a short
time, various subdivisions of the as Avere coined. The Snbdiviiti-
semis, or half, is commonly stamped with the head ofons ol t!ie
Jupiter
Roman
coins.
4$
SO . M E D
Ancient Jupiter laurcatcd j the'#/’/<?«.? or third, having four cy-
Moncy. phers, as being originally of four ounces weight, has
“~v~ the head of Minerva j the cfiiadrans or quarter, marked
with three cyphers, has the head of Hercules wrapt
in the lion’s skin j the sextans or sixth, having only
two cyphers, is marked with the head of Mercury
with a cap and wings j while the micia having only
one cypher, is marked with the head of Home. All
these coins appear to have been cast in moulds, by a
considerable number at a time ; and in the British mu¬
seum there are four of them all united together as
taken out of the mould in which perhaps dozens were
cast together. In process of time, however, the smaller
divisions were struck instead of being cast ”, but the
larger still continued to be cast until the as fell to two
ounces. Even after this time it was still called li¬
bra, and accounted a pound of copper j though there
A L S.
49
Larger de- were now larger denominations of it coined, such as
iiemiiia- j-]ie l)issas or double as : tressis and quadrussis of three
tions ot it - 4
struck.
weight.
and four ases j nay, as far as decussis or ten ases, mar¬
ked X. Olivieri mentions one in his own cabinet
weighing upwards of 25 ounces, and cast when the as
was about three ounces weight. There is likewise in
the M usteutn Etruscum a decussis of 40 Koman ounces,
cast when the as was at four ounces. There was like¬
wise a curious decussis in the Jesuits library at Rome,
for which an English medallist offered 20I.; but it was
seized by the pope along with every other thing belong-
,.0 ing to the society.
Decrease of Mr Pinkerton contests the opinion of Pliny that
the as in the as continued of a pound weight till the end of
the first Punic war. Ptis opinion (he says), is con¬
futed by the coins which still remain; and it appears
probable to him that the as decreased gradually in
weight j and from one or two of the pieces which
still exist, he seems to think that the decrease was
slow, as from a pound to eleven ounces, then to ten,
nine, &c. *, but neither the as nor its parts were ever
correctly sized. During the time of the second Punic
war, when the Romans were sore pressed by Hanni¬
bal, the as was reduced to a single ounce. It is said
to have taken place in the 215th year before our era,
being about 36 years after the former change. This
as libralis, with the faces of Janus upon it, is the form
most commonly met with previous to its being redu¬
ced to two ounces. Our author supposes that the as
libralis continued for at least a century and a half
after this coinage of Tullius down to 300 B.C. about the
year of Rome 452, between which and the 502d year
of Rome a gradual diminution of the as to twro ounces
must have taken place. The following tabic of the dates
of the Roman coinage is given by Mr Pinkerton.
The libralis, coined by Tullius with the figures of
oxen, &c. about 167 years after the building of Rome,
according to Sir Isaac Newton, or about the year be¬
fore Christ
As liberals with Janus and the prow of a ship
As of ten ounces . _ _
Eight -
Six 
Four - - - - -
Three - - - -
Two, according to Pliny
One, according to the same author
460
400
300
290
280
270
260
250
214
About 175 B.C. also, we are informed by Pliny
Aneieni
Money.
that the as was reduced to half an ounce by the Papy-
rian law, at which it continued till the time of Pliny
himself, and long after.
After the Romans began to have an intercourse with
Greece, a variety of elegant figures appear upon the
parts of the as, though not on the as itself till after the
time of Sylla. Towards the latter end of the republic
also, di/pojidii, or double ases, were coined, together
with the sestertii serei, which came in place of the
quadrusses, when the denarius began to be reckoned at
16 ases; probably at the time the latter wras reduced to ^
half an ounce. In some instances it is to be observed, Coins on :
that the Romans accommodated their coins to the coun-^le Gveel
try where their army was stationed; whence we have™aiI
many coins marked as Roman, which have been coined jjian
in Magna Grcecia and Sicily, and are evidently upon
the Greek and not the Roman scale. In the latter part
■of the republican times, also, the types begin to vary;
so that w'e have a brass coin supposed, to be struck by
Sextus Pompeius in Sicily, having upon it a double
head of that warrior, representing a Janus. Mr Pin¬
kerton supposes it to have been a dupondius; which in¬
deed appears to be the case from the double head. This
coin is of copper, and still weighs an ounce, notwith¬
standing its antiquity. 52 1
The largest imperial copper coin wras the sestertius, Of tuesJ
a piece worth about twopence of our money. Mrstertlus,{
Pinkerton censures severely the opinion of other me¬
dallists, all of whom say that the sestertius wras of sil¬
ver. “ In fact (says he), it would be as rational in
any antiquary, a thousand years hence, to contend
that the halfpenny and farthing are of silver, because
they were so in the reign of Henry VII1.” In con¬
firmation of bis own opinion, be quotes the following
passage from Pliny : “ The greatest glory of brass is
now due to the Marian, called also that of Cordova.
This, after the Livian, most absorbs the lapis ealami-
naris, and imitates the goodness of native orichalcum
in our sestertii and dupondiarii, the ases being con¬
tented with their owm copper.” Gronovius confesses
that he does not know what to make of this passage,
and that it causes him hesitate in his opinion. The
Livian mine mentioned here by Pliny, is supposed to
have got its name from Livia the wife of Augustus;
and it is probable that the pieces marked with her
portraits, entitled Justitia, Salus, Virtus, &c. were
dupondii from this very mine, the metal being ex¬
ceedingly fine, and of the kind named Corinthian brass
by the ancient medallists. “ Perhaps (says Mr Pinker¬
ton), the mine received its name from this very cir¬
cumstance of her coins being struck in the metal taken
from it.”
No change took place in the Roman coinage from Coin ad
the time that the as fell to half an ounce to the of yelloj
days of Pliny : but Mr Pinkerton observes, that be-
fore the time of Julius Caesar yellow brass began to
be used, and was always looked upon to be double the
value of Cyprian or red copper. There are but few
coins in large brass immediately before Julius Caesar,
or even belonging to that emperor; but from the time
of Augustus downward, the large coins are all found
of brass, and not one of them copper. The largest of
wliat are called the middle size are all of yellow brass;
and the next size, which is the as, and weighs half an
ounce, is universally copper. What the ancients na-
2 med
MED
c;cnt nwtl onckalcum, or ivhat we call brass, was always
oney. looked upon to be greatly superior in value to the ies
y Cyprjum. Procopius, spealdngol’a statue of Jostiniau,
tells us, that brass inferior in colour to gold is almost
equal in value to silver. The mines of native brass
were very few in number, and were owing entirely to
the singular combination of copper and lapis calamina-
ris in the bowels of -he earth, which very seldom oc¬
curs ; and the ancients were very far from being well
acquainted with the method of combining these two bo¬
dies artificially ; so that yellow brass was always esteem¬
ed at double the value of copper j and hence, in the
ancient coinages, the brass and copper pieces were kept
as distinct as those of gold and silver.
Mr Pinkerton challenges to himself the discovery
that the imperial sestertius was of brass } and is at con¬
siderable pains to bring proofs of it. Besides the tes¬
timony of Pliny, which of itself would be decisive,
this is supported by the strongest collateral evidence of
other authors. From a passage in Julius Africanus,-
who wrote the larynx, or Treatise on Medicine, it ap¬
pears that the nummus, or sestertius, weighed an
ounce, and of consequence that it could not be silver
but brass 5 and all the large imperial Roman coins
weigh an ounce. We know not the age in which Ju¬
lius Africanus lived } and as he makes the denarius to
contain 16 ases, he must have been before the age of
Gallienus, when it had 60. Gronovius supposes him
to have been the same mentioned by Eusebius. This
author speaks of a Julius Africanus who lived in the
tune of Heliogabalus, and whom Mr Pinkerton sup¬
poses to have been the same with him above men-
54 tioned.
E inutm The sestertius underwent no change till the time of
oi e se- Alexander Severus, when it was diminished by one-
third of its weight. Trajanus Uecius was the first
who coined double sestei’tii, or quinarii, of brass ; but
from the time of Trebonianus Gallus to that of Gal-
henus, when the first brass ceases, the sestertius does
not weigh above the third part of an ounce $ the lar¬
ger coins are accounted double sestertii ; and after the
time of Gallienus it totally vanishes. In the times
of Valerian and Gallienus we find a new kind of coin¬
age, mentioned by the name of denarii ceris, or P/iiiip-
pi cerei. Two sizes of denarii began to be used in the
time of Caracalla ; the larger of six sestertii, or 24
assaria; the smaller of four sestertii, or 16 assaria as
usual. In the time of Pupienus, the latter was re¬
duced to such a small size as not to weigh more than
36 grains ; though in Caracalla’s time it weighed 56.
After the time of Gordian III. the smaller coin fell
into disuse, as breeding confusion. The larger dena¬
rius of six sestertii, though diminished at last to the
size of the early denarius, still retained its value of six
sestertii, or 24 assaria. The Philippus cereus came at
length in place of the sestertius. It was also called
denarius; from which we may learn not only their
size, but that they were in value ten assaria as the first
denarius. In the reijm of Dioclesian, the place of
the sestertius was supplied by the follis, that emperor
having restored the silver coin to its purity, and like¬
wise given this form to the copper •, but it would seem
that this restoration of the coinage only took jilace to¬
wards the end of his reign ; whence we have but few
of his silver coins, and still fewer of the follis, though
A L S.
the denarii cerci continue quite common down to the
time of Constantine. The follis of Gioclesian seems
to have weighed above half an ounce; and Mr Pin¬
kerton is of opinion, that Gioclesian designed this
coin to supply the place of the denarius aereus 5 which
of course was worth ten assariae, and six of them went
151
Ancient-
Money.
to the silver denarius. From this time the assarium
diminishes to the size of 30 grains ; and soon after the
follis appeared, the denarius icreus was entirely drop¬
ped, the former having gradually supplied its place.
Some mints appear to have retained the use of the de¬
narius longer than others ; and in some the change
was preceded, and gradually brought in, by washing
the follis with silver or tin, as the denarius had for¬
merly been. Pieces of this kind occur in the times of
Gioclesian, Maximian I. and II. and Constantins I. j
that is, for about ten years after the follis made its ap¬
pearance. Some countries, however, retained the de¬
narius cere us; others the foliis ; and some had a me¬
dium betwixt the two, or the follis washed in imita¬
tion of the denarius.
Towards the end of the reign of Constantine I. a New coin-
new coinage ivas introduced throughout the whole age intro-
empire. The follis coined by this prince was of half^uce^
an ounce weight24 of them going to the milliaren-
sis, or larger silver coin. The worA follis signifies also
a purse, in which sense we sometimes find it mention¬
ed in the Byzantine history. The common follis cf
silver, when it occurs by itself, means a purse of 250
milliarenses, as the sestertium was 250 denarii j and by
a law of Constantine I. every man paid to the state a'
follis or purse according to his income. The method of
counting by purses continues in Turkey to this day. ^
The dupondius was only half the value of the sester- Of the dii-
tius, or about one penny sterlings and before theI)01,I‘US-
yellow brass appeared it seems to have been struck up-
omcopper, and double the size of the as. There are
some of this coin, struck in the time of Julius Ciesar,
in yellow brass, weighing half an ounce, with a head of
Venus Victrix upon one side 5 on the reverse, a female
figure, with serpents at her feet: while others have a
Victory on the reverse, with Q. Oppius Pr. After the
time of Augustus, the dupondius was struck in yellow
brass ; which Pliny tells us was also the case in his time-
The word dupondiarius seems to have been used by
Pliny, and adopted, not to express that the coin was
dupondius, but that it was of dupondiary value. Nei¬
ther was the former word confined to signify double
weight, hut was used also for double length or measure,
as in the instance of dupondius pes, or two feet, &c.
In the imperial times, therefore, dupondius was used,
not to signify a coin of double the weight ol the as, but
of double the value. It was one of the most common
of the Roman coins j and seems to have been very
common even in Constantinople. In the time of Jus¬
tinian, it seems there was a custom of nicknaming
young students of the law dupondii, against "which the
emperor made a law 5 but it is not known ivhat gave
rise to the name. The dupondius, though of the-
same size with the as, is commonly of finer workman¬
ship, the metal being greatly superior in value. It
continues to be of yellow brass, as well as the sester¬
tius to the time of Gallienus ; but the as is always in
copper. 57
The imperial as, or assarium, was worth only a Of the as-
halfpenny. sar*iun’
I ^2
MEDALS.
53
Parts of
the as.
59
Of the
smallest
Roman
coins.
60
Of the mis
hlia.
61
Coins of
the lower
empire.
halfpenny. At first it weighed half an ounce, and
was always of copper till the time of Gallienus, when
it was made of brass, and weighed only the eighth part
of an ounce. From the time of Gallienus to that of
Dioclesian, it continued to diminish still more, the size
being then twenty to an ounce. This was the same
with the lepta, or smallest coins but the vovpix, which
weighed only ten grains.
The parts of the as occur but seldom : which may,
indeed, be well expected, considering the low' value ot
it ; though there still occur some of those called semis,
tricns, quadrans, sextans, and uncia, coined in the
times ol Nero and Domitian. There is no small brass
from the time of Pertinax to that of Gallienus, except¬
ing that of Trajanus Decius $ but in the time of Galli¬
enus it becomes extremely common; and the coins of
small brass, as well as the larger, are always marked
S. C. such as want it being universally accounted for-
geries ; and were plated with silver, though the plating
be now worn olf. The small pieces struck for slaves
during the time of the saturnalia, must also be distin¬
guished from the parts of the as. The S. C. upon these
most probably signifies Satur/riCo/mt/to, and were struck
in ridicule of the true coins, as the slaves on that occa¬
sion had every privilege of irony.
The sestertius diminishes from Pertinax to Gallienus
so fast, that no parts of the as are struck, itself being
so small. Tx-ajanus Decius, indeed, coined some small
pieces, which went for the semis of the time. The
small brass coins under Gallienus wrere called assaria,
sixty of which went to the silver denarius. They are
about the size of the denarius, and some of them oc¬
cur of the coinage of Callus and his family, of half
that size, which appear to have been struck during the
latter part of his reign, when the assarium rvas dimi¬
nished to a still smaller size. It is probable, however,
that some of these very small coins had been struck in
all ages of the empire, in order to scatter among the
people on solemn occasions. Mr Pinkerton is of opi¬
nion that they are the tnissilia, though most other me¬
dallists think that they are medallions. “ But if so
(says our author), they were certainly called missiliad
non mittendo ; for it would be odd if fine medallions
were scattered among the mob. It is a common custom
just now to strike counters to scatter among the popu¬
lace on such occasions, while medals are given to peers
of the kingdom j and we may very justly reason from
analogy on this occasion.”
The assarion or lepton of the Constantinopolitan em¬
pire w’as, as we have already observed, one of the small¬
est coins knowrn in antiquity, weighing no more than
20 grains \ and the noumia were the very smallest which
have reached our times, being only one half of the for¬
mer. By reason of their extreme smallness, they are
very scarce ; but Mr Pinkerton informs us, that he has
in his possesion a fine one of Theodosius II. which has
on it the emperor’s head in profile. Theodosius P. F.
AV. ; on the reverse a wreath, having in the centre
VOT. XX. : MULT. XXX.
The principal coin of the lower empire was the fol-
lis, which was divided into an half and quarter, named
ipirofoXus and rfraegrevthat latter of which is shown
by Du Cange to have been a small brass coin, as the
other is supposed to have been by Mr Pinkerton.—
Besides these, the follis was divided into eight oboli, 16
l
Ancient
Coras,
assaria or lepta, and 32 noumia, though in comm6ft
computation it contained 40 ot these last. This coin,
notwithstanding so many divisions, was ot no more va¬
lue than a halfpenny.
Mr Pinkerton controverts an opinion, common among
medallists, that the largest brass coin or follis of the
lower empire had 40 small coins, expressed by the let¬
ter M upon it ; the next had 30, expressed by the let¬
ter A ; the half by the letter K j and the quarter mark¬
ed I, which contained only 10. Mr Pinkerton informs
us, that he has three coins of Anastasius, all marked M
in large j one of them weighs more than half an ouncey'
the second 40 grains less } and the third of 160 grains,
or one-third of an ounce } but the size is so very un¬
equal, that the last, which is very thick, does not ap¬
pear above half the size of the first. There are pieces
of Justinian which weigh a whole ounce 5 but the size
of copper was increased as the silver became scarcer j
and the value of the coinage cannot be deduced from
the weight of the coins, as it is plain that our own coin¬
age is not of half the value with regard to the metal.
A great number of medallions were struck by Constan-
tius II. but there is no other copper larger than the
half ounce, excepting that of Anastasius, when the fol¬
lis began to be struck larger. All medallists allow the
others to be medallions.
The metal employed in these very small coins,
though at first of brass, was always a base and refuse
kind j but copper is generally made use of in the parts
of the as from the earliest times to the latest ; and if
brass be sometimes employed, it is never such as ap¬
pears in the sestertii and dupondiarii, which is very
fine and beautiful, but only the refuse. “ Yellow' brass
of the right sort (says Mr Pinkerton), seems totally
to have ceased in the Homan coinage with the sester¬
tius, under Gallienus, though a few small coins of
very bad metal appear under that hue as late as Ju¬
lian II.” 6z
Silver was coined in Home only as late as the 485th Romaa
year of the city, or 266 B. C. Varro indeed speaks
of silver having been coined by Servius Tullius, and
the libella having been once in silver 5 but Pliny’s au¬
thority must be accounted of more weight than that
of this author, as he mistakes the of Sicily for
Roman coins, having been current at Rome during
the time of the first Punic war. Even Pliny, accord¬
ing to our author, very frequently mistakes with regard
to matters much antecedent to his own time j and
among the moderns he criticises severely Erasmus and
Hume. “ Erasmus (says he), who had been in Eng¬
land for some time, talks of leaden money being used
here.” Not even a leaden token was struck in the
reign of Henry \ III. j yet his authority has been fol¬
lowed with due deference to so great a name 5 for
how could Erasmus, who must have seen the matter
with his own eyes, assert a direct falsehood ? To give
a later instance in a writer of reputation, Air Hume,
in Vol. VI. of his history, has these words, in treating
of the reign of James I. “ It appears that copper
halfpence and farthings began to be coined in this
reign. Tradesmen had commonly carried on their re¬
tail business by leaden tokens. The small siver penny
was soon lost } and at this time was nowhere to be
found.” Copper halfpence and farthings wrere not
struck till Charles II. 1672 : there w ere small tokens,
for
M E T>
An nt for fartlilagi struck in cupper by James I. but not one
(, vio y. for tlic halfpenny. The silver farthings had ceased
' with Edward VI. but the silver halfpence continued
the sole coins till Edward II. It was by copper tokens
that small business was carried on. The silver penny
was much used till the end of the reign of George I. ;
and so far from being nowhere to be found, is super-
abuntiant-of every reign since that period, not except¬
ing even the present reign of George III. From these
•instances the reader may judge how strangely writers of
■all ages blunder, when treating of a subject of which
they are entirely ignorant.”
Dcm The fix-st silver denarii coined at Home, are supposed
uher st by our author to have been those which are impressed
eoinc with the Roma j and he inclines to account those the
most ancient that have a double female head on the
one side, and on the reverse Jupiter in a car, with
Victory holding the reins, and the word Roma indent¬
ed in a rude and singular manner. The double female
head seems to •denote Rome, in imitation of the Janus
then upon the as. There are 15 of these in the cabi¬
net of Dr Hunter 5 one of the largest weighs 98E
grains : and the rest, which seem to he of the greatest an¬
tiquity, are of various weights betwixt that and 84;
the smaller and more modern weigh 58 or 59 grains ;
but Mr Pinkerton is of opinion, that the large ones
are of the veiy first Roman coinage, and struck during
that interval of time betwixt the coinage of the first
silver denarius and the as of two ounces. He takes
the indentation of the word Roma to be a mark of great
antiquity •, such a mode being scarcely known any
where else, except in Caulonia, Crotona, and other
towns of Italy j all of them allowed to he struck at
least 400 B. C. As these coins are not double denarii,
they must have been struck -prior to the small ones j
and Neumann has given an account of one of them re¬
coined by Trajan, in which the indentation of Roma is
carefully preserved. The first denarius was in value
k • 10 ases> when the as weighed three ounces *, and al¬
lowing 90 grains at a medium for one of these large
denarii, the proportion of copper to silver must have
been as 1 to 160 : but when the as fell to one ounce,
the proportion was as 1 to'809 -when it fell to half an
ounce, so that l6 ases went to the denarius, tire pro¬
portion was as 1 to 64, at which it remained. Copper
with us, in coinage, is to silver as one to 40 5 but in
actual value as I to 72.
At Rome the denarius was worth 8d. *, the quinari-
rms. U3 > ar>d the sestertius, whether silver or brass, 2d.
parts ^le denarius is the coin from which our penny is de¬
rived, and was the chief silver coin in Rome for
600 years. 'According to Celsus, seven denarii went
to the Roman ounce, which in metals did not exceed
430 grains; but as all the denarii hitherto met with
weigh at a medium only 60 grains, this would seem
to make the Roman ounce only 420 grains •, though
perhaps this deficiency may be accounted for from the
unavoidable waste of metal even in the best preserved
of these coins. According to this proportion the Ro¬
man pound contained 84 denarii; but in tale there
was a very considerable excess j for no fewer than 100
denarii went to the Roman pound. The Greek
ounce appears to have been considerably larger than
that of Rome, containing about 528 grains ; yet not¬
withstanding this apparently great odds, the difference
the coins was so small, that the Greek money went
VOL. XIII. Fart I. t
A • L S. T -
current in Rome, and the Roman in Greece. The Ancient
denarius at first went for 10 ases, and ivas marked X': Money.,
it was afterwards raised to 16 j which Mr Pinkerton v ■ *
supposes to have been about 175 B. C. Some are
met with bearing the number X VI. nay, with every
number up to CCCCEXXVI. Jbese large numbere
are supposed to have been mint-marks of some kind
or other. After being raised to 16 ases, it continu¬
ed at the same value till the time of Gallienus j so
that till that time ive are to look upon its constituent
parts to be 16 ases or assaria, eight dupondii, four
brass sestertii, and two silver quinarii. Under the
emperor Severus, however, or his successor Caracalla,
denarii were struck of two sizes, one of them a third
heavier than the common *, which we must of conse¬
quence suppose to have borne a third more value. This
large piece obtained the name of argenius, and argen-
tens PkUippus, or the “ silver Philipthe name of
Philip having become common to almost every coin. The
common denarii now began to be termed minuti and
argenii .Philippi minutuli, &c. to express their being
smaller than*-the rest. Some have imagined that the
large denarii were of . the same value with the small,
only of worse metal ; but Mr Pinkerton observes, that
among the few which have any difference of metal,
the smallest are always the worst. The first mention
of the nunuti is in the time of Alexander Severus, who
reduced the price of pork from eight niinuti at Rome
to two and* to one. The minutus argenteus of that age
was about 40 grains j and from the badness of the
metal was not worth above 4d. of our money. Thus
the price of meat was by this prince reduced first to 8d.
and then to 4d. ^
According to Zozimus and other writers, the pu- Itestoratioa
ritv of the Roman coin was restored by Aurelian: ot the pu-
but Mr Pinkerton -controverts this opinion ; thinking ^lty ot ttie
it more probable, that he only made the attempt with-co°^aa
out success ; or that his reformation might be entirely
confined to gold, on which there is an evident change
after the time of this emperor. His successor Taci¬
tus is said to have allowed no brass to he mixed with
silver upon any account; yet the few coins of this
emperor are very much alloyed. We arc certain,
however, that the emperor Dioclesian restored the sil¬
ver to its ancient purity; the denarii struck in his
reign being very small indeed, but of as fine silver as
tiie most ancient coins of the empire. After Gor¬
dian III. the small denarius entirely vanished, while
the large one was so much diminished, that it resem¬
bled the minutus, or small one of Caracalla, in size.
Gallienus introduced the denariicerei instead of the ses¬
tertii. The argenteus, though reduced more than one-
third in size, contained six denarii aerei, the old stand¬
ard of sestertii. According to the writers of this pe¬
riod, and some time afterwards, the denarius or argen¬
teus contained 60 assaria; whence it follows, that each
denarius sere us had 10 ; and from this it probably had
its name. The assaria are of the size of the argentei
already mentioned ; and show the copper to have re¬
tained nearly its old proportion of value to the silver,
viz. I to 60. 65
A larger silver coin was introduced by Constan-Reforma-
tine I. who accommodated the new money to the tj011 °f th®
pound of gold in such a manner, that 1000 of the for-
mer in tale were equal to the latter in value ; so that tjnc
this new piece from thence obtained the name of the
U milliarensis
154
Ancient
Money.
67
Account of
the small
Homan
coins.
MED
milliarensis or “ thousander.” Its weight at a medi¬
um is 70 grains, or 70 to the pound of silver: but Mr
Pinkerton is of opinion, that it might have contained
72 grains, of which two have now perished by the
softness of the silver j that the pound contained 72 •, or
that two of the number might be allowed for coinage *,
while the alloy alone, would pay for coining gold.
The code says, that 60 went to the pound } but the
numbers of this are quite corrupt. The milharensis was
worth about a shilling sterling. The argentei or de¬
narii, however, were still the most common currency •,
and having been originally rated at 100 to the
pound of silver in tale, they from thence began to be
called centenionaleSy or “ hundreders.” Those of Con¬
stantine I. and II. Conslans, and Constantins, weigh
from 50 grains down 1040 } these of Julian and Jovian,
from 40 to 30 } and of the succeeding emperors from
that time to Justinian, from 30 to 20. Under Hera-
clius they ceased entirely j and from Justinian to their
total abolition, had been brought down from 15 to
10 grains. A like decrease of weight took place in
the miliiarensis; those of Constantine and Constans
beinp- above 70 grains in weight; those of Arcadius
not above 60 ; and the miliiarensis of Justinian not
more than 30 grains $ but, from the weight oi those
in Dr Hunter’s cabinet, Mr Pinkerton deduces the
medium to have been exactly 70T8T grains. These
coins 'were also called majonrue.
The smaller silver coins of Rome were, 1. The qm-
narias, at first called victoriatus, from the image of Vic¬
tory on its reverse; and which it continued to bear
from first to last. Its original value was five ases, hut
it was afterwards raised to eight, when the value of the
denarius increased to 16. According to Pliny, it was
first coined in consequence of the lex Clodia, about
the 525th year of Rome. Some are of opinion, that
it was called under the Constantinopolitan
empire, because it was worth a of gold, 144
of which went to the ounce : but this is denied by Mr
Pinkerton, because, at the time that the word
first appears in history, the denarius did not weigh
above 30 grains; and of consequence, as 25 must have
gone to the gold solidus, of which there were six in
the ounce, 130 denarii must have gone to the ounce
of gold. He is therefore of opinion, that the word
Ki^Ttov, was only another name for the denarius when
much reduced in size; probably owing to the great
scarcity of silver in Constantinople, though in the same
city there was plenty of gold ; and of consequence, the
gold solidus was never diminished. “ For Montes¬
quieu (says our author) has well observed, that gold
must be common where silver is rare. Hence gold
was the common regulation of accounts in the Eastern
empire.” The met with in ancient authors,
according to Mr Pinkerton, was merely an improper
name for the miliiarensis; when, on account of the
scarcity of silver, the denarius w^as reduced, and no
milliarenses coined : so that the current milliarensis of
former reigns happened to be double to the denarius
or centenionalis. The quinarius diminishes in size
along with the other coins 5 those ol Augustus weigh¬
ing 30 grains, of Severus 25, ol Constantine I.
20, of Justinian 12, and ol Heraclius only 5. A
new silver coinage seems to have taken place alter the
days of this emperor 5 as the little we then meet with,
A L S.
which in the best cabinets scarce exceeds a dozen of An(,i(t
coins, consists entirely of large unshapely pieces of Most)
coarse metal. _ v*
2. The consular denarius had also four silver sestertii, D. .6.s
till the as fell to half an ounce, when it was thought
proper to com the sestertius in brass, as it continued nus,
to be ever afterwards. “ The very last silver sester¬
tius (says Mr Pinkerton) which appears, is one with a
head of Mercury, and H. S. j on the reverse a caduceus
P. sepvllivs *, who appears to be the P. sepvllivs
MACER of the denarii of Julius Caesar. If so, as is
most probable, the sestertius was coined in silver down
to Augustus; aud it is of course not to be expected
that any of brass can appear till Augustus, under
whom they are actually quite common. I have in¬
deed seen no coin which could be a consular brass se¬
stertius *, and though we have certainly brass dupondii
of Caesar, yet it is reasonable to infer, that the brass
sestertius was first coined by Augustus. Not one silver
sestertius appears during the whole imperial period,
yet we know that the sestertius was the most common
of all silver coins. The consular sestertii of silver,
marked H. S. are not uncommon, nor the quinarii;
but the latter, are very scarce of all the emperors, il
we except one instance, the ASIA recepta ol Au¬
gustus. fy
“ The Roman gold coinage was still later than thatk™”
of silver. Pliny tells us, that “gold was coined 62^ '
years after silver,; and the scruple went - for 60 sester¬
ces. It was afterwards thought proper to coin 40
pieces out of the pound of gold. And our princes
have by degrees diminished their weight to 45 in ^ie
pound.” This account is confirmed by the pieces
which still remain 5 for we have that very coin weigh¬
ing a scruple, which went for 20 sesterces. On one
side is the head of Mars, and on the other an eagle ;
and it is marked xx. We have another coin of the
same kind, but double, marked xxxx 5 and its triple,
marked i^x or 60} the ip being the old numeral
character for 50. Mr Pinkerton, the discoverer of
this, treats other medallists with great asperity. Sa-
vot and Hardouin are mentioned by name } the latter
(he says) is “ ignorant of common sense 5” and nei¬
ther he nor Savot could explain it but by reading
backward} putting the 4/for the Roman V, andthusmak-
ing it xv. Other readings have been given by vari¬
ous medallists, but none have hit upon the true one
excepting our author, though the coin itsell led to it j
being just three times the weight of that marked xx.
We have likewise half the largest coin, which is mark¬
ed xxx, and which weighs 26 grains } the smallest is
only 17^ J the xxxx weighs 345 and the lx or
drachma 53. There is also the didrachm of this coin¬
age, of 106 grains. < 1
The aurei, or Roman gold coins, were at first 48 inAccou
the pound; hut they were afterwards diminished inttiea,i
number to 40, owing to an augmentation in the weight
of each coin. In the time of Sylla, the aureus weigh¬
ed no less than from 164 to 168 grains, and there were
only 30. in the pound; hut such confusion in the
coinage was introduced by that conqueror, that no
person could know exactly what he was worth. I ill
this time the aureus seems to have continued of the
value of 30 silver denarii, about one pound sterling ;
for about that time it was enlarged a whole third,
that
Aftc
Mo
M E D
lt that it might still he equivalent to the full number of
■f. denarii. But after Sylla had taken Athens, and the
mmJ arts and manners of Gx*eece became objects of imita¬
tion to the Romans, the aureus fell to 40 in the pound,
probably when Sylla had abdicated his dictatorship.
Thus, being reduced near to the scale of the Greek
ffivroi, it passed for 20 denarii, as the latter did for
&s many drachmas, being in currency 13s. 4d. ster¬
ling. “This (says Mr Pinkerton) is the more pro¬
bable, because we know from Suetonius, that the
great Caesar brought from Gaul so much gold, that it
sold for nine times its weight of silver : but the Gallic
gold was of a very base sort.”
In the time of Claudius, the aureus was valued at
zoo sesterii, or 25 silver denarii, at which it conti¬
nued till the time of Heliogabalus, when it fell to about
02 gi*ains at a medium, or rose in number to 55 in the
pound. In the reign of Philip, during which the city
completed its thousandth year, the aureus was coined
/>f two or three sizes. These are impressed with a
head of Rome on one side, and various figures on the
other 5 but the workmanship is so rude, that they are
supposed to have been struck in some of the more un¬
civilized provinces of the empire. The practice of
having different gold coins, however, continued under
Valerian, Gallienus, and his successors. In the time
of Gallienus, they were of 30, 65, and from 86 to 93
grains 5 the double aurei being from 172 to x834-
grains ; but the aureus properly so called was from
136 to 93 *, those of 30 and 32 being the trientes aurei
of the historic? Augustes Scriptores; while the larger,
from 62 to 65, are to be accounted double trientes,
and were perhaps called minuti aurei. The value of
these different sizes of aurei is not known.
ri ' That Aurelian made some alteration in the coin is
old certain 5 but Mr Pinkerton supposes it to have been
de only in the gold *, because under him and his successor
* Probus, the common aureus was of 100 grains, a size
confined to those emperors : there are likewise halves
of about 50 grains \ and double aurei, commonly of
very fine workmanship, of upwards of 200 grains.
In the time of Gallienus, the precious metal was so
common, that this emperor vied in magnificence with
Nero and Heliogabalus. Aurelian, who plundered the
rich city of Palmyra, and thus became master of the
treasures of the east, obtained such a profusion of gold,
that he looked upon it to be produced by nature in
greater plenty than silver. It is remarkable that du¬
ring this emperor’s reign there was a rebellion among
the money coiners, which could not be quelled hut by
the destruction of several thousands ; which Mr Pin¬
kerton ascribes to his having ordered the gold to
be restored to its former size, but to go for no more
silver than it formerly did. “ So very little silver (says
he) occurs of this period, that it is plain no altera¬
tion in the silver produced the v7ar with the mo-
neyers 5 and in the brass he made no change ; or if
he had, it were strange that such commotions should
arise about so trifling a metal. But if, as appears from
the coins, he ordered the aureus, which had fallen to
80 grains, to be raised to about zoo, it is no wonder
that the contractors should be in an uproar } for a;
whole quarter of their coinage, amounting as w'ould
seem, to all their profits, xvas lost. Aurelian judged,
•hat when he found gold so common in the east, it
A L S.
was equally so in the west j and that the moneyers
must have made a most exorbitant profit j but his ideas
on this subject were partial and unjust: and after his
short reign, which did not exceed five months after
the alteration, the gold returned to its former course j
though a few pieces occur of Aurelian’s standard,
struck, as wrould seem, in the commencement of the
reign of Probus his successor.
From this time to that of Constantine I. the aureus
weighed between 70 and 80 grains ; but in his reign
it was changed for the solidus, of which six went to
the ounce of gold, which went for 14 milliarenses, and
25 denax-ii as before; thfe value of silver being now to
gold as 14 to z. This new coin continued of the
same value to the final downfall of the Constantinopo-
htan empire ; gold being always very plentiful in that
city, though silver became more and more scarce. The
solidus was worth x 2s. sterling. Here again our au¬
thor most severely criticises Mr Clarke arid Mr Raper :
the former (he says) with respect to the value of-gold
in the time of Constantine I. “ has left all his senses
behind him. In page 267, he absurdly asserts, that
20 denarii went to the solidus in the time of Theo¬
dosius I. and proceeds with this deplorable error to
the end of his xvork. He then tells us, that only 14
denarii went to the solidus under Constantine I.,” &c.
To Mr Raper, however, he is a little more merciful,
as he owns, that “ though he (Mr Raper) has strange¬
ly confounded the milliarensis with the denai'ius, he
has yet kept common sense for his guide.” Mr Pin¬
kerton, indeed, argues with great probability, “ that
had any change in the coinage taken place between
the time of Constantine and Theodosius I. that is, in
less than 50 years, the laws of that period, which are
all in the Theodosian code, must have noticed it.”
To this and other arguments upon the subject, Mr
Pinkerton adds the following observation upon the va¬
lue of gold and silver : “ As a state advances to its
height, gold increases in value 5 and as a state declines,
it decreases, providing the metals are kept on a par as
to purity. Hence we may argue, that gold decreased
in its relation to silver perhaps four or five centuries,
furnished most European kingdoms with gold in coin,
which otherwise would, from their want of arts and
of intercourse with the east, then the grand seminary
of that metal, have almost been ignorant of what gold
was. These gold coins were called Bezants in Eu¬
rope, because sent from Byzantium or Constantinople *,
and were solidi of the old scale, six to the ounce. In
Byzantine writers, the solidus is also called nomisma.
or “ the coin ;” ert/sinos, because of gold; hyperperos,
from its being refined with fire, or from its being of
bright gold flaming like fire. The sohdi also, as the
aurei formerly, received names from the princes whose
portraits they bore 5 as Michelati, Manuelati. Solidus is
a term used also for the aui'eus by Apuleius, who lived
in the time of Antoninus the Philosopher j nay, as
early as the prxtonan edicts of the tiine of i r&jan.
It was then a distinction from the semissis or halt; ^ In
the time of Aalerian, when aurei of different sizes iiacl
been introduced, it became necessary to distinguish the
particular aurei meant. Htnce in the Impeliai Re¬
scripts', published by the Histories Augustes Scrip-tores,
Valerian uses the term Philippeos nostri vultus, for the
common aurei. Aurelian uses the same term am ei
U 2 Philippei,
155
Ancient
Money.
156 MED
Ancient Philippci, for the anrex which lie had restored to their
Money, size in some degree. Gallienus uses aurei Valeriani
' » for his father’s coins. Aurei Antonini&ni are likewise
put by Valerian for coins of the early Antonini, ot
superior standard to any then used.
Division of In the first gold coinage at Home the aureus was
the aureus divided into four parts : the semissis of 60 sestertii}
the tremissis or third, of 40 5 the fourth, the name of
which is not mentioned, of 30 ; and the scrupulum of
20. But in a short time all of these fell into disuse,
except the semissis or half, which is extremely scarce 5
so that it is probable that few have been struck. It
is an erroneous opinion (according to Mr Pinkerton),
that the semissis was called a denarius aureus. The
aureus itself indeed had this name ; but the name of
quinarius is applied to the semissis with greater proprie¬
ty than the former. Trientes, or tremisses ol gold,
are found of Valerian and his son Gallienus, and weigh
about 30 grains. Those of Salonina the wife of Gal¬
lienus weigh 33 grains. Under the Constantinopo-
litan empire, tremisses again made their appearance ;
and from the time of Valentinian downwards, the
thirds are the most common kinds of gold, being worth
about 4s. sterling. The semissis is likewise mention¬
ed, but none occur earlier than the time of Basiliscus.
The gold tremissis was the pattern of the French and
Spanish gold coins ; as the silver denarius, in its dimi-
73 nished state, was of the Gothic and Saxon penny.
Account of We shall dose this account of the Roman money
tll<?with some remarks concerning the mint, and method
coining- ° coinage. This at first seems to have been under
the direction of the quaestor. About the time that
silver was first coined in Rome, viz. about 266 B. C.
the triumviri mo netales were created. They were at first
of senatorial rank, but-were by Augustus chosen from
among the equestrian *, and the title of triumviri was
continued till after the time of Caracalla; but under
Aurelian there was probably but one master of the
mint, called rationatis; and Mr Pinkerton is of opi¬
nion that the change took place under Gallienus. He
seems also to have permitted the provincial cities to
coin gold and silver, as well as to have altered the form
of the mints in the capital, and to have ordered them
all to strike money with Latin legends, and of the
same forms ; as in his time we fii-st meet with coins
with mint marks of cities and offices. The violent in¬
surrection which took place in his reign has already
been mentioned, as well as its probable cause j and Mi-
Gibbon has shown, that the concealed enemies of Au¬
relian took such advantage of this insurrection, that it
cost 7000 of his best troops before it could be quelled.
About this time the procurator monetce seems to have
succeeded the rationalis as director of the mint. In
the colonies, the direction of the mint seems to have
been given to the decemviri, whose names frequently
occur in colonial coins j “ which (says Mr Pinkerton),
though generally of rude invention, and ruder execu¬
tion, are yet often interesting and important.”
The engx-aving of the ancient dies used in coinage
was a work of much genius and labourand at Rome
Greek artists were generally employed in it; but it
has been thought a matter of great surprise, that scarce
any two ancient coins are to be found exactly the
same. Hence some antiquaries have imagined that
only a single coin was thrown oft from each die. M.
A L S.
Beauvais informs us, that the only two Roman impe- Anc.
rial coins of the first times which he had seen perfect- Mon™
ly alike were those of the emperor Galba. It is, how- -
ever, the opinion of the best judges, that a perfect si¬
milarity betwixt two medals is a very great reason for
supposing one of them to be forged. “ It must also
be observed (says Mr Pinkerton), that the difierences
in coins, apparently from the same die, are often so
minute as to escape an eye not used to microscopic ob¬
servations of this sort. But it would be surprising if
any two ancient coins were now found struck with the
same die j for out of each million issued, not above one
has reached us. Hies soon give way by the violence of
the work, and the ancients had no puncheons nor ma¬
trices, but were forced to engrave many dies for the
same coin. Even in our mint, upon sending for a shil¬
ling’s worth of new halfpence, it will appear that three
or four dies have been used. Sometimes the obverse of
of the die gives way, sometimes the reverse 5 but among
us it is renewed by puncheons, though with variations
in the lettering or other minute strokes j while the an¬
cients were forced to recur to another die differently
engraven. The engravers of the die were called ccela-
tores; other officers employed in the mint were the
spcctutoi-cs, expeciatores, or nunimularii. The melters
were styled fusarii, jhitvarii, and Jiaturarii; those who
adjusted the weight were called te qua tores monetarum
those who put the pieces into the die suppositores, and
those who struck them malleatores. At the head of
each office was an officer named primicerius, and the
foreman was named optio et exactor.'1''
In order to assist the high relief on the coins, the
metal, after being melted and refined, was cast into
bullets, as appears from the ancient coins not being
cut or filed on the edges, but often cracked, and al-
ways rough and unequal. These bullets were then
put into the die, and received the impression by re¬
peated strokes of the hammer, though sometimes a
machine appears to have been used for this purpose:
for Boiterue informs us, that there was a picture of
the Roman mintage in a grotto near Baice, where a
machine was represented holding up a large stone as if
to let it fall suddenly, and strike the coin at once.
None of the ancient money was cast in moulds, except¬
ing the most ancient and very large Roman brass,
commonly called weights, and other Italian pieces of
that sort 5 all the rest being mere forgeries of ancient
and modern times. Some Roman moulds which have
been found are a proof of this; and from these some
medallists have erroneously imagined that the an¬
cients first cast their money in moulds, and then stamp¬
ed it, in order to make the impression more clear and
sharp.
The ancients had some knowledge of the method
of crenating the edges of their coins, which they did
by cutting out regular notches upon them j and of
this kind we find some of the Syrian and ancient con¬
sular coins, with a few others. The former were cast
in this shape, and then struck j but the latter were cre-
nated by incision, to prevent forgery, by showing the
inside of the metal: however, the ancient forgers also
found out a method of imitating this} for Mr Pin¬
kerton informs us, that he had a Roman consular coin,
of which the incisions, like the rest, were plated with
silver over the copper.
Sect,
pr, rya-
Br. and
coff: best
pre ved
by rust
tha avers
the
;
Dil 'lit
kin j of
thi: ist.
S
y h
limi-
■B>is i iu
lid
M E D
Sect. VI. Of the ’Preservation of Medals.
We now come to consider wliat it is that distin¬
guishes one medal from another, and why some are so
highly prized more than others. This, in general,
besides its genuineness, consists in the high degree of
preservation in which it is. This, by Mr Pinkerton,
is called the conservation of medals, and is by him re¬
garded as good and as perfect. In this, he says that
a true judge is so nice, that he will reject even the-
rarest coins if in the least defaced either in the figures
or legend. Some, however, are obliged to content
themselves with those which are a little rubbed, while
those of superior taste and abilities have in their ca¬
binets only such as are in the very state in which they
came from the mint; and such, he says, are the ca¬
binets of Sir Robert Austin, and Mr Walpole, of
Roman silver, at Strawberryhilk It is absolutely ne¬
cessary, however, that a coin be in what is called go :d
preservation ; which in the Greek or Roman-emperors,
and the colonial coins, is supposed to be when the le¬
gends can be read with some difficulty J but when the
conservation is perfect, and the coin just as it came from
the mint, even the most common coins are valuable.
The fine rust, like varnish, which covers the sur¬
face of brass and copper coins, is found to be the best
preserver of them ; and is brought on by lying in a cer¬
tain kind of soil. Gold cannot be contaminated but by
iron mold, which happens when the coin lies in a soil
impregnated with iron ; but silver is susceptible of va¬
rious kinds of rust, principally green and red ; both of
which yield to vinegar In gold and silver coins the
rust must be removed, as being prejudicial ; but in
brass and copper it is preservative and ornamental; a
circumstance taken notice of by the ancients. “ This
fine rust (says Mr Pinkerton), which is indeed a natu¬
ral varnish not imitable by the art of man, is sometimes
a delicate blue, like that of a turquoise; sometimes of
a bronze brown, equal to that observable in ancient sta¬
tues of bronze, and so highly prized ; and sometimes of
an exquisite green, a little on the azure hue, which last
is the most beautiful of all. It is also found of a fine
purple, of olive, and of a cream colour or pale yellow :
which last is exquisite, and shows the impression to as
much advantage as paper of cream colour, used in all
great foreign presses, does copperplates and printing.
The Neapolitan patina (the rust in question) is of a
light green ; and when free from excrescence or blemish
is very beautiful. Sometimes the purple patina gleams
through an upper coat of another colour, with as line
eftect as a variegated silk or gem. In a few instances
a rust of a deeper green is found ; and it is sometimes
spotted with the red or bronze shade, which gives it
quite the appearance of the East Indian stone called the
bloodstone These rusts are all, when the real product
ot time, as hard as the metal itself, and preserve it much
better than any artificial varnish could have done ; con¬
cealing at the same time not the most minute particle
of the impression of the coin.”
The value of medals is lowered when any of the
letters of the legend are misplaced ; as a suspicion of
forgery is thus induced. Such is the case with many
of those of Claudius Gothicus. The same, or even
greater, diminution in value takes place in such coins
A L S.
as have not been well fixed in the die, which has occa¬
sioned their slipping under the strokes of the hammer,
and thus made a double or triple image. Many coins
of this kind are found in which the one side is perfect¬
ly well formed, but the other blundered in the manner
just mentioned. Another blemish, but of smaller mo¬
ment, and which to some may be rather a recommen¬
dation, is when the workmen through inattention have
put another coin into the die without taking out the
former. Thus the coin is convex on one side, and con¬
cave on the other, having the same figure upon both its
sides.
The medals said by the judges in this science to he Countcr-
cou termarked are very rare, and highly valued. They marked
have a small stamp impressed upon them, in some allie^al5'
head, in others a few letters, such as Aug : n. pho-
Bus, &c. which marks are supposed to imply an al¬
teration in the value of the coin; as was the case with
the countermarked coins of Henry \ HI. and Queen
Mary of Scotland. Some have a small hole through
them ; sometimes with a little ring fastened in it, hav--
ing been used as ornaments ; but this makes no al¬
teration in their value. Neither is it any diminution
in the value of a coin that it is split at the edges ; for
cohis of undoubted antiquity have often been found in
this state, the cause of which has been already explain¬
ed. On the contrary, this cracking is generally con¬
sidered as a great merit ; but Mr Pinkerton suspects
that one of these cracked coins has given rise to an
error with respect to the wife of Carausius who reigned
for some time in Britain. The inscription is read
oriuna Aug : and there is a crack in the medal just
before the O of oriuna. M ithout this crack Mr Pin¬
kerton supposes that it would have been read Fortuna
Aug.
Some particular soils have the property of giving-Siher and
silver a yellow colour as if it had been gilt. It natu-gold how
rally acquires a black colour through time,, which any finished,
sulphureous vapour will bring on in- a few minutes.
From its being so susceptible-of injuries, it was al¬
ways mixed by the ancients with much alloy, in or¬
der to harden it. Hence the impressions of the ancient
silver coins remain perfect to this day, while those of-
modern coins are obliterated in a few years. On this
account Mr Pinkerton expresses a wish that modern
states would allow a much greater proportion of alloy
in their silver coin than they usually do. As gold
admits of no rust except that from iron above-mention¬
ed, the coins of this metal are generally in perfect
conservation, and fresh as from the mint.
To cleanse gold coins from this rost, it is best to How to
steep them in aquafortis, which, though a very power-Heanse
ful solvent of other metals, has no effect upon gold.t?lcai' '
Silver may be cleansed by steeping for a day or two
in vinegar, but more effectually by boiling in water-
with three parts of tartar and one of sea salt ;• on both
these metals, however, the rust is always in spots,
and never lorms an entire incrustation as on brass or
copper. The coins of these two metals must never
be cleansed, as they would thus be rendered full of
small holes eaten -by the rust. Sometimes, however,
they are found so totally obscured with rust, that no¬
thing can be discovered upon them ; in which ease it
is best to clear them with a graver ; but it may also
he done by boiling them for 24 hours in water with
three
158
MEDALS.
How to di- three parts of tartar anti one of alum ; not sea salt as in
stinguish silver coins.
The high state of preservation in which ancient
coins are usually found, is thus accounted for by Mr
Hancarville. He observes, that the chief reason is
the custom of the ancient always to bury one or more
coins with their dead, in order to pay for their pas-
— sage over the river Styx. “ From Phi don of Argos
a high (says he) to Constantine I. are 36 generations: and
State of pre-from Magna Grsecia to the Euphrates, from Cyrene
servation. t0 the Euxine sea, Grecian arts prevailed, and the
inhabitants amounted to above 30,000,000. There
died, therefore, in that time and region, not less than
ten thousand millions of people, all of whom had coins
of one sort or other buried with them. The tombs
were sacred and untouched *, and afterwards neglected,
till modern curiosity or chance began to disclose them.
The urn of Flavia Valentina, in Mr Tuwley’s capital
collection, contained seven brass coins of Antoninus
Pius and Heliogabalus. Such are generally black, from
being burnt with the dead. The best and fresh¬
est coins were used on these occasions from respect to
the dead ; and hence their fine conservation. At Sy¬
racuse a skeleton was found in a tomb, with a beautiful
gold coin in its mouth 5 and innumerable other instances
might be given, for hardly is a funeral urn found
without coins. Other incidents also conspire to furnish
us with numbers of ancient coins, though the above-
recited circumstance be the chief cause of perfect
conservation. In Sicily, the silver coins with the head
of Proserpine were found in such numbers as to weigh
600 French livres or pounds. In the 16th century,
60,000 Roman coins were found at Modena, thought
to be a military chest hid after the battle of Bedriacum,
when Otho was defeated by Vitellius. Near Brest, in
the year 1760, between 20 and 30,000 Roman coins
were found. A treasure of gold coins of Lysimachus
was found at Deva on the Marus j and Strabo, lib. vii.
and Pausan. in Attic, tell that he was defeated by the
Getse •, at which time this treasure seems to have fallen
81 into their hands.”
Thus Mr Pinkerton, from the authority of Mr
Hancarville and others: but considering these vast
numbers of coins found in various places, it seems sur¬
prising how so few should now remain in the cabinets
of the curious, as the same author informs us that the
whole of the different ancient coins known to us
amount only to about 80,000, though he owns that the
calculation cannot be esteemed accurate.
Sect. VII. Hoxv to distinguish true Medals from coun¬
terfeits.
The most difficult and the most important thing
in the whole science of medals is the method of di¬
stinguishing the true from the counterfeit. The value
put upon ancient coins made the forgery of them al¬
most coeval with the science itself; and as no laws in¬
flict a punishment upon such forgers, men of great
genius and abilities have undertaken the trade: but
whether to the real detriment of the science or not,
is a matter of some doubt •, for if only exact copies of
genuine medals are sold for the originals, the imposi¬
tion may be deemed trifling: but the case must be ac¬
counted very different, if people take it upon them
to forge medals which never existed. At first the for-
3
Number of
ancient
coins.
geries were extremely gross; and medals were forged How to di.
of Priam, of Aristotle, Artemisia, Hannibal, and most stinguish
of the other illustrious personages of antiquity. Most true from
of these •wei*e done in such a manner, that the fraud
could easily be discovered; but others have imposed
even upon very learned men. Mr Pinkerton mentions
a remarkable medal of the emperor Heraclius, repre¬
senting him in a chariot on the reverse, with Greek
and Latin inscriptions, which Joseph Scaliger and
Lipsius imagined to have been struck in his own time,
but which was certainly issued in Italy in the 1 ytlr
century. “ Other learned men (says our author) have
been strangely misled, when speaking of coins ; for to
be learned in one subject excludes not gross ignorance
in others. Budasus, de Asse, quotes a denarius of
Cicero, M. tull. Erasmus, in one of his Epistles,
tells us with great gravity, that the gold coin oi
Brutus struck in Thrace, KOSON, bears the patriarch
Noah coming out of the ark w'ith his two sons, and
takes the Roman eagle for the dove with the olive
branch. Winkelman, in his letters informs us, that
the email brass piece with Virgil’s head, reverse EPO,
is undoubtedly ancient Roman j and adds, that no
knowledge of coins can be had out of Rome : but
Winkelman, so conversant in statues, knew nothing
of coins. It is from other artists and other produc¬
tions that any danger of deceit arises. And there is
no Wonder that even the skilful are misled by such
artists as have used this trade ; for among them appear 82
the names of Victor Gambello, Giovani del Cavino, Coins for-
called the Paduan, and his son Alessandro Bassiano, ged by ex
likewise of Padua, Benvenuto Cellini, Alessandro
Greco, Leo Aretino, Jacobo da Frezzo, Fcderigo
Bonzagna, and Giovani Jacopo, his brother ; Sebas-
tiano Plumbo, Valerio de Vizenza, Gorlams, a Ger¬
man, Carteron of Holland, and others, all or most of
them of the 16th century j and Cavino the Paduan,
who is the most famous, lived in the middle of
that century. The forgeries of Cavino are held
in no little esteem, being of wonderful execution.
His and those of Carteron are the most numerous,
many of the other artists here mentioned not hav¬
ing forged above two or three coins. Later forger’s
were Dervieu of Florence who confined himself to
medallions, and Cogornier who gave coins of the 30
tyrants in small brass. The chief part of the forgeries
of Greek medals which have come to my knowledge
are of the first mentioned, and a very gross kind, re¬
presenting persons who could never appear upon coin,
such as Priam, iEneas, Plato, Alcibiades, Artemisia,
and others. The real Greek coins were very little
known or valued till the works of Goltzius appeared,
which were happily posterior to the sera of the grand
forgers. Why later forgers have seldom thought of
counterfeiting them cannot be easily accounted lor, if
it is not owing to the masterly workmanship of the ori¬
ginals, which set all imitation at defiance. Forgei’ies,
however, of mosl ancient coins may be met with, and
of the Greek among the rest. 83
“ The forgeries are more conspicuous among the Ro-Roman fo
man medals than any other kind of coins 3 but Ave are Sencs. ““
not to look upon all these as the Avork of modern
artists. On the contrary, we are assured that many
of them were fabricated in the times of the Romans
themselves, some of them being even held in more esti¬
mation than the genuine coins themselves, on account
of
8.5
Ir rial
m ils.
MED
f] r to di- of their being plated, and otherwise executed in a man-
f 8'«ish ner to which modern forgers could never attain. Even
e tronl the ancients held some of these counterfeits in such es-
' enits ’ timation, that Pliny informs us there were frequently
V -y   < many true, denarii given for one false one.”—Caracalla
' is said to have coined money of copper and lead plated
with silver; and plated coins, the work of ancient
forgers, occur of many Greek cities and princes 5 nay,
thei’e are even forgeries of barbaric coins. “ Some
Roman coins (says Mr Pinkerton), are found of iron or
lead plated with brass, perhaps trials of the skill of the
forger. Iron is the most common } but one decursio of
Nero is known of lead plated with copper. Neumann
justly observes, that no historic faith can be put in
plated coins, and that most faulty reverses, &c. arise
from plated coins not being noticed as such. Even of
the Roman consular coins not very many have ever
;; I been forged. The celebrated silver denarius of Brutus,
E arius of with the cap of liberty and two daggers, is the chief iu-
E us> stance of a consular coin of which a counterfeit is known.
But it is easily rejected by this mark : in the true coin
the cap of libei*ty is below the guard or hilt of the
daggers j in the false, the top of it rises above that
hilt.”
The imperial series of medals is the grand object of
modern medallic forgeries ; and the deception was at
first extended to the most eminent writers upon the
subject. The counterfeits are by Mr Pinkerton divi¬
ded into six classes.
I. Such as are known to be imitations, but valued
on account of the artists by whom they are executed.
In this class the medals of the Paduan rank highest 5
the others being so numerous, that a complete series
of imperial medals of almost every kind, nay almost of
every medallion, may be formed from among them. In
France, particularly, by far the greater part of the ca¬
binets are filled with counterfeits of this kind. They
are distinguished from such as are genuine by the fol¬
lowing marks : 1. The counterfeits are almost univer¬
sally thinner. 2. They are never worn or damaged.
3. The letters are modern. 4. They are either desti¬
tute of varnish entirely, or have a false one, which is
easily known by its being black, shining, and greasy,
and very easily hurt by the touch of a needle, while
the varnish of ancient medals is as hard as the metal
itself. Instead of the greasy black varnish above men¬
tioned, indeed, they have sometimes a light green
one, spotted with a kind of iron marks, and is com¬
posed of sulphur, verdigrise, and vinegar. It may
frequently be distinguished by the hairstrokes of the
pencil with which it was laid on being visible upon it.
5. The sides are either filed or too much smoothed
by art, or bear the marks of a small hammer. 6. The
counterfeits are always exactly circular, which is not
the case with ancient medals, especially after the time
of Trajan.
The Paduan forgeries may be distinguished from
i 8(5
j>, an for
ge s h0w'those of inferior artists by the following marks : 1. The
Pin.
former are seldom thinner than the ancient. 2. They
very seldom appear as Avorn or damaged, but the others
very frequently, especially in the reverse, and legend
of the reverse, which sometimes, as in forged Othos,
appear as half consumed by time. 3. The letters in
moulds taken from the antique coins have the rudeness
of antiquity. 4. False varnish is commonly light green
A L S'.
or black, and shines too much or too little. 5. The How to <li
sides of forged coins are frequently quite smooth, and stinguixb
undistinguishable from the ancient, though to accom- tlue from
plish this requires but little art. 6. Counterfeit me¬
dals are frequently as irregular iu their form as the
genuine j but the Paduan are generally circular, though
false coins have often little pieces cut off, in perfect
imitation of the genuine. 7. In cast coins, the letters
do not go sharp down into the medal, and have no fix¬
ed outline j their minute angles, as well as those of
the drapery, are commonly filled up, and have not the
sharpness of the genuine kind. Where the letters or
figures are faint, the coin is greatly to be suspected.
The letters form the great criterion of medals, the betters the
ancient being very rude, but the modern otherwise : principal
the reason of which, according to Cellini, is, that the cliterion of
ancients engraved all their matrices with the graver ormedals*
burin, while the modern forgers strike theirs with a
punch. g8
According to Vico, the false patina is green, black, Vico’s ac-
russet, brown, gray, and iron colour. The green iscouHt of
made from verdigrise, the black is the smoke of Sul-la]sePatina-
phur, the gray is made of chalk steeped in urine, the
coin being left for some days in the mixture. The rus¬
set is next to the natural, by reason of its being a
kind of froth which the fire forces from ancient coins j
hut when false, it shines too much. To make it they
frequently took the large brass coins of the Ptolemies,
which were often corroded, and made them red hot in
the fn-e ; put the coins upon them, and a fine patina
adhered. Our author does not say in what manner
the iron-coloured patina was made. “ Sometimes
(adds he) they take an old defaced coin, covered with
real patina, and stamp it anew } but the patina is then
too bright in the cavities, and too dull in the protu¬
berances, The trial of brass coins with the tongue is
not to he despised} for if modern the patina tastes bit¬
ter or pungent, while if ancient it is quite tasteless.”
Mr Pinkerton informs us, that all medallions from
Julius Caesar to Adrian are much to be suspected of for¬
gery the true medals of the first 14 emperors being
exceedingly valuable, and to be found only in the cabi¬
nets of princes.
II. The second class of counterfeit medals contains Medalscast
those cast from moulds taken from the Paduan forge-fr°ni the
ries, and others done by eminent masters. These are I a(!uan for'
sometimes more difficult to be discovered than the for-^enCS‘
mer, because in casting them they can give any degree
of thickness they please 5 and, filling the small sand-
holes with mastic, they retouch the letters with a gra¬
ver, and cover the whole with varnish. The instruc¬
tions already given for the former class, however, are
also useful for those of the secoud, with this addition,
that medals of this class are generally lighter than the
genuine, because fire rarefies the metal in some degree,
while that which is struck is rather condensed by the.
strokes. In gold and silver medals there cannot be
any deception of this kind; because these metals ad¬
mit not of patina, and consequently the varnish be¬
trays the imposition. The marks of the file on the
margin of those of the second class are a certain sign
of forgery 5 though these do not always indicate the
forgery to be of modern date, because the Romans
often filed the edges of coins to accommodate them to
the purposes of ornament, as quarter guineas are some¬
times
i6o
M E B A L S.
9o
Medals cast
tique.
yx
Ancient
medals re¬
touched.
-flow to di-times put into tlie tiottdtll of pdncK ladles. It is com-
stinguislx ni^n to imitate tbe holes of medals made by time by
means of aquafortis ; but this destroys the sides of
a coin more effectually than if it had been eat into
naturally. The fraud, however, is not easily distin¬
guished.
     HI. Meilds cast in moulds fi'oni an antique.—this
from an an-.motje some-forgers, as Beauvais informs us, have been
so very careful, that they would melt a common me¬
dal of the emperor whom they meant to counterfeit,
lest the quality of the metal should betray them.
“ This (says Mr Pinkerton), has been done in the sil¬
ver Septimius Severus, with the reverse of a trium¬
phal arch, for which a common coin of the same prince
has been melted 5 and in other instances.” Putting me¬
dals in the fire or upon hot iron to clease them, gives
them an appearance of being cast j for some spots of the
metal being softer than the rest will run, which makes
this one of the worst methods of cleaning medals.-—
The directions given for discovering the two former
deceptions hold good also in this.
IV. Ancient Medals retouched and altered.—This is
a class of counterfeits more difficult to he discovered
than any other. “ The art (says Mr Pinkerton) ex¬
erted in this class is astonishing •, and a connoisseur is
the less apt to suspect it, because the coins themselves
are in fact ancient. The acute minds of the Italian
artists exerted themselves in this -way, when the other
foro-eries became common and known. With graving-
tools they‘alter the portraits, the reverses, and the in¬
scriptions themselves, in a surprising manner. Of a
Claudius struck at Antioch they make an Otho j of
a Faustina, a Titiana j of a Julia Severn, a Didia
Clara } of a Macrinus, a Pescenuius, &c. Give them
a Marcus Aurelius, he starts up a Pcrtinax, by thicken¬
ing the beard a little, and enlargiilg the nose. In short,
wherever there is the least resemblance in persons/ re¬
verses, or legends, an artist may from a trivial me¬
dal generate a most scarce and valuable one. This
fraud is distinguishable by the false varnish which some¬
times masks it; but, above all, by the letters of the
legend, which are always altered. ^Though this be
sometimes done with an artifice almost miraculous, yet
most commonly the characters straggle, are disunited,
and not in a finfev’
In counterfeits of this kind sometimes the obverse is
not touched, but the reverse made hollow, and filled
with mastic coloured like the coin, and engraven with
such device and legend as was most likely to bring a
great price ; others are only retouched in some minute
parts, by which, however, the value of the coin is
much diminished. “ Against all these arts (says Mr
Pinkerton), severe scrutiny must be made by the pur¬
chaser upon the medal itself*, and the investigation and
opinion of eminent antiquaries had upon its being.al¬
tered, or genuine as it is issued from the mint.”
V. Medals impressed with new devices, or soldered.
 In the first article of this class the reverses have been.
totally filed oft', and new ones impressed with a die
and hammer. This is done by putting the face, on
obverse, whichever is not touched, upon different folds •
of pasteboard, afterwards applying the die and strik¬
ing it with a hammer. The forgery in this class is
very easily discovered, as the devices and inscriptions
on the counterfeits are known not to exist on true
* 92
Medals
with new
devices, 01*
Eoldered.
as the Pons iElius on the reverse of Adrian : jjf.v ^
same emperor, &c. sdngmsh'
the face or reverse true fron.
medals
the Expeditio Judaica ol the
The difference of fabrication
will be discovered at the first glance by any person of
skill.
The soldered medals consist of two halves belong¬
ing to different medals, sawed through the middle and
then joined with solder. This mode of counterfeiting
is common in silver and brass coins. “ They will
take an Antoninus, for example, and saw off the re¬
verse, then solder to the-obverse which they have treat¬
ed in the same manner. This makes a medal, which,
from an unknowing purchaser, will bring a hundred
times the price of the two coins, which compose it.
When the deceit is used in brass coins, they take care
that the metals be of one hue j though indeed some
pretenders in this wray sometimes solder copper and
brass together, which at once reveals the deceit. Me¬
dals which have a portrait on each side, and which
are generally valuable, are the most liable to a suspi¬
cion of this fraud. To a very nice eye the minute
ring of-solder is always visible j and upon inserting a
graver, the fabrication falls into halves.”
In the same manner reverses are sometimes soldered
to faces not originally belonging to them ) as one. men- .
tioned by Pere Jobert, of Domitian- with an amphi¬
theatre, a reverse of Titus joined to it. Another art
is sometimes made use of in this kind of counterfeits,
of which there is an instance in the temple of Janus
upon Nero’s medals ; where the middle brass is taken
off’, and inserted in a cavity made in the middle of a
large coin of that prince. In the coins of the lower
empire, however, the reverses of medals are sometimes
so connected with their obverses, that a suspicion of
forgery sometimes occurs without any foundation.
They are met with most. commonly after the time of
Gallienusy when suck a number of usurpers arose, that
it was difficult to obtain an exact portrait of their fea¬
tures *, the coiners had not time, therefore, to strike
a medal for these-as they could have done for other
emperors who reigned longer. Hence, on the reverse
of a medal of Marius, who reigned only three days,
there is pacator orris, which shows that at that
time they hatl reverses ready fabricated, to. be applied
as occasion might require. ^
- VI. Plated medals, or those which have cfo/?.?..—It plated m
has been already remarked, that many true medals are dais, &c.
cracked in the edges 5 owing to the repeated strokes
of the hammer, and the little degree of ductility which
the metal possesses. This the forgers attempt to imi¬
tate by a file j but it is easy to distinguish betwixt the
natural and-artificial cleft by means of a small needle.
The natural cleft is wide at the extremity, and appears
to have a kind of almost imperceptible filaments the
edges of the crack corresponding with .each other in
a manner which no art can imitate.
^The plated medals which have been forged in an¬
cient times were long supposed to be capable of resist¬
ing every effort of modern imitation 5 hut of late
years, “ some ingenious rogues (says Mr Pinkerton),
thought of piercing false medals of silver ivith a red-
hot needle, which gave a blackness to the inside of
the coin, and made it appear plated to an injudicious
eye. This fraud is easily distinguished by scraping the
inside of the metal.” , It is, however, very difficult to
distinguish
MED
jf^vi di-distinguish, tlie forgeries of rude money, when not cast j
stint!ili and our author gives no other direction than to consult
true |'in a skilful medallist. Indeed, notwithstanding all the
c0^ l~ directions already given, this seems to be a resource
_ which cannot by any means with safety be neglected.
„ A real and practical knowledge of coins “ is only to
Mr P ter-be acquired (says he) by seeing a great number, and
ton’s ec'comparing the forged with the genuine. It cannot
therefore be too much recommended to the young
medal connoisseur, who wishes to acquix-e some knowledge in
this way, to visit all the sales and cabinets he can, ami
to look upon all ancient medals with a very mici’osco-
pic eye. By these means only is to be acquired that
ready knowledge which enables at first glance to pro¬
nounce upon a forgery, however ingenious. Nor let
the science of medals be fi’om this concluded to be un¬
certain 5 for no knowledge is more certain and imme¬
diate, when it is properly studied by examination of
the real objects. A man who buys coins, trusting
merely to his theoretic perusal of medallic books, will
find himself wofully mistaken. He ought to study
coins first, where only they can be studied, in them¬
selves. Nor can it be matter of wonder or implica¬
tion of caprice, that a medallist of skill should at one
perception pronounce upon the veracity or falsehood
of a medal j for the powers of the human eye, em¬
ployed in certain lines of science, are amazing. Hence
a student can distinguish a book among a thousand si¬
milar, and quite alike to every other eye : hence a
shepherd can discern, &c.; hence the medallist can
say in an instant, ‘ this is a true coin, and this is a
false,’ though to other people no distinction be pcrcep-
9 title.”
Forge » Forgeries of modern coins and medals, Mr Pinker-
■daT U *°n °^serves> are almost as numerous as of the ancient.
The satii-ic coin of Louis XII. Perdam Babylonis
nomen, is ai'emarkable instance: the false coin is larger
than the true, and bears the date 1512. The rutle coins
of the middle ages are very easily forged, and forgeries
have accordingly become common. Forged coins of
Alfred and other early princes of England have ap¬
peared, some of which have been done with great art.
“ The two noted English pennies of Rich. I. says our
author, are of this stamp 5 and yet have imposed xxpon
Messrs Folkes and Snelling, who have published them
as genuine in the two best books upon English coins.
But they were fabricated by a Mr White of New-
gate-street, a noted collector, who contaminated an
otherwise fair character by such practices. Such for¬
geries, though easy, require a skill in the history and
coinage of the times, which luckily can hai’dly fall to
the lot of a common Jew or mechanic forger. But
the practice is detestable, were no gain proposed : and
they who stoop to it must suppose, that to embarrass
the path of any science with forgery and futility, im¬
plies no infamy. In forgeries of ancient coin, the
fiction is perhaps sufficiently atoned for by tbe vast
skill required ; and the artist may plausibly allege, that
113 ifdention was not to deceive, but to excite his ut¬
most powers, by an attempt to rival the ancient ma¬
sters. But no possible apology can be made for for¬
ging the rude money of more modern times. The
crime is certainly greater than that which leads the
common coiner to the gallows ; inasmuch as it is com-
^QL. XIII. Part L
A L S>-
mitted with more ease, and the profit is incomparablv yajue
larger.” J ■ "
Sect. VIII. Of the Value of Medals.
All ancient coins and medals, though equally ge¬
nuine, are not equally valuable. In medals as'well
as in every thing else, the scarcity of a coin stamps a
value upon it which caiinot otherwise be derived from
its intrinsic worth. There are four or five degrees of
rarity reckoned up; the highest of which is° called
unique. The cause is generally ascribed to the fewness
of number thrown off originally, or to their having been
called in, and recoined in another form. To the for¬
mer cause Mr Pinkerton ascribes the scarcity of the cop¬
per of Otho and the gold of Pescennius Niger; to the.
latter that of the coinage of Oaligula ; 44 though this last
(says he) is not of singular rarity ; which shows that
even the power of the Roman senate could not annihi¬
late an established money; and that the first cause of
rarity, arising from the small quantity originally struck,
ought to be regarded as the principal.”
In the ancient cities Mr Pinkerton ascribes the scar- Causes of ’
city of coin to the poverty or smallness of the state ; tbe scarcity
but the scarcity of ancient regal and imperial coinsof medals
arises principally from the shortness of the reign ; and.*1? ?ncicot
sometimes from the superabundance of money before,ClUeS‘
which rendered it almost unnecessary to coin any
money during the reign of the prince. An example
of this we have in the scarcity of the shillings of
George III. which shows that shortness of reign does
not always occasion a scarcity of coin: and thus the
coins of Harold II. who did not reign a year, are very
numerous, while those of Richard I. who reigned ten,
are almost unique.
Sometimes the rarest coins lose their value, and be- Ranfcoint
come common. T his our author ascribes to the high sometimes
price given for them, which tempts the possessors to,jecome
bring them to market; but chiefly to the discovering™™"^’
of hoards of them. The former cause took place with vena.
Queen Anne’s farthings, some of which formerly sold
at five guineas ; nay, if we could believe the newspapers,
one of them was some years ago sold for 960I. ; the lat¬
ter with the coins of Canute, the Danish king of Eng¬
land ; which were very rare till a hoard of them was dis¬
covered in the Orkneys. As discoveries of this kind,
however, produce a temporary plenty, so when they
are dispersed the fermer scarcity returns ; while, on the
other hand, some of the common coins become rare
through the mere circumstance of neglect.
As double the number of copper coins of Greek Silver coins,
cities are to be met with that there arc of silver, the*11 w*iat
latter are of consequence muck more esteemed : but
the reverse is the case with those ol the Greek princes.
All the Greek civic coins of silver are very rare, ex¬
cepting those of Athens, Corinth, Messana, Dyrrha-
chium, Massilia, Syracuse, and some others. Of the
Greek monarchic coins, the most rare are the tetra-
drachms of the kings of Syria, the Ptolemies, the so¬
vereigns of Macedon and Bithynia, excepting those of
Alexander the Great and Lysimachus. Those of the
kings of Cappadocia are of a small size, and scarce to
be met with. Of those of Numidia and Mauritania,
the coins of Juba, the father, are common ; but those
X of
2
162
M E D
S.
Value.
99
Greek cop¬
per coins.
IQO
Roman con
sular coins.
ioi
XiCadenRo
man coins.
102
Of coins
■blundered
in the
mintage.
of the son, and nephew Ptolemy, scarce. Coins of the
kings of Sicily, Pasthia, and Judea, are rare; the
last very much so. We meet with no coins of the
kings of Arabia and Comagene except in brass ; those
of the kings of Bosphorus are in electrum, and a few
in brass, but all of them rare ; as are likewise those
of Philefenis king of Pergamus, and of the kings of
Pontus. In the year 1777, a coin of Mithridates sold
for 26k 5s. Didrachms of all kings and cities are
scarce, excepting those of Corinth and her colonies y
but the gold coins ol Philip of Macedon, Alexander
the Great, and Lysimachus, as has already been ob¬
served, are common. The silver tetradrachms of all
kings bear a very high price. The didrachm of Alex¬
ander the Great is one of the scarcest of the smaller
Greek silver coins; some of the other princes are not
uncommon.
In most cases the copper money of the Greek mo-
narchs is scarce } but that of Hiero I. of Syracuse is
uncommonly plenty, as well as that of several of the
Ptolemies.
The most rare of the consular Homan coins are those
restored by Trajan : of the others the gold consular
coins are the most rare, and the silver the most c0511"
mon y excepting the coin of Brutus with the cap of
liberty, already mentioned, with some others. Some
of the Roman imperial coins are very scarce, particu¬
larly those of Otho in brass •, nor indeed does he occur
at all on any coin struck at Rome : but the reason of
this may with great probability be supposed to have
been the shortness of his reign. His portrait upon
the brass coins of Egypt and Antioch is very bad . as
well as almost all the other imperial coins of Greek
cities. The best likeness is on his gold and silver
coins •, the latter of which are very common. The
Greek and Egyptian coins are all of small or middling
sizes, and have reverses of various kinds : those of An¬
tioch have Latin legends, as well as most of the other
imperial coins of Antioch. They have no other re\erse
but the SC in a wreath y excepting in one instance or
two of the large and middle brass, where the. insci ip-
tions are in Greek. Latin coins of Otho m brass,
with figures on the reverse, are certainly false} though
in the cabinet of D’Ennery at Paris there was an Otho
in middle brass restored by Titus, which was esteemed
genuine by connoisseurs.
The leaden coins of Rome are very scarce : Most
of them are pieces struck or cast on occasion of the
saturnalia y others are tickets for festivals and exhi¬
bitions, both private and public. The common tickets
for theatres were made of lead, as were the contorniuti;
perpetual tickets, like the English silver tickets for
the opera. Leaden medallions are also found below
the foundations of pillars and other public buildings,
in order to perpetuate the memory of the founders.
From the time of Augustus also we find that leaden
seals were used. The work of Ticorini upon this sub¬
ject, entitled Piombi Antiochi, is much recommended
by Mr Pinkerton.
The Roman coins, which have been blundered m
the manner formerly mentioned, are very rare, and un¬
deservedly valued by the connoisseurs. The blunders
in the legends of these coins, which in all probability
are the mere effects of accident, have been.so far. mis¬
taken by some medallists, that they have given rise to
Purchase,
A E
imaginary emperors who never existed. A com of
Faustina, which has on the reverse SOUSTI. s. c. puz¬
zled all the German antiquaries, till at last Klotz gave
it the following facetious interpretation : Sine omniuti-
litate sectamini tantas inephas. 103
The heptarchic coins of England are generally rare, Heptarcld
except those called stye as, which are very common, as!»f
well as those of Burgred king of Mercia. The coins g
of Alfred which bear his bust are scarce, and Ins other
money much more so. Those of Hardyknute are so
rare, that it was even denied that they had an exist¬
ence^ but Mr Pinkerton informs us, that there are
three in the British museum, upon all of which the
name HarTHCANUT is quite legible. No English
coins of King John are to be met with, though there
are some Irish ones j and only I rench coins of Richaid I.
“ Leake (says Mr Pinkerton) made a strange blun¬
der, in ascribing coins of different kings with two faces,
and otherwise spoiled in the stamping, to this prince 5
in which, as usual, he has been followed by a misled
number.” 104,
Coins of Alexander II. of Scotland are rather scarce, Scottisli
but those of Alexander III. are more plentiful. Those coins,
of John Baliol are rare, and none of Edward Baliol are
to be found.
Sect. IX. Of the Purchase of Medals.
Medals are to be had at the shops of goldsmiths
and silvermiths, with those who deal in curiosities,
&c. but in great cities there are professed dealers in
them. The best method of purchasing medals, how¬
ever, is that of buying whole cabinets, which are every
year exposed to auction in London. In these the rare
medals are sold by themselves : but the common ones
are put up in large lots, so that the dealers commonly
purchase them. Mr Pinkerton thinks it would be
better that medals were sold one by one j because a
lot is often valued and purchased for the sake of a
single coin y' while the others separately would sell for
perhaps four times the price of the whole lot. “ If
any man of common sense and honesty (says Mr Pin¬
kerton), were to take up the trade of selling coins in
London, he would make a fortune in a short time. This
profitable business is now in the hands of one or two
dealers, who ruin their own interest by making an ele¬
gant study a trade of knavery and imposition. If they
buy 300 coins for 10s. they will ask 3s. for one of the
worst of them ! nay, sell forged coins as true to the ig¬
norant. The simpletons complain of want of business.
A knave is always a fool.” lC
The gold coins of Carthage, Cyrene, and Syracuse, I
are worth about twice their intrinsic value as metal; Car
but the other gold civic coins from 5I.. to 30I. each.^ge,
The only gold coins of Athens certainly known to
exist are two lately procured by the king. One of
these remains in possession of his majesty, but the other
was given by the queen to Dr Hunter. There was
another in the British museum, but suspected not to
be genuine. Dr Hunter’s coin, then, if sold, would
bear the highest price that could be expected for a
coin
The silver coins of Syracuse, Dyrrhachium, Mass!-
... . p . .... —   thec
lia, Athens, and a few other states, are common,
drachmas and coins of lesser size are worth about
five
$
I ta
MED
p^nse. five sliillings •, the clidraclims, tctradrachms, &c. from
» i— —J £ve to ten, according to their size and beauty; the
4 largest, as might naturally be expected, being more
valuable than the small ones. The tetradrachms, when
of cities whose coins are common, are worth from 7s.
6d. to il. is.but it is impossible to put a value upon
the rare civic coins j ten guineas have been given for
f a single one.
Grei cop- The Greek copper coins are common, and are almost
el'‘ 1S' all of that kind called small brass; the middle size be¬
ing scarce, and the largest in the ages prior to the Ivo-
nian emperors extremely so. The common Greek coins
of brass bring from 3d. to i8d. according to their pre¬
servation } but when of cities, whose coins are rare,
much higher prices are given. “ The want of a few
cities, however, (says Mr Pinkerton), is not thought to
injure a collection; as indeed new names are discover¬
ed every dozen of years, so that no assortment can be
perfect. To this it is owing that the rarity of the Gre-
s. cian civic coins is not much attended to.”
Col. oins g0]t| cojns 0f Philip antl Alexander the Great
,v ex- being very common, bear but from live to ten shillings
t» and' above their intrinsic value j but those of the other
t princes, being rare, sell from 3I. to 30I. each, or even
more.
The tetradrachms are the dearest of the silver mo¬
narchic money, selling from five to ten shillings ; and
if very rare, from 3I. to 30I. Half these prices may
be obtained for the drachmas, and the other denomina-
1 9 tions in proportion.
j Gre cop- Yhe Greek copper coins are for the most part scar-
■ P6orr anrse cer than the silver, except the Syro-Grecian, which
t thai ie are common, and almost all of the size called small
j til* brass. They ought (says Mr Pinkerton), to bear a
high price ; but the metal and similarity to the cop-
, per civic coins, which are common, keep their actual
purchase moderate, if the seller is not well instructed,
and the buyer able and willing to pay the price ol
, rarity.”
The name of weights given to the ancient Roman
ases is, according to our author, exceedingly improper 5
as that people had weights of lead and brass sides,
without the least appearance of a portrait upon them.
These denote the weight by a certain number ot knobs j
and have likewise small jleurettes engraved upon them.
According to Mr Pinkerton, whenever we meet with a
piece of metal stamped on both sides with busts and
figures, we may lay it down as a certain rule that it is
a coin ; but when slightly ornamented and marked up¬
on one side only, we may with equal certainty conclude
:o it to be a weight.
a °fthe The ancient Roman ases are worth from 2s. to 2l.
maC according to the singularity of their devices. Consu-
ses' lar gold coins are worth from il. to 5I. Pompey with
his sons 21I. and the two Bruti 25I. The silver coins
are.universally worth from a shilling to half a crown,
excepting that of the cap of liberty and a tew others,
which, if genuine, will bring from 10s. to 5I. Ihe
consular copper bears an equal price with the silver, but
is more rare 5 the consular silver coins restored by Tra¬
jan are worth 20s. each.
With regard to the Roman imperial coins, it is to
I
vviiu regard to tne rvoman imperial eums, n. ra ^
be observed, that some of those which belong to princes
whose coins are numerous, may yet be rendered ex¬
tremely valuable by uncommon reverses. Mr Pinker-
A L S. 163
ton particularly points out that of Augustus, with the Arrange-
legend C. Marivs Trogvs, which is worth three 1,iieilt, &LC'l
guineas, though the silver coins of that prince in ge¬
neral are not worth above a shilling. In like manner,
the common gold coins of Trajan are not worth above
twenty shillings ; while those with Basilica Ulpia, Fo¬
rum Trajaniy JDivi Nerva ct Frajanus, Pater, Dil i
JSlerva et Platina Aug. Prqfectio Aug. Begna Assignata,
Rex Part/ius, and some others, bear from three to six
pounds. The ticket medals belong to the Roman se¬
nate, and are worth from three to ten shillings. The
forged coins and medallions of the Paduan sell from one
to three shillings each. iti
Of the coins of other nations, those of Hilderic Barbaric
king of the Vandals are in silver, and worth 10s. j001118,
the small brass of Athanaric, 5s. •, the gold of Theo-
doric 2l. j the second brass of Theodahat 5s. •, the
second brass of Badueta rare, and worth 10s. j the
third brass, 3s. The British coins are very rare, anti
worth from ten shillings to twro guineas each, some¬
times much more. Medals with unknown characters
are always scarce and dear. Saxon pennies of the
heptarchy are rare, and worth from ten shillings to
tc?i pounds, according to their scarcity and preserva¬
tion. The coins of the English kings are common $
those of Edward the Confessor, in particular 5 others
are rare, and worth from ten shillings to two guineas,
while two of Hardyknute are worth no less than ten
guineas. The gold medals of Henry, in I545> an<^
the coronation of Edward, are worth 20I. each : the
Mary of Trezzo, 3I. j Simon’s head of Thurloe in
gold is worth 121. his oval medal in gold upon
Blake’s naval victory at sea is wmrth 3s!. j and his
trial piece, if brought to a sale, would, in Mr Pinker¬
ton’s opinion, bring a still higher price. The medals
of Queen Anne, which are intrinsically worth about
two guineas and a half, sell for about 3I. each j the
silver, of the size of a crown piece, sell for ics. and
the copper from five to ten shillings. Dassier’s copper
pieces sell from two to five shillings, and a few bear a
higher price. i/12-
The Scottish gold coins sell higher than the Eng-Gold coins
lish, but the others are on a par. The shilling of Mary
with the bust is rare, and sells for no less than 30I. •,
the half 3I. 5 and the royal 5I. 3s. The French testoon
of Francis and Mary brings 10I. 10s. and the Scottish
one of Mary and Henry would bring 50]. as wrould
also the medal of James IV. The coronation medal ol
Francis and Mary is worth 20I. _ Briot’s coronation
medal sold in 1755 only for two guineas at Dr Mead’s
sale •, but would now bring 20I. if sold according to
rarity. 113
The English coins struck in Ireland are of much the English
same price with those of the native country’, but thep°ins struck
St Patrick’s halfpence and farthings are rather scarce,111 u'eliua'
and the rare crown of white metal is worth 4I. The
gun-money of James H. and all other Irish coins are
very common.
Sect. X. Arrangement of Medals, with the Instruction
to be derived from them.
Having thus given a full account of every thing in
general relative to medals, we must now come to some
particulars respecting their arrangement,-and the enter-
r X 2 > ■ " Jtainmeut
) 6+
114
Diadem an
M E J)
tainment wliicli a medallist may expect from the trouble
and expence he is at making a collection.
It has already been observed, that one of the prin¬
ciple uses of medals is the elucidation ot ancient hi¬
story. Hence the arrangement of his medals is the
first thing that must occur in the formation of a cabi¬
net. The most ancient medals with which we are ac¬
quainted are those of Alexander I. of Macedon, who
Began to reign about 501 years before Christ. The
series ought of consequence to begin with him, and to
be succeeded by the medals of Sicily, Caria, Cyprus,
Heraclia, and Pontus. Then follow Egypt, Syria,
the Cimmerian Bosphorus, Thrace, Bithynia, Par-
thia, Armenia, Damascus, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia,
Pergamus, Galatia, Cilicia, Sparta, Paeonia, Epirus,
Illyricum, Gaul, and the Alps, including the space of
time from Alexander the Great to the birth of Christ,
and which is to be accounted the third medallic series
of ancient monarchs. The last series goes down to
the fourth century, including some of the monarchs
of Thrace, Bosphorus, and Parthia, with those of
Comagene, Edessa or Osrhoene, Mauritania, and Ju¬
daea. A most distinct series is formed by the Roman
emperors, from Julius Caesar to the destruction of
Rome by the Goths •, nay, for a much longer period,
were it not that tow'ards the latter part of it the coins
become so barbarous as to destroy the beauty of the
collection. Many series may be formed of modern po¬
tentates.
By means of medals we can with great certainty
cmientem-determine the various ornaments worn by ancient
princes as badges of distinction. The Grecian kings
have generally the diadem, without any other orna¬
ment j and though in general the side of the face is
presented to view, yet in some very ancient Greek and
Roman consular coins, full faces of excellent work¬
manship are met with. On several coins also two or
three faces are to be seen, and these are always ac¬
counted very valuable.
The diadem, which was no more than a ribbon tied
round the head with a floating knot behind, adorns
all the Grecian princes from first to last, and is almost
an infallible mark of sovereign power. In the Roman
consular cohos it is seen in conjunction with Numa and
Ancus, but never afterwards till the time of Licinius,
the colleague of Constantine. Dioclesian, indeed, ac¬
cording to Mr Gibbon, first wore the diadem, but his
portrait upon coins is never adorned with it. So great
an aversion had the Romans to kingly powrer, that
they rather allowed their emperors to assume the ra¬
diated crown, the symbol of divinity, than to wear a
diadem y but, after the time of Constantine, it becomes
common. The radiated crown appears first on the
posthumous coins of Augustus as a mark of deifica¬
tion, but in somewhat more than a century became
common.
The laurel crown, at first a badge of conquest, was
afterwards permitted by the senate to be worn by Ju¬
lius Caesar, in order to hide the baldness of his head.
■From him all the emperors appear with it on thoir
medals, even to our own times. In the lower empire
the crown is sometimes held by a hand above the head,
as a mark of piety. Besides these, the naval, mural,
and civic crowns appear on tfae medals both of empe¬
rors, and other eminent men, to denote their great ac-
A L S.
blem of
sovereign
authority.
tions. The laurel crown is also sometimes worn by \m.
tbe Greek princes. The Arsacidae of Parthia wear ment,!
a kind of sash round the head, with their hair in rows 1—y.
of curls like a wig. The Armenian kings have the
tiara, a kind of cap which was esteemed the badge of
imperial power in the east. Conical caps are seen on
the medals of Xerxes, a petty prince of Armenia, and
Juba the father, the former having a diadem around
... . iii
The impious vanity of Alexander and his successors Symbo
in assuming divine honours is manifest on their medals,divinit
where various symbols of divinity are met with. Some ^COi
of them have the horn behind their ear, either to de- an(1y!
note their strength, or that they were the successors ofcessorl
Alexander, to whom this badge might be applied as
the son of Jupiter Ammon. This, however, Mr
Pinkerton observes, is the only one of these symbols
which certainly denotes an earthly sovereign, it being
doubted whether the rest are not all figures of gods.—
According to Eckhet, even the horn and diadem be¬
long to Bacchus, who invented the latter to cure his
headaches 3 and, according to the same author, the
only monarch who appears on coins with the horn is
Lysimachus. We are informed, however, by Plutarch,
that Pyrrhus had a crest of goats horns to his helmet j
and the goat, we know, was a symbol of Macedon.
Perhaps the successors of Alexander wore this badge
of the horn in consequence. The helmet likewise fre¬
quently appears on the heads of sovereigns, and Con¬
stantine I. has helmets of various forms curiously orna¬
mented.
The diadem is worn by most of the Greek queens,
by Orodaltis, daughter of Lycomedes, king of Bithy¬
nia ; and though the Roman empresses never appear
with it, yet this is more than compensated by the va¬
riety of their headdresses. Sometimes the bust of an
empress is supported by a crescent, to imply that she
was the moon, as her husband was the sun of the state.
The toga, or vail drawn over the face, at first implied
that the person was invested with the pontifical office;
and accordingly we find it on the busts of Julius Coesar,
while pontifex maximus. It likewise implies the au-
gurship, the augurs having a particular kind of gown
called lana, with which they covered their heads when
observing an omen. In latter times this implies only
consecration, and is common in coins of empresses.
It is first met with on the coins of Claudius Gothicus
as the mark of consecration of an emperor. The
nimbus, or glory, now appropriated to saints, has been
already mentioned. It is as ancient as Augustus, but
is not to he met with on many of the imperial medals,
even after it began to be appropriated to them. There
is a curious coin, which has upon the reverse of the
common piece, with the head of Rome, Urbs Roma,
in large brass, Constantine I. sitting amid Victories
and genii, with a triple crown upon his head for Eu¬
rope, Asia, and Africa, with the legend Securitas
RoMiE.
In general only the bust is given upon medals, For
though sometimes half the body or more *, in which up®1 ’’
latter case the hands often appear with ensigns of nia- JS
jesty in them j such as the globe, said to have been in¬
troduced by Augustus as a symbol of universal domi¬
nion ; the sceptre, sometimes confounded with the con¬
sular staff) a roll of parchment, the symbol of legisla¬
tive
MED
tive power ; and an handkerchief,expressive of the poAver
&c. over the public games, where the emperor gave the
signal. Some princes hold a thunderbolt, showing that
their ponver on earth Avas equal to that of Jupiter in
heaven, Avhile others hold an image of Victory.
Medals likewise afford a good number of portraits
of illustrious men ; but they cannot easily be arranged
in chronological order, so that a series of them is not
to be expected. It is likeAvise vain to attempt the
formation of a series of gods and goddesses to be found
en ancient coins. Mr Pinkerton thinks it much bet¬
ter to arrange them under the several cities or kings
Avhose names they bear. A collection of the portraits
of illustrious men may likeAvise be formed from medals
^ of modern date.
ses of The reverses of ancient Greek and Roman coins
and afford an infinite variety of instruction and amusement.
11 They contain figures of deities at full length, Avith
their attributes and symbols, public symbols and diver¬
sions, plants, animals, &c. &c. and in short almost
every object of nature or art. Some have the portrait
of the queen, son, or daughter of the prince whose image
appears en the face obverse ; and these are esteemed
highly by antiquaries, not only because every coin
stamped with portraits on both sides is accounted valu¬
able, but because they render it certain that the person
represented on the reverse Avas the wife, son, or daughter
of him Avho appears on the obverse •, by Avhich means
they assist greatly in the adjusting of a series. Some,
hoAvever, Avith two portraits are common, as Augustus,
the reverse of Caligula ; and Marcus Aurelius, reverse
of Antoninus Pius.
We find more art and design in the reverses of the
Roman medals than of the Greek ; but on the other
hand, the latter have more exquisite relief and Avork-
manship. The very ancient coins have no reverses,
excepting a rude mark struck into the metal, resem¬
bling that of an instrument Avith four blunt points on
which the coin was struck ; and Avas OAving to its hav¬
ing been fixed by such an-instrument on that side
to receive the impression upon the other. To this
succeeds the image of a dolphin, or some small animal,
in. oue of the departments of the rude mark, or in a
hollow square : and this again is succeeded by a more
perfect image, Avithout any mark of the holloAV square.
Some of the Greek coins are hollow in the reverse, as
those of Caulonia, Crotona, Metapontum, and some
other ancient cities of Magna Graecia. About 500
B. C. perfect inverses appear on the Greek coins, of
exquisite relief and Avork man ship'. “ The very mus¬
cles of'men and animals (says Mr Pinkerton), areseen,
and Avill bear inspection Avith the largest magnifier as
ancient gems. The ancients certainly had' not eyes
different from ours ; and it is c lear that they must have
magnified objects. A drop of water forms a micro¬
scope •, and it is probable this Avas the only one of the
ancients. To Greek artists we are indebted for the
beauty of the Roman imperial coins ; and these are
so highly finished, that on some reverses, as that of
Nero’s Recursion, the adventus and progressio of va¬
rious emperors, the fundator pacts of Severus, the fea¬
tures of the emperor, riding or walking, are as exact
as on the obverse. But though the best Greek ar¬
tists were called to Rome, yet the (wreck coins under
upon
A L S. j 5
the Roman emperors are sometimes Avell executed, Arrange-
and ahvays full ot variety and curiosity. No Roman ment, Stc.
or Etruscan coins have been found of the globular 1 '" V -1
form, or indented on the reverse like the early Greek.
The first Greek are small pieces of silver, Avhile the
Roman are large masses of copper. The former are
struck ; the latter cast in moulds. The reverses of the
Roman coins are very uniform, the proAV of a ship, a
car, or the like, till about the year 100 B. C. Avhen
various reverses appear on their consular coins in all
metals. The variety and beauty of the Roman impe¬
rial reverses are well knoAvn, The medallist much va¬
lues those Avhich have a number of figures •, as the
Ptiel/ce Faustiniance, of Faustina, a gold coin no larger
than a sixpence, which has 12 figures ; that of Trajan,
regna assigruita, has four j the congiarium of Nervafive;
the allocution of Trajan seven ; of Hadrian 10 ; of
Probas 12. Some Roman medals have small figures
on both sides, as the Apollini sancto of Julian II. Such
have not received any peculiar name among the medal¬
lists. Others have only a reverse, as the noted spintri*.
ati, which have numerals I. II. &c. on the ob¬
verse.”
The names of the deities represented on the rever-®^6
ses of Greek coins are never expressed ; perhaps, as Mr
Pinkerton supposes, out of piety, a symbolical repre-ancient
sentatiou of their attributes being all that they thought coins
proper to delineate ; but the Roman coins always ex¬
press the name, frequently with an adjunct, as Veneri
Victrici, &e. In others, the name of the emperor
or empress is added ; as Pudiciti^e Augusts, round
an image of modesty ; Virtus Augusti, a legend for
an image of virtue.
The principal symbols of the divine attributes to be
met with on the Greek medals are as ToIIoav :
1. Jupiter is known on the coins of Alexander the
Great by his eagle and thunderbolts ; hut Avhen the
figure occurs only on the obverses of coins, he is distin*
guished by a laurel croAvn, and placid bearded counter
nance. Jupiter Ammon is known by the ram’s horn
twisting round his ear ; a symbol of power and strength;
assumed by some of the successors of Alexander the
Great, particularly by Lysimachus.
2. Neptune is known by his trident, dolphin, or being
draAvn by sea horses ; but he is seldom met with on the
Grecian coins.
3. Apollo is distinguished by an harp, branch of
laurel, or tripod ; and sometimes by a bow and arroAvs-
In the character of the sun, his head is surrounded with
rays ; but when the bust only occurs, he has a fair young
face, and is croAvned with laurel. He is frequent on
the coins of the Syrian princes.
4. Mars is distinguished by his armour, and some¬
times by a trophy on his shoulders. His head is
armed with a helmet, and has a ferocious counte¬
nance. .
5. Mercury is represented as a youth, with a small
cap on his head, wings behind his ears and on his feet.
He is known by the cap, which resembles a small hat,
and the wings. He appears also with the caduceus;
or wand twined with serpents, and the marsupium, or
purse, which he holds in his hand.
6. iEsculapius is known by his bushy beard, and
his leaning on a club with a serpent twisted round ifc.
166
MED
Arrange* He sometimes occurs with Ins wife Hygeia or Health,
ment, &c. with their son Telespkorus or Convalescence between
them.
7. Bacchus is known by his crown of ivy or vine,
his diadem and horn, with a tyger and satyrs around
him.
8. The figure of Hercules is common on the coins of
Alexander the Great, and has frequently been mistaken
for that of the prince himself. He appears sometimes
as a youth and sometimes with a beard. He is known
by the club, lion’s skin, and remarkable apparent
strength $ sometimes he has a cnp in his hand; and a
poplar tree, as a symbol of vigour, is sometimes added
to the portrait.
9. The Egyptian Serapis is known by his bushy
beard, and a measure upon his head.
10. Apis is delineated in the form of a bull, with a
flower of the lotos, the water lily of the Nile, supposed
by Macrobius to be a symbol of creation j and Jambli-
chus tells us, that Osiris was thought to have his throne
in it.
11. Harpocrates, the god of Silence, appears with
his finger on his month 5 sometimes with the sistrum in
his left hand ; a symbol common to most of the Egyp¬
tian deities.
12. Canopus, another Egyptian deity, appears in the
shape of a human head placed on a kind of pitcher.
“ This deified pitcher (says Mr Pinkerton), seems to
refer to an anecdote of ancient superstition, which, I
believe, is recorded by Plutarch. It seems some Per¬
sian and Egyptian priests had a contest which of their
deities had the superiority. The Egyptian said, that
a single vase, sacred to Serapis, would extinguish the
whole power of the Persian deity of fire. The experi¬
ment wras tried} and the wily Egyptian, boring holes
in the vase and stopping them with wax, afterwards
filled the vase with water; which, gushing through the
holes as the wax melted, extinguished the Persian deity.
Hence the vase was deified.”
13. The Holy Senate and Hoh/ People, appear fre¬
quently on the Greek imperial coins, sometimes repre¬
sented as old men with beards, at others as youths.
The goddesses represented on medals are,
1. Juno, represented by a beautiful young woman,
sometimes with a diadem, sometimes without any
badge, which is reckoned a sufficient distinction, as the
other goddesses all wear badges. Sometimes she ap¬
pears as the goddess of marriage j and is then veiled to
the middle, and sometimes to the toes. She is known
by the peacock, a bird sacred to her from the fable of
Argus.
2. Minerva is very common on the coins of Alex¬
ander the Great} and her bust has been mistaken by
the celebrated painter Le Brun for the hero himself.
She is very easily distinguished by the helmet. Her
symbols are, her armour; the spear in her right hand
and the aegis, with a Medusa’s head, in her left j an
owl commonly standing by her.
3. Diana of Ephesus is commonly represented on the
Greek imperial coins ) and appears with a great num¬
ber of breasts, supposed to denote universal Nature.
She is supported by two deer, and carries a pannier of
fruit upon her head. The bust of this goddess is
known by the crescent on her brow, and sometimes by
the bow and quiver at her side.
A 'L S.
4. Venus is known by an apple, the prize of beauty, Arrange,
in her band. Sometimes she is distinguished only by meat, &c,
her total want of dress ; but is always to be known by ' r-
her extraordinary beauty, and is sometimes adorned
with pearls about the neck.
5. Cupid is sometimes met with on the Syrian coins,
and is known by his infancy and wings.
6. Cybele is known by a turreted crown and lion j
or is seen in a chariot drawn by lions.
7. Ceres is known by her garland of wheat, and is
common on the Sicilian coins •, that island being re¬
markable for its fertility. Sometimes she has two ser¬
pents by her, and is sometimes drawn in a chariot by
them. She carries in her hands the torches with
which she is fabled to have gone in search of her
daughter Proserpine.
8. Proserpine herself is sometimes met with on
coins, with the name of or the girl.
9. The Egyptian Isis has a bud or flower on her
head } a symbol of the perpetual bloom of tho inhabi¬
tants of heaven. She carries also a sistrum in her hand.
10. The Sidonian Astarte appears on a globe sup¬
ported on a chariot with two -wheels, and drawn by
two horses.
These are the deities most commonly represented on
the Greek coins. The more uncommon are, Saturn
with his scythe, or with a hook on the Heraclian
coins •, Vulcan with his tongs on the reverse of a coin
of Thyatira, represented at work in the presence of
Minerva. Adranus, a Sicilian god, is sometimes re¬
presented on coins with a dog. Anubis, an Egyp¬
tian deity, has a dog’s head. Atis is known by his
Phrygian bonnet} Castor and Pollux by a star on the
head of each *, Dis, by his old face, dishevelled hair
and beard, and a hook: I lora by her crown of flow¬
ers j Nemesis by her wheel} and Pan by his horns
and ears belonging to some kind of beast. n?
There are likewise to be found on medals many Table ol
different symbols by themselves} of the most remark- symbols,
able of which we shall give the following table, with
Aheir signification :
Symbols.
1. Vases with sprigs,
2. Small chest or hamper, with a
serpent leaping out,
3. Anchor on Seleucian medals,
4. Apollo on Syrian coins, on an
inverted hamper,
5. Bee,
6. Laurel, - - -
7. Reed, _ - .
8. Ivy and grapes,
9. Poppy,
10. Corn,
11. Owl and olive,
12. Dove, * »
Significations.
Solemn games.
\ Mystic rites of
\ Bacchus.
If Coin struck
| at Antioch,
where an an¬
chor was dug
up.
^ Covered tripod.
C Aristeus the
-] son of Apol-
L io.
Apollo.
A river.
Bacchus.
C Ceres and Pro-
serpine.
Ceres.
Minerva.
Venus.
13'
k • Ait se¬
tt n*i &c.
Syrnhoh,
13. Torch,
14. Mudnis, or conic stone,
M E D
Significations.
{
Diana, Ceres,
or Proser¬
pine.
{The sun, Belus,
or Venus.
Symbols of Countries, &c.
Pomegranate flowers,
Owl,
Pegasus,
Wolf’s head,
Bull’s head, - -
Minotaur’s head and labyrinth,
Horse’s head,
Lion, -
Tortoise, -
Sphinx,
J5'
16.
i?'
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23-
24' -
25. Three legs joined as in the Isle 1 gjc-jy
Rhodes.
Athens.
Corinth.
Argos.
Boeotia.
Crete.
Pharsalia.
Marseilles.
Peloponnesus.
Scio.
26.
27.
28.
of Man money,
Horse,
The crescent,
Bull,
29. Ensign, with the letters Col.
a°-
31-
32.
33'
Bull,
Caduceus,
Cornucopige,
Pontifical hat,
34. Parazoninm,
35-
36.
37-
38.
39-
40.
41-
42.
43-
44.
45<
Globe
stars,
on an altar with
de
{
Fort and gate,
Tribuli, a kind of chevaux
frize, -
Altar or tripod,
Dolphin, - - -
Lectisternia,
Lituus, or twisted wand,
Apex, or cap with strings,
Thensa, or chariot employed to ^ Consecration oi
carry images, - - an empress.
Peacock, - - - Ditto.
Consecration of
Unknown.
Piety.
Apollo.
Festivals.
Augurship.
Pontificate.
Eagle
an emperor.
A L S.
167
Thessaly.
Byzantium (a)
f Supposed to be
a river.
T A colony drawn
4 from one le-
L gion-
Apis, strength
or security.
C Peace, and con-
(_ cord.
Abundance.
Priesthood.
C Batoon of com-
mand.
pThe world pre-
} served by the
three gods for the
- j three sons of
^ Constant. I.
Security.
The legends put upon medals are designed as ex- Arrange-
planations of them ; but as the compass of even the nieut, &c.
largest coins does not admit of any great length of''"^v~‘'
inscription, it has always been found necessary to use ot-
abbreviations j and in readily decypheriug these lies a medals,
considerable part of the difficulty of the science. This,
however, is greater in the Roman than in the Greek
medals j for the Greeks commonly insert as much of
the word as is sufficient to enable us easily to under¬
stand its meaning j but it is common for those who at¬
tempt to explain letters that do not often occur, to rzi
fall into very ridiculous errors. Of this Mr Pinker-Extraordi-
ton gives a most remarkable instance in Fortunius Li-nary nus-
cetus, a learned man, who finding upon a coin of °fE01-
Adrian the letters, r. IA signifying the 14th year of that lus
emperor’s reign, imagined that they signified Lucer-
nas invenit Delta ; “ Delta invented lanthorns j” and
thence ascribed the origin of lanthorns to the Egyp¬
tians. Tables explaining the meaning of the abbrevi¬
ations found upon medals have been published by Pu¬
tin, Ursatus, and others.
Sect. XI. Of Medallions, Medalets, &c.
Besides the ordinary coins of the ancients, which
passed in common circulation through the country,
there were others of a larger size, which are now term¬
ed medallions. These were struck on the commence*-
ment of the reign of a new emperor and other solemn
occasions : frequently also, by the Greeks in particular,
as monuments of gratitude or of flattery. Sometimes
they were mere trial or pattern pieces j and those
abound after the time of Maximian, with the words
Tres Monet a; on the reverse. The common opinion
is, that all the Roman pieces of gold exceeding the
denarius aureus, all in silver exceeding the denarius,
and all in brass exceeding the sestertius, went under
the denomination of medallions: but Mr Pinkerton
thinks that many of these large pieces went in circula¬
tion, though not very commonly, as our five and two
guinea pieces, silver crowns, &c. do in this country.
The finest medallions were presented by the mint-mas¬
ters to the emperor, and by the emperor to his friends,
as specimens of fine workmanship. The best we have
at present are of brass, and many of them composed,
of two sorts of metal j the centre being copper, with
a ring of brass around it, or the contrary and the
inscription is sometimes confined to one of the metals,
sometimes not. There is a remarkable difference be¬
tween the Greek and Roman medallions in point oi
thickness; the latter being frequently three or four
lines thick, while the other seldom ^exceed one. Very
few medallions, however, were struck by the Greeks
before the time of the Roman emperors ; but the Greek
medallions of the emperors are more numerous than
those
(a) This appears on the early coins of Byzantium, with the legend BYZANTIN. ^ P^^stor^if
zantium.” The reason of this was, that when Philip of Macedon besieged the ci y, an 1 inhabitants had time
a cloudy night, the moon shone out on a sudden and discovered him ; by wine 1 means places ;
to collect their forces and rcpnlse him. The Turks on entering Constant,noplc, f»““dcresceni
and suspecting some magical power in it, assumed the symbol, and its power, to cm- ,
is now the chief Turkish ensign. 3
i'68.
M E D A L S.
• 122
Of iucda-
Jets.
^lodal- tliose of the Romans themselves. And all these pieces,
lions, &cc. however, are of such high price that few private per-
sons are able to purchase them. In tlie last century
Christina queen of Sweden procured about 300. In
the king of France’s collection there are 1200 ; a num¬
ber formerly supposed not to exist j and Dr Hunter’s
collection contains about 400, exclusive of the Kgyp-
tian.
Besides these large pieces, there are smaller ones, of
a size somewhat larger than our half-crowns j and by
Italian medallists are called tnedaglion cini, or small
medallions. They are still scarcer than the large
kind.
There is still a third kind, which have almost esca¬
ped the notice of medallists, viz. the small coins or
missilia scattered among the people on solemn occa¬
sions ; such as those struck for the slaves on account
of the saturnalia ; counters for gaming \ tickets for
baths and feasts; tokens in copper and in lead, &c.
These are distinguished by Mr Pinkerton by the name
of mcdalets. Many, or perhaps almost all, of those
struck for the saturnalia were satirical j as the slaves
had then a license to ridicule not only their masters
but any person whatever. Mr Pinkerton mentions
one of the most common pieces of this kind, which
has on the obverse the head of an old woman veiled,
with a laurel crow n; the reverse only s. c. within a
wreath. Baudelot is of opinion that it is the head of
Acca Laurentia, the nurse of Romulus, to whom a
festival was ordained. “ Perhaps (says Mr Pinkerton),
it was struck in ridicule of Julius Caesar; for the man¬
ner of the laurel crown, and its high appearance over
the head, perfectly resemble that of Julius on his coins.”
Some have a ship upon one side } on the reverse T,
or a cross, which was the image of Priapus ; and oc¬
casioned many false invectives against the first Chris¬
tians, who paid such respect to the cross. Some pieces
have the heads of the emperors upon one side, on
the reverse only numerals, III. IV. V. &e., and the
noted spiritriati of Tacitus. Roth these kinds appear
tickets for the baths, as the number seems to denote the
particular bath. Some have the head of a girl with
a vessel used at the baths in her hand. The spintriati
are so immodest, that few will bear mention. But
some are merely ludicrous ; as one which has an ass
with a bell about his neck, and a soldier riding him j
another w ith two figures hoisting a woman in a basket
into the air. Of those that will just bear mention, is
a man with titles around him, as chief of the games j
and a woman in ridicule of the modest bath-girl above
mentioned. There is also one marked xix, on which
appears an imperator triumphing in a ear: this car is
placed on the back of a camel 5 and behind the impe¬
rator is a monkey mimicking him.
Of the con- A fourth class of medals are called contorniati from
torniati. the Italian contorniato, “ encircled 5” because of the
hollow circle which commonly runs around them.
They are distinguished from medallions by their thin¬
ness, faint relief, reverses sometimes in relief, some¬
times hollow; and in general by the inferiority in
their workmanship. The opinions of medallists con¬
cerning these pieces are very various j some suppose
them to have been struck by Gallienus to the memory
of illustrious men and celebrated athlctce at the time
123
that he caused all the consecration coins of his pre-
decessors to be restored ; others ascribe their invention lions,
to Greece, &c. but Mr Pinkerton is of opinion that
they were only tickets for places at public games.
Many of them, notwithstanding their inferior work¬
manship, are very valuable on account of their pre¬
serving the portraits of some illustrious authors of an¬
tiquity, nowhere else to be found. Much depend-
ance, however, cannot be put on the portraits of
Greek authors and eminent men found upon some of
them } for though we know that the busts of Sallust,
Horace, &c. must have been struck when their per¬
sons were fresh in the memory of the artists, yet it
was otherwise with Homer, Solon, Pythagoras, &c.
which are to be found on some of them. Even these,
however, are valuable, as being ancient and perhaps
traditional portraits of these great men. The last
whose portraits are supposed to have been delineated
in this wray, are Apollonius Tyaneus who flourished
in the time of Domitian, and Apuleius in that of
Marcus Antoninus. Mr Pinkerton thinks it a con-
fix-mation of his opinion concerning these medals, that
the reverses always contain some device alluding to
public games, as that of a charioteer driving a cha¬
riot, &c.
Sect. XII. Directions for making Cabinets.
We must now proceed to the last part of our sub¬
ject, viz. that of giving directions for the formation
of cabinets. As we have already seen that the forma¬
tion of any one must be attended with very consider¬
able expence, it is necessary for every one who at¬
tempts this to proportion the cabinet to his own cir¬
cumstances. There are, properly speaking, three kinds
of cabinets. 1. Those meant to contain a coin of
every sort that has been issued from the mint in every
age and country 5 hut this, which may be called the
large and complete cabinet, is not to be purchased by
private persons. That of Dr Hunter already men¬
tioned is perhaps one of the best private cabinets ever
known 5 and cost 23,000!. but as many duplicates
were sold as cost 2000I. by which means the expence
was reduced to 2l,oocl. The vast collection made by
the king of France cost upwards of ioo,oool. 2. The
smaller cabinet may be supposed to consist only of
middle and small Roman brass, English pennies, groats,
&c. with a few medals of the more valuable kind, and
may be supposed to incur an expence of from 200I. to,
loool. 3. Jhe smallest kind is called a casket of me¬
dals, and does not consist of above 1000 at most of va¬
rious kinds 5 and consequently the expence must depend
on the pleasure of the proprietor.
In the formation of the grand cabinet, it must be
observed that the Greek medals o{ every denomina¬
tion do not admit of any arrangement by the metals
like the Roman 5 not any regular series of this kind
being met with even in the most opulent cabinets.
Hence in all collections the civic coins are ranged ac¬
cording to an alphabetical order $ and the monarchic
in a chronological one. The same rule is to he ob¬
served in the Roman consular medals j they are ranged,
like the coins oi the Greek cities, in an alphabetical
series of the families. The Roman imperial coins are
only
M E D
ns only those capable of beiiig arranged according to sizes
j(r and metals. Even from this must be excepted the
s. minimi, or very smallest coins ; which are so scarce,
-J that the only regular series of them in the world is that
belonging to the king of Spain, which was formed by
a most skilful French medallist, and consists of all the
metals. The arrangement of a grand cabinet, according
to Mr Pinkerton, is as follows.
“ I. The coins of cities and of free states in alpha¬
betical order : whether using Greek, Roman, Punic,
Etruscan, or Spanish characters.
“ II. Kings in chronological series, both as to foun¬
dation of empire and seniority of reign.
“ III. Heroes, heroines, founders of empires, and
cities.
IV. Other illustrious persons.
“ V. Roman ases.
“ VI. Coins of families, commonly called consular.
“ VII. Imperial medallions.
“ VIII. Imperial gold.
“ IX. Imperial minimi of al! metals.
“ X. Imperial silver.
“ XI. Imperial first brass.
“ XII. Second brass.
“ XIII. Third brass.
“ XIV. Colonial coins which are all of brass.
“ XV. Greek cities under the emperors, of all me¬
tals and sizes. In a smaller cabinet they may be put
with the Roman, according to their metal and size.
Those without the emperor’s head go to Class I. though
struck in Roman times.
“ XVI. Egyptian coins struck under the Roman
emperors, of all metals and sizes. They are mostly of
a base metal called by the French patin ; it is a kind
of pot-metal or brittle brass.
“ X\ II. Contorniati, or ticket medals.
“ XVIII. Coins of Gothic princes, &c. inscribed
with Roman characters.
“ XIX. Coins of southern nations using uncommon
alphabets} as the Persian, Punic, Etruscan, and Spa¬
nish.
“ XX. Coins of northern nations using uncommon
characters } as the Runic and German.
“ la the modern part no series can he formed of
copper that will go hack above two centuries ; but se¬
quences (chronological series) of gold and silver may
he arranged of all the different empires, kingdoms, and
states, as far as their several coinages will allow. Those
of England and France will be the most perfect. Mo¬
dem silver is commonly arranged in three sequences;
the dollar, the groat, and the penny sizes. The me¬
dals of each modern country ought of course to be
separated 5 though it is best to arrange each set in
chronological order, let their size of metal be w hat they
will. It may be remarked here, that our modern me¬
dals of the size of a tea-saucer, are only so many mo¬
numents of barbarism. The ancient medallions are al¬
most universally but little larger than our crown-piece,
though three or four of them may extend to about two
inches diameter, but very many modern medals to four
inches and more. A large medal always declares an
ignorant prince or an ignorant artist. Into the size of
a crown-piece the ancients threw more miracles in this
way than will ever appear in these monstrous produc¬
tions.”
Vog. XIII. Part I.
A L S. 169
I hese directions will likewise apply to the forma- Ancient
tion ot a cabinet of the second kind : but if the col- Coins,
lector means to iorm a series of large Roman brass, he
will find the coins of four or live emperors so scarce
as not to be attainable in that series, even at any
price. lie must therefore supply their places with
middle brass, as is allowed with regard to Otho, even
in the best cabinets ; there not being above three coins
of that emperor in large brass known in the world :
whereas of the middle brass, two or three hundred
may exist. For this reason Mr Pinkerton concludes,
that in cabinets of the second class, the collector may
mingle the large and second brass together as he
thinks proper, in order to save expencej though it
would not do so well to unite such disproportionate
sizes as the large and small. “ In the small sequence,
however (says he), there can be no harm in his mix¬
ing gold, silver, and brass, as chance or curiosity may
lead him to purchase any of these metals. And though
your starched bigotted medallist may sneer because such
a sequence would controvert his formal and narrow' way
of thinking, common sense will authorize us to laugh
at the pedant in our turn, and to pronounce such a
series more various, rich, and interesting, than if the
collector had arranged only one metal, and rejected a
curious article because he did not collect gold or silver.
In like manner, if, in the modern part of the smaller
cabinet, any coin of a series is of high price, or of
bad impression, there can be no impropriety in putting
another of the same reign, which is cheaper, or bet¬
ter executed, though of a different denomination or of
a little larger size. In short, the collector has no
rules but in the Greek cities and Roman families, to
observe alphabetical order and chronology in every
thing else.”
Tables of Ancient Coins.
The most ancient coins, according to Froelich, are
distinguished by the followung marks, which he ac¬
counts infallible. 1. Their oval circumference, and
globulous swelling shape. 2. Antiquity of alphabet.
3. The characters being retrograde, or the first divi¬
sions of the legend in the common style, while the next
is retrograde. 4. The indented square already describ¬
ed. 5. The simple structure of the mintage. 6. Some
of the very old coins are hollowed on the reverse, with
the image impressed on the front. 7. The dress, sym¬
bols, &c. frequently of the rudest design and exe¬
cution.
Table I. Ancient Greek Coins.
1. Those without impression.
2. With one or more hollow indented -marks on one
side, and an impression in relief on the other.—Ot Chal-
cedon on the Hellespont, Lesbos, Abdera in I brace,
Acanthus in Macedon, those said to belong to Egium
in Achaia. This class continues from about 900 to
700 B. C. »
3. With an indented square divided into segments,*
having a small figure in one of them; the rest blank,
with a figure in relief on the obverse.— Of Syracuse
and other places adjacent.—Continue from 700 to 600
B. C. -
Y 4* Coins
f
170
Ancient
Coins.
MEDALS.
4. Coins hollow on the reverse, with figures in relief
on the obverse.—Of Caulonia, Crotona, Metapontum,
&c. Supposed by some to be a local coinage of Mag¬
na Crtecia 5 but probably of equal antiquity with the
former.
5. Coins in which a square die is used on one or both
sides.—Of Athens, Cyrene, Argos, &c.—Of Alexan¬
der I. and Archelaus I. of Macedon. Disused in the
cellent workmanship, especially in the time of Antoni-
n us Pius. loins.
Table II. Roman Coins.
I. The consular coins, called also the coins of families,
and arranged alphabetically in cabinets, according to
the names of the families which appear on them. They
reign of the latter about 420 B. C.
6. Complete coins, both in obverse and reverse, oc¬
cur first in Sicily in the time of Gelo, about 491
B. C.
7. Coins of Alexander the Great and his successors.
About the time of this hero the Greek coins began to
attain to perfection, and were struck of uncommon
beauty. It is remarkable, that on the coins of this
monarch his own image seldom occurs. The only
one yet found of Alexander with his portrait upon it,
and struck during his reign, is a silver liemidrachm
in Dr Hunter’s cabinet, which is represented Plate
CCCXXXI. N° 3. After his death many coins bear
his portrait. Trebellius Pollio informs us, that some
coins, particularly those of Alexander, used to be worn
as amulets ; and many medals are met with in cabinets,
bored seemingly with that intention.
8. Coins of the Successors of Alexander.—Those of
the Syrian monarchs almost equal the coins of Alex¬
ander himself in beauty. Those ol Antiochus VI. are
supposed to be the most perfect patterns of male beauty
to be met with any where. The Egyptian Ptolemies
are somewhat inferior.
9. The coins of the Arsacidae of Parthia done by
Greek workmen.
10. The Greek imperial coins, being such as have
the head of the emperor or empress: such as have not
these impressions being classed with the civic coins,
though struck under the Roman power. None of the
imperial coins occur in gold. Of silver there are those
of Antioch, Tyre, Sidon, Tarsus, Berytus, Caesarea,
Egyptian silver coins of base metal, Syrian silver coins,
which sometimes bear on the reverse the club of Her¬
cules, or the Tyrian shell-fish. Those of Sidon bear
the image of the goddess Astarte, or her chariot.
Those of Caesarea in Cappadocia of better work than
the Syrian. Lycian coins of good workmanship: on
the reverse two harps and an owl sitting upon them.
Silver coins of Gelon in Sarmatia resembling the Sy¬
rian. The situation of this town is very much un¬
known. It seems to have been situated on the north
of the Euxine sea, where some Sarmatic or Sclavonic
tribes were mingled with the Scythians or Goths.
The Greek imperial brass coins are very numerous.
A series of almost all the emperors may be had from
those of Antioch, with a Latin legend on the obverse
and Greek on the reverse. Those of Bithynia and
Phrygia remarkable for good workmanship. The coins
of Tarsus remarkable for their curious views of ob¬
jects, almost in perspective. The Egyptian coins,
from the time of Augustus to Nero,. are worse exe¬
cuted than afterwards. From Nero to Commodus
they are frequently of admirable workmanship, and in
a peculiar style, distinct both from the Greek and Ro¬
man. From the time of Commodus they decline, and
are lost after the reign of Constantins I. The Egyp¬
tian brass coins of the Roman period are likewise of ex-„
are,
1. Brass Coins.—-These consist chiefly of large pieces
of rude workmanship without any interesting imagery.
In cabinets they are generally kept in boxes apart by
themselves. The as bears the head of Janus ; the se¬
mis of Jupiter with S •, the triens of Minerva with four
cyphers j the quadrans of Hercules with three cyphers ;
the sextans of Mercury with two cyphers; and the
uncia bears the head of Rome with one cypher. In all
these pieces the prow of a ship is constantly tbe figure
on the reverse, with very few exceptions. Sometimes
indeed they have a shell, two heads of barley, a frog,
an anchor or a dog, on the reverse. About the time of
Julius Caesar both the obverses and the reverses of the
coins began to be altered.
2. Silver.—Of this the denarius wras the first and
principal coin. It was stamped originally with X,
denoting that the value was ten ases. On the reverse
was Castor and Pollux, or a chariot of Victory. Af¬
terwards the busts of various deities make their appear¬
ance ; and in the seventh century of Rome the por¬
traits of illustrious persons deceased are met with : but
till the time of Julius Caesar no figure of any living
person is to be met with ; Julius himself being the first
who assumed that honour. The workmanship on the
best and worst silver is much the same. The reverses
are very curious, and point out many remarkable events
in Roman history ; but none of these occur till about a
century before the Christian era. The large denarii,
with Roma, are the most ancient; and some of these
bear the Pelasgic A, not the Roman. The silver ses¬
tertii have a head of Mercury, with a caduceus on the
reverse. The quinarii have always a head of Jupiter,
with a Victory on the reverse.
3. Gold.—Most of these are of great value. The
number of these exceeds not 100 j those of brass 200;
and of silver 2000. The aureus is the general gold
coin} but two or three gold semisses of families like¬
wise occur.
II. Roman imperial coins.
1. Bt This is of three sizes4 large, middle,,
and small. The first forms a most beautiful series,
but very expensive. The various colours of the pati¬
na have the finest effect. It is the most important of
all the Roman coins, and exceeds even the gold m
value.
The middle brass is next in value to the former j
and in it are many rare and curious coins, particular¬
ly interesting to Britons, as elucidating the history of
the island. Of these are the triumphal arch of Clau¬
dius •, the Exerc. Britannicus of Adrian j the
coins of Antoninus Pius, Commodus, Severus, with
a Victory, Victoria Britan. : but especially those
personifying the country Britannia. “ The num¬
ber of Roman coins relating to Britain (says Mr Pin¬
kerton) is remarkable, more than 20 having been struck
at various times : while those personifying Italy, Gaul,
A L S. 171
an unknown person named Nigrianus. The com seems Ancient
to have been struck at Carthage j and our author con- Coins,
eludes that he was an African usurper, father to Nigri- y_ " "
nianus.
2. Srivei'.—This series is very complete, and the
cheapest of any ; especially as the small brass becomes
a fine supplement to it: the latter being had in plenty
when the silver becomes scarce, and the silver being
plentiful when the brass is scarce.
3. Gold.—The Roman imperial gold coins form a
series of great beauty and perfection j but on account
of their great price, are beyond the purchase of private
persons.
4. The colonial coins occur only in brass ; none, ex¬
cepting that of Nemausus, having a right to coin silver.
They begin in Spain with Julius Cmsar and Antony,
and cease with Caligula, who took away the privilege
of coinage from the Spanish colonies. The most beau¬
tiful are those of Corinth. The other remarkable colo'
nial coins are those of Emerita, Uice, Terraco, Cassan-
dria, Babba, Berytus, Caesarea, Patroe, Emisa, Helio¬
polis or Balbec,Ptolemais, Sidon, Tyre, Deulton,Dium,
Troas, Rhesaina, Neapolis of Samaria, which bears a re¬
presentation of Mount Gerizzim with the temple on it.
Hippo in Africa, &c. On many of these coins we meet
with fine representations of temples, triumphal arches,
gods, goddesses, and illustrious persons. But coins with
those x’epresentations ai*e by no means common j the
colonial coins till the time of Trajan bearing only a
plough, or some other simple badge of a colony. Ca*
melodunum is the only colony in Britain of which wre
have any coins.
5. The minimi.—This includes the smallest coins of
all denominations, most of which do not exceed the
size of a silver penny. They are the most curious of
all ; but no series of them was ever formed by any per¬
son except the abbe Rothelin, whose collection, form¬
ed of all metals, passed to the queen of Spain. The
reason of the scarcity of these small coins is probably
their diminutive size ; by reason of which they are
mostly lost.
It is surprising that numbers of Roman coins are
found through all countries once subject to that power¬
ful people. Some have been met with in the Orkneys,
and many in the most remote parts of Europe, Asia,
and Africa, known to the ancients.
M E D
Spain, and other regions of the empire, exceed not four
or six at most for each country.” Only one country
vies with Britain, and that is Dacia on the extreme
north-east of the empire, as Britain on the extreme
north-west. No doubt this circumstance of remote¬
ness in these two countries recommended them to this
particular attention, as more expressive of the Roman
power.
The small brass series abounds also with curious
coins. They are scarce till the time of Valerian and
Gallienus, but very common afterwards. Mr Pinker¬
ton recommends, therefore, to form a series in silver
as well as brass 5 both being the cheapest of all the
Roman coins. “ In this series (says he), it is a Com¬
mon fault to arrange many coins which have been plat¬
ed with gold or silvei', the forgeries of ancient times,
but which time has worn off either wholly or in part.”
All real brass coins have the s. c. till the time of Gal¬
lienus ; as the senate alone had the power of striking-
brass, while the emperor himself had that of gold and
silver. When the s. c. therefore, is wanting, the
coin was certainly once plated •, as, in general, the
different type and fabric, being those of gold and
silver, sufficiently show themselves. With Pertinax,
A. D. 192, there is a temporary cessation of small
brass; nor after him do any princes occur in that series
till Valerian, A. D. 254, excepting Trajanus Decius,
A. D. 250 only. After Valerian the series is cbnti-
nuous and common. The brass coinage gradually de¬
clined in size from the time of Severus *, so that parts
of the as could not be struck, or at least it was held
unnecessary to strike them. Trajanus Decius attempt¬
ed in vain to restore the coinage j and Valerian and
Gallienus were forced to issue denarii aerei and small
assaria. The series of large and of middle brass are of
two fixed and known sizes; the former about that of
our crown, the latter ol the half crown : though after
Severus they gradually lessen. But the small brass
takes in all parts of the as j and every brass coin not
larger than our shilling belongs to this series. The
minimi, indeed, or very smallest, it is proper to keep
apart. The coins of Julius Caesar in this size are of
peculiarly fine workmanship. They bear his portrait
reverse of Augustus, or the reverse has a crocodile
Egypto Capta. There are several with Mark An¬
tony, and some with Cleopatra •, but the more common
pieces are those with only numerals on the obverse,
which go the length of XHL •, probably tickets for the
baths. A great many occur in the time of Nero 5 of
which Mr Pinkerton particularizes one which has “ on
the reverse a table ornamented with griffins and other
devices. Upon it is placed a wreath of laurel and a
beautiful vase, of which the embossed human figures
are so minute, and finished so surprisingly, as to stamp
these coins the most exquisite productions of the an¬
cient mint.” From the time of Nero to that of Ve¬
spasian no small brass occurs: but there are many of
this emperor, and of his son Titus j while Domitian
has as many as Nero, and Domitia his wife has- al¬
most as many. Succeeding emperors to the time of
Pertinax have also many brass coins; but from his
time to that of Valerian there are no real small brass
excepting those of Trajanus Decius. After Gallienus
diere are a great many coins of this kind j and Mr
Pinkerton mentions • one in Dr Hunter’s cabinet, of
Table III. Coins of other Ancient Nations.
1. The Lydians appear to have invented coinage;
though, perhaps, this honour may be disputed witk
them by the Greeks.
2. The Assyrians, Medes, Babylonians, Phoenicians,
and Egyptians, had no coins. In the mouths of the
mummies, are only thin, unstamped, and round pieces
of gold, to pay Charon’s fare.
3. No Indian or Chinese coins are to be met with
till a very late period ; and even then so rude as scarce
to be worth notice. Voltaire mentions a collection of
ancient Chinese and Indian coins made by the emperor
of China in 1^00 j but Mr Pinkerton supposes it to
have consisted only of the Greek and Roman money
which had been introduced into these countries.
4. The Lydian coins have no legends j so that mere
conjecture only determines the ancient coins of electrum
Y 2 and
!72
£ E> A L S.
Ancient
Coins.
and silver found in Asia, and different from the Per¬
sian, to belong to Lydia. Croesus coined gold into a
form which he called staters ; and Mr Pinkerton men¬
tions a very ancient gold coin in Dr Hunter’s cabinet,
‘which he supposes to have been one of these. It has a
sriobous figure, with indented marks on one side, and on
the other a man kneeling, with a fish held out in the
left hand, and a sword depending in the right. It
weighs four drachms ; which Josephus tells us was the
weight of the Lydian gold coins. In the same collec¬
tion are other gold coins little inferior in antiquity } the
most ancient of which, our author supposes, may have
been coined by the cities of Asia Minor, as coinage
passed through them to Greece. They are of admirable
workmanship, and as much superior to the best Sicilian
coins, as the latter are to all the rest in the world. These
gold coins are all extremely pale 5 owing to the wrant of
knowledge in refining gold.
jj. Persian coins.—These were first struck by Darius
Hystaspes, whence they had the name of claries.
They are of gold, and generally have the figure of an
archer : they weigh about four drachms ; and some
occur with the indented mark on one side, while
others have figures upon both. The silver coins have
generally a king in a chariot of two horses, with a
charioteer, and sometimes another figure on foot be¬
hind, on the obverse : while the reverse presents a ship,
sometimes a ram, bull, or other animal. The gold
coins, which only had the title of darks, are extreme¬
ly scarce, having been melted down, as is supposed,
and recoined by Alexander, the Great on his conquest
of Asia.
There is a second series of Persian coins beginning
with Artaxares, or Artaxerxes, who overthrew the
Parthian monarchy about the year 210. These are
large and thin, with the king’s bust on one side, and
the altar of Mithras on the other j generally with a hu¬
man figure on each side. These coins continue till the
year 636, when Persia was conquered by the Saracens.
These have only Persian letters upon them, which, have
never been explained by any antiquaries. Mr Pinker¬
ton says that they seem to partake of the ancient Greek,
Gothic, and Alanic.
6. The Hebrew shekels, originally didrachms, but
after the times of the Maccabees tetradrachms, are al¬
most all forgeries of modern Jews, as well as the brass
coins with Samaritan characters upon them. They have
all a sprig upon one side and a vase on the other. Mr
Pinkerton says', that the admission of one of them into
a cabinet would almost be a disgrace to it.
7. Phoenician and Punic coins are very interesting
on account of the great power and wealth of these na¬
tions. The alphabets have been cleared by their rela¬
tion to the Hebrew and Syriac languages.
8. The coins of Palmyra come under the same de¬
nomination with the former, Palmyra being a Syrian
city.
9. The Etruscan coins have the characters of that
nation, which have been explained by their affinity to
the Pelasgic, or oldest Greek and Latin.
10. The Spanish coins are inscribed with two or
three alphabets allied to the old Greek or Punic $ but
the inscriptions have not been sufficiently explained.
11. Gaulish coins.— These are numerous, hut the
most ancient have no legends \ and even after the
I
Greek letters were introduced into Gaul by a colony
at Marseilles, the legends are very difficult to be ex¬
plained.
12. British coins.—From a passage in Caesar’s Com¬
mentaries, it has been inferred that the Britons used
some kind of coins even in his time. Mr Pinkerton in¬
forms us, that some rude coins of copper very much,
mingled with tin are frequently found in England j
which, he supposes, may be some of the ancient Bri¬
tish money. They are of the size of a didrachm, the
common form of the nummus aureus among the an-
cients. After the time of Caesar, coinage increased
among the Britons ; and there are many found of Cu-
nobelinus mentioned in the Roman history. Most of
these have on one side CUNO, with an ear of wheat, a
horse, a kind of head of Janus, or other symbol; and
have frequently also the letters camu ; supposed to
mean Camelodunum. Sometimes the word Tascia
occurs } the meaning of which has not yet been ex¬
plained.
13. Gothic coins of France, Italy, and Spain, to the
time of Charles the Great. These have the Roman
characters upon them. The Italian coins are mostly
of the size of small brass ; and in this way we meet
with coins of Athalaric, Theodahat, Witigez, and other
Gothic princes. Many others occur, the inscriptions of
which, though meant for Roman, are so perverted as to
he illegible.
Kdlei
Table IV. Modern Coins.
1. Of Japan.—These are thin plates of gold and sil¬
ver, of an oval figure, with small marks or figures stamp¬
ed on them.
2. China.—These are only copper, about the size'
of a farthing, with a square hole in the middle to put
them on strings. The inscriptions on them do not ex¬
press the name of the sovereign, but the year of his
reign ; as the happij year, the illustrious year, &c.
3. The Tartarian coins are rude, having only inscrip¬
tions upon them; and they are all posterior to the time
of Jenghiz khan.
4. Coins of Thibet, Pegu, and Siam, are much the
same, presenting only inscriptions without any figures.
They are also ot late date. _ ,
India.—Some old coins have been found in the
neighbourhood ol Calcutta, of gold, silver, copper, and
tin," all mixed together. These have commonly a war¬
rior with a sword on one side, and an Indian female idol
on the other, of the same form with the celebrated
sculptures in the island of Elephanta •, hut it is impos¬
sible to tell what antiquity they are of. The modern
coins are the pagoda ol gold, worth little more than
six shillings j the roupee of silver upwards ol two shil¬
lings ; and the cash, of copper. There is a remarkable
set of roupees, which show the twelve signs j a lion on
one, a hull on another, &c. but the occasion on
which they were struck is unknown. Die other
coins of India have generally Persian inscriptions upon
them.
6. Persia.—The Persic coins since its conquest by
the Arabs continue on the Arabian model.
"y. Arabia.—Some coins ol the petty princes ol.
Arabia are met with as old as the imperial ages ol
Rome j hut till the time of Hamm Alrashid, no re¬
gular
gular coinage appears in the vast empire of the Sara-
rn cens> Even then the reverse has only an inscription,
I—* and the obverse is copied from any Greek or Syrian
coin which happened to fall in the moneyer’s way.
The later Arabian coins are mostly silver, with the
name and titles of the prince on one side, and some
inscription from the Koran on the other. The more
modern coins of this country are in the shape of a fish¬
hook, with Arabic inscriptions.
8. Turkey.—No regular coinage was formed by
the Turks till they became masters of Constantinople.
They resemble those of Persia and Arabia, having
merely inscriptions on both sides.
9. The coins of the African states, at least such as
profess the Mohammedan religion, have merely inscrip¬
tions without any figures •, those of the internal parts
are unknown *, and no coinage was used among the
Mexicans and Peruvians, the only civilized nations in
America j but La Hontan mentions an American sa¬
vage who had a square medal of copper depending from
his neck. Mr Pinkerton supposes it to have come from
Japan.
10. Modern Italic coins. Besides the Gothic prin¬
ces mentioned in the former table, the exarchs of Ra¬
venna coined money with the inscription Felix Ra¬
venna, &c. The Lombards issued no coins, but there
are some still extant of Charlemagne. The followr-
ing list shows the origin of the coinage in various Ita¬
lian states.
Rome.—Papal coinage originates with Hadrian I.
Size of silver pennies, with the Pope’s name on
one side, and Scos Petrus on the other. No coins
appear from 975 to 1099, excepting of Leo IX. In
1303 appear pennies of the senate and people of Rome,
with Peter on the one side and Paul on the other.
There are groats of Clement V. with his portrait
three quarters length j but the side-head begins with
Sixtus V. in 1470. Gold was first coined by John
XXII. in 1316. The coins of Alexander VI.
Julius II. and Leo X. are remarkable for beauty and
elegance.
Milan. Coinage began with Charlemagne. The
first coin of the family of Visconti occurs in I33°> un~
der Azo. The set finishes with Louis XII.
Naples. Coinage begins in 840 and 880, with
Duke Sergius and Bishop Athanasius. I he next
coins are of Roger of Sicily, and Roger II. in II3°>
William I. II. and Tailored. Naples and Sicily were
subdued in 1194 by the emperor of Germany 5 in
1255 Manfred appears ; in 1266 Charles of Provence j
and others till Joan in 1414: after which follow the
house of Arragon, and later kings.
Venice begins in the 10th century. The first coins
are silver pennies marked Veneci. Ihen follow the
coins of Henrico Dandulo in 1192, ofZiani in 1205,
&c. Gold was first coined at Venice in 1280, and
copper in 1471 j but the silver groats are as old as
1192.
Florence. Silver was coined here in the 12th cen¬
tury, or before-, but in 1252 the first gold coins
struck in Europe after die 8th century made their ap¬
pearance, and were named florins from the flower of
the lily upon them. They were imitated by the
popes, by France, and England. They have on one
side St John the Baptist standing, on the other a large
Jlcitr de lis, and it is not doubted that the French Jlcurs
de lis took their origin from these coins. They weigh
a drachm, and are no less than 24 carats fine, accord¬
ing to Italian writers, and are worth about 12 shil¬
lings.
Geneva first began to coin money in 1x29, under
the government of Conrad. Those of the dukes of
Savoy began in the same century.
Aquilcia. Coins were issued from this city by the
patriarchs from 1204 to 1440.
Ferrara. Coins of the marquises from 1340.
11. French coins. During the race of Clovis,
from 490 till 751, the coins are chiefly gold tricntts,
with some solidi and semisses. The former are of good
workmanship, with the heads of kings. The reverse
has a cross, with the name of the town where they
were struck.
The coins of the second race begin with Pepin in
751, and continue till Hugh Capet in 987. The
coins of the first race are elegant, but those of the se¬
cond entirely the reverse, being almost all silver pen¬
nies, and seldom bearing the portrait of the king.
Those of Charlemagne have only Carolus in the
field j while the reverse bears R. F. or some such in¬
scription ; though one piece struck at Rome has a
rude bust of him. The coins of Louis le Debonnaire
are better done.
The third race begins with Hugh Capet in 987,
and extends to this time. The coinage did not begin
to improve till 1226 under St Louis, when the groat
appears. Its name in I talian is grosso, in French grosscy
in English gt'oat, or great coin so called from its size
in comparison with the penny j and it passed from Ita¬
ly to France, to Germany, and to England. After
the conquest of France by the English, base coins of
many kinds were introduced 5 and in the year I574»
in the time of Henry III. copper was first introduced
into the French coinage. Besides these, the other re¬
markable coins of France are, the blancs or billon
groats first issued in 1348 ; the ect/s a la couronnc, or
crowns of gold, so called from the crown on one side,
and begun by Charles ^ I. in 1384 > those of Ann of
Bretagne in 1498 : the teston, or piece with the
king’s head, of Louis XII j the Henri of Henry II.
with Gaul sitting in armour, and a \ ictory in her
hand. There are many coins of Cardinal Bourbon,
elected king in 1589-, and in 1642, Louis XIV,
takes the title of Catalonia Princeps. The first
louis d'or made its appearance in 1640 ; but such
wras the poverty of France, if we believe certain au¬
thors, that in 1719 the duke of Orleans regent struck
copper for silver.
12. Spanish coins. The most early series of these
consists almost entirely of trientes, finely done. On
one side they have the head of the king with his name,
and on the other a cross, with the name of the town,
commonly in BeCtica, or the south part of Spain,
where there were a great many Roman colonies, and
which was fertile to a proverb. The Moresque coins
of Spain, like those of the rest of the Mohammedan
states, present us only with insipid inscriptions on both
sides. Indeed the Mohammedan religion by its abso¬
lute refusal to allow the representation of any living
creature, has prevented the progress of coinage in any
deeree throughout those regions which it has over-
5 spread.
174
M E D
Modern
Coins.
spread. The Inscription on the ancient Spanish coins
are in the Cufic dr old Arabic characters.
13. Portugal. No description of the coins of this
kingdom has yet appeared.
14. Germany. No account of the German coins
has been published j though it is well known that not
only the emperors, but many of the cities, particularly
those called Hanse-trnvns, issued money 5 and many of
the coins issued by the cities were superior in elegance
even to those issued by the emperors.
15. Denmark. Here the coinage begins with Ca¬
nute the Great in 1014. The pieces are at first ex¬
tremely rude, ornamented only with rings and Runic
characters. These are succeeded by copper pieces,
some of which have a cross, others a pastoral stall, on
one side, with the letter A on the other, Later coins
have strokes mi, &c. all round them •, but those ot
Harold, Hardicanute, and Magnus Bonus, in 1041,
are of neat workmanship, and have the portraits of the
princes at half length. The coins of Nicolas, or Nicl,
as he is called by the Danes, are rude, as well as those
of Waldemar I. and the celebrated Margaret. In
1376 Olaf caused money to be struck with a grinning
full face, with a crowned O upon the other side.
“ The Swedes (says Mr Pinkerton) took these coins
extremely ill, as they thought they grinned at them.”
Silver was first coined in Denmark by Philippa
queen of Eric, and daughter to Henry IV. of Eng¬
land.
16. Sweden. The coinage of this kingdom began
in 818 under Biorno, on the plan of Charlemagne.
The coins are marked with a cross. Next follow
those of Olaf in 1019 : which Mr Pinkerton supposes
to have been the first true Swedish coins j and that
the art of coinage first passed from England into Den¬
mark in the time of Canute the Great, and from Den¬
mark into Sweden. These coins were struck on the
English model. During the time that Sweden was
subject to Denmark, or miserably harassed by the
Danes, the coins of both kingdoms were the same;
but after the time of Gustavus Vasa many elegant
pieces appear. In 1634, dollars were coined with the
portrait of Gustavus Adolphus, who was killed two
years before : on the reverse they have the arms of
Sweden, with the chemical marks of mercury and
sulphur. In 1716, 1717, and 1718, Charles XII.
being in extreme want of money, issued small copper
coins with Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, &c. upon them, to
go for dollars; and on account of this scheme, Ba¬
ron Goertz, the suggestor of it, was brought to the
block.
17. Norway. The coins of this country begin with
Olaaf in 1006 ; after which time there are various coins
of other princes j but copper was not coined till the
year 1343. _
Besides the coins already mentioned, there are eccle¬
siastic coins of France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden,
Norway, &c. Those of Denmark and Sweden are
numerous, but the Norwegian coins of this denomina¬
tion are rare. Mr Pinkerton describes a silver one in
his possession as having arms and a mitre, with the in¬
scription on one side, Sanctus Olaws RexNorveyj
on the reverse, Olaws Dei Gra. Arcep. Nid’sen,
meaning Nidrosiensis, or archbishop of Nidros, now
Drontheim.
A L S.
18. Bohemia. The coinage of this kingdom ap¬
pears at a very early date, viz. in the year 909, under
Duke Boleslaus I. These coins are followed by others1
of Boleslaus II. and Emma his wife in 970 5 of Bo¬
leslaus III. in 1002 j Jaromir in 1020 } Udalrich in
1030, and other princes. The bractcate money of Ot-
tocar I. was coined in 1197.
19. Poland. The coinage of this country is nearly
as ancient as that of Bohemia. The coins are on the
German model, but no particular account of them has
been published.
20. Russia. None of the Russian money appears to
be more ancient than the 13th century. The first are
the kopecks or silver pennies, which have upon them
rude figures of animals on one side, and a man standing
with a bow or spear on the other. There are likewise
coins of Moscow struck by Aristoteles the architect in
1482. The roubles or dollars and their halfs. There
are some of the impostor Demetrius in 1605, which are
very scarce.
21. Prussia. The first Prussian coins were struck
at Culm by the Teutonic knights in 1230. They
were silver pennies, and upon the German plan. In
the next century were struck shillings, groats, and
schots; the last were the larg st, and are extremely
rare. They have the Prussian shield, an eagle sur¬
mounting a cross, with a rose-shaped border, moneta
DOMinorum Prussia : on the reverse is a cross fleu-
rie, within a border of a similar kind, having the in¬
scription HONOR MAGISTRI, JUSTITIAM DILIGET.—
Gold coins were struck in the same century. In the
time of Copernicus the money was so debased,
that 12 or 13 marks were worth but one of pure
silver.
22. England. The English coins are of various
kinds.
1st. Heptarchic. These are only of two sorts, viz.
the skeatta or penny of silver, and the styca of copper.
Few of the pennies appear till after the year 700;
though some are met with which bear the name of
Ethelbert I. king of Kent, as old as 560. At first
they had only rude figures of serpents, but in latter
times legends were likewise added. Most of these
pennies have pagan symbols upon them. The styca
was only coined in Northumberland, and was a very
small piece, about the value of half a farthing.
2d. Coins of the chief monarchs of England. Mr
Pinkerton denies that an end was put to the heptar¬
chy by Egbert in 832, as is commonly supposed;
though he owns that he was chief monarch of the coun¬
try, as several others had been before him. Edgar,
who reigned in 959, according to him, was the first
king of England j and the coins of the chief monarchs
form almost a complete series from the time of Eg¬
bert to Edgar. The only chief monarch of whom
there are no coins is Ethelbald, who reigned in 857.
Most of these coins bear rude portraits; but the re¬
verses are sometimes curious and interesting. Some
have views of cathedrals and other buildings j particu¬
larly one of Edward the Elder in 900 j which has the
cathedral of York with three rows of windows, round
arched as the other Saxon and Norman buildings : the
Gothic arch being quite unknown till after the 12th
century. Some coins of Anlaf king of Northumber¬
land have the famous raven, the Danish ensign: and
3 those
MED
those of other princes have frequently very curious re-
11 verses.
. i 3d. Ecclesiastic coins appear of the archbishops of
Canterbury, Wulfred in 804, Ceolnoth, in 830, and
Plegmund in 889.
4th. Coins of the kings of England. The silver pen¬
ny, which had begun during the heptarchy, continued
to be the general coin after the kingdom had been
united under one head $ and extends in a continued
series from Egbert almost to the present reign. The
only kings wanting are Edmund Ironside, Richard I.
and John, At first the penny weighed 22— grains:
but towards the close of the reign of Edward III. it
fell to 18 grains j and in that of Edward IV. to 12.
In the time of Edward VI. it was diminished to 8
grains ; and in Queen Elizabeth’s reign to y-j-V j at
which it still continues.
Halfpennies and farthings were first struck in silver
by Edward I. in 1280; the former continued to the
time of the commonwealth, but the latter ceased with
^Edward VI. The groat was introduced by Edward
III. in 1354, and continues to this day, though not
in common circulation. The half-groat or two-pence
is of the same date, and also continues to the present
time.
Shillings were first coined by Henry VII. in 1503.
At first it was called testoon, from the teste, tete, or head
of the king upon it; the name shilling being derived
from the German schelling; under which appellation
coins had been struck at Hamburgh in 1407. The
crown was first coined in its present form by Henry
VHI. Formerly it had appeared only in gold, whence
the phrase of crowns of gold ; though these indeed
were the largest gold coins known for a long time in
France and other countries on the continent, being
worth about 10s. sterling. They had their name from
the crown stamped on one side, and were first coined
by Charles \ I. in 1384, and continued till the time
of Louis XIV. The half-crown, sixpence, and three¬
pence, wrere coined by Edward VI. In 1558 Queen
Elizabeth coined three halfpenny, and in 1 561 three
farthing pieces j but they were discontinued in 1582.
From the year 1601 to the present time the coins of
England remain the same.
Gold was coined in England by Henrv III. in
1257 ’ piece was called a gold penny, and was lar¬
ger than the silver one j and the execution is by no
means bad for the time. The series of gold coinage,
however, commences properly from Edward III. In
1344, this monarch first struck florins, in imitation of
those in I taly; and it is remarkable, that though these
coins at the time they were first issued bore only six
shillings value, they are now intrinsically worth 19s. 5
so much has the value of gold increased since that
time. The half and quarter florin were struck at the
same time, but only the last has been found. The
florin, however, being found inconvenient, gave place
to the noble of 6s. 8d. value, and exactly half a mark.
The latter had its name from being a limited sum in
accounts: and was eight ounces in weight, two thirds
of the money pound. It is sometimes also called seli-
bra, as being one-half of the commercial pound of 16
ounces. The noble had its name from the nobility of
the metal j the gold of which it was coined being of
the finest sort. Sometimes it was called rose noble.
AES.
from both sides being impaled in an undulating circle. Modem
It continued with the half and quarter noble to be the Coins,
only gold coin till the angels of Edward IV. appeared 'r~~‘
m 1465. rIhese had their name from being stamped
with the image of Michael and the dragon. The an-
gelets of 3s. 4d. value were substituted in their place.
In 1527 Henry VIII. added to the gold coined the
crown and half-crown at their present value 5 and the
same year he gave 'sovereigns of 22s. 6d. and ryals of
J is. 3d. angels at 7s. 6d. and nobles at their old value
of 6s. 8d. In 1546 he caused sovereigns to be coined
ol the value of 20s. and half-sovereigns in proportion.
His gold crown is about the size of our shilling, and
the half-crown of six-pence, but thin. All his coins,
however, gold as well as silver, are much debased 5 and
it was not without much labour and trouble that Ed¬
ward \ I. brought it hack to its former standard. On
the union of the two crowns, James gave the sovereign
the name of unite; the value continuing of 20s. as
before. He coined also rose-ryals of 30s. value, spm--
ryals of 15s. angels of 10s. and angelets of 5s. Un¬
der the commonwealth, the sovereign got the name of
the twenty-shilling piece, and continued current till the
coinage of guineas. These were so called from their
being coined of Guinea gold, and were at first only
to go for 20s. though by an universal but tacit consent
they always passed for 21s. Half-guineas, double
guineas, and five guinea pieces, were also coined dur¬
ing the same reign •, which still continue, though the
two latter are not in common circulation. Quarter
guineas were coined by George I. and likewise by his
present majesty 5 but they were found so trouble¬
some on account of their small size, that they were
stopped within a year or two, when received at the
bank of England, and thus are not to be met with at
present. A few pieces of 7s. value have likewise been
coined, and are known by the lion above the helmet \
but none have been issued. In 1688 the guinea rose*
to 2is. 6d. and continued to increase in value till
1696, when it was as high as 30s. j but after the re¬
coinage in 1697 and 1698 it fell by degrees, and in 1717
was at its old standard of 21s. and at that time silver
was fixed at its present standard value, viz. as 1 to 15-J
in weight.
Though the first money coined in Britain, as wre
have already observed, was copper, yet, excepting the
Northumbrian stycas, no copper coin was found in
England from the time of the Saxon conquest till the
year 1672. An aversion to a copper coinage it seems
was prevalent throughout the nation j and Queen Eli¬
zabeth, who without hesitation used base money for
Ireland, yet scrupled at coining copper for England.
This want of small coin occasioned such an increase of
private tokens for halfpennies and farthings that it be¬
came a serious object to government*, and in 1594 a C0P"
per coinage was seriously thought of. This year a small
copper cpin was struck about the size of a silver two¬
pence, with the queen’s monogram on one side, and a
rose on the other j the running legend on both sides
being, the pledge of a halfpenny. Of this there
are patterns both in copper and silver, but both of
them soon fell into disuse. On the 19th of May 1613,
King James by royal proclamation issued farthing
tokens. They are generally of the same size with the
two pence, with two sceptres in saltier surmounted
with
176 M E D
Modem with a crown, and the harp upon the other j with an
Coin*, intention, as it would seem, that if they were refused
’ " v in England, they might pass in Ireland. In 1635
Charles I. coined those with the rose instead of the
harp hut the circulation of these was entirely stopped
hy the vast number of counterfeits which appeared,
and hy the king’s death in 1648. After this the pri¬
vate tokens began again to be circulated, till put a stop to
by the coinage of farthings in 1672. The workman¬
ship of the tokens is quite contemptible. In 1672
the halfpence as well as the farthings which had been
struck two years before began to circulate. They
were of pure Swedish copper, the dies engraved hy
lioettier ; and they continued till the year 1684, when
some disputes arose about the copper lately obtained
from the English mines. Tin farthings were coined with
a stud of copper in the centre, and inscribed round the
edge as the crown pieces, with nummorum famulus.
2685 or 1686. In 1686 halfpence of the same kind
were coined j and the tin coinage continued till the
year 1692, to the value of more than 65,000!. j but
next year the tin wras all called in by government, and
the copper coinage recommenced. The farthings of
Queen Anne are all trial pieces, excepting those of
1714, the last year of her reign. “ 1 hey are (says
Mr Pinkerton) of exquisite workmanship, exceeding
most copper coins either ancient or modern, and will
do honour to the engraver Air Croker to the end of
time.” The one, whose reverse is Peace in a car, pax
missa per orbem, is the most esteemed ; and next to
it the Britannia under a portal. The other half¬
pence and farthings are less valuable.
23. Scotland. Silver pennies of Alexander I. who
reigned in 1107, are believed to exist; and there cer¬
tainly are some of Alexander II. in 1214. There are
likewise coins of David in 1124 j but perhaps none of
Malcolm IV. his successor, whose reign was very
short. There are many coins of W illiam I. in 1165 j
and a large hoard of his pennies wras found at Inverness
in 1780.
The money of Scotland continued to be of the same
value with that of England till the country was drain¬
ed by the vast ransom of David II. after which it be¬
came necessary to reduce its size; and so much did this
diminution affect England, that Edward 111. found
himself obliged to lessen the English coin also. The
diminution of the Scottish coin, however, continued
still to go on until it became impracticable to keep
par with that of England. In the first year of Bo-
bert III. it passed only for one half of its nominal value
in England : in 1393, Richard II. ordered it only to
go for the weight of the genuine metal it contained.
In 1600 it had sunk to such a degree as to pass-only
for a twelfth part of the English money, and conti¬
nued at that low ebb till the coinage of Scotland was
entirely cancelled by the union of the two king¬
doms.
Of silver coins we have only pennies till the year
1 293, when Edward I. having coined halfpence and
farthings, Alexander III. of Scotland coined also
halfpence, of which we have a few, but no farthings
are to be met with ; but there are silver farthings of
Robert I. and David II. The latter introduced the
groat and half-groat, which completed the set of Scot¬
tish silver. It continued unaltered till the time of
A L S.'
Queen Alary, when they all ceased to be coined iff ModM,
silvex*, on account of the high price of that metal. Coins.
In 1553 shillings were first coined, with the bust of
the queen on one side and the arms of 1 ranee and
Scotland on the other. The silver crown was first
coined in 1565, which went for 30s. Scots; lesser
pieces of 20s. and 10s. having likewise been struck,
and marks of silver, worth 3s. 4d. English, were also
coined about the same time. These coins have upon
them the marks xxx. xx. x. to denote their value.
They are commonly called Cmickstone dollars, from
the palm-tree upon them, mistaken for a remarkable
yew at Cruickstone near Glasgow, whei-e Henry Darn-
ley resided. It is described, however, in the act as a
palm, with a “ shell-padoc” (a tortoise) crawling up.
This alludes to Darnley’s marx-iage with the queen, as
the motto from Propertius Dat Gloria A ires also
implies. The motto Nemo me impune lacesset
first appears on the Scottish coins in 1578, and the in¬
vention is given to the celebrated Buchanan. In 1582,
the crown of an ounce weight went for qcs. Scots,
and was accordingly marked XL. ; in 1597 maik
was L. the Scottish money being then only one-tenth
of the English t the mark was LX. in 1601, the value
being then reduced to one-twelfth, at which it has
ever since continued. In the time of Charles I. half
marks, 40 and 20 penny pieces, were coined. In 1675
the Scottish dollai'S fii’st appeared, in value 56s. Scots,
with halves and quarters of proportional value. In
1686, Janies ATI. coined 60s. 40s. 20s. 10s. and cs.
pieces ; hut only those of 40s. and 10s. ax-e known,
with these numbers under the bust. At the union of
the kingdoms all the Scottish coins were called in,
and recoined at Edinburgh, with the maik E under
the bust to distinguish it: since which there has been
no coinage in Scotland. The Scottish silver coins are
in general equal, if not superior, in the workmanship
to the English.
Gold was first issued hy Robert II. about 30 years
after Edward III. of England had coined the same
metal in that country. The pieces were at first called
St. Andrews, from the figure of that tutelar saint
upon the cross, and who appears on the obverse with
the arms of Scotland, and on the reverse a lion in a
shield. The lion was another name for the largest gold
coin in Scotland, from the arms of the kingdom upon
it. The next was the unicorn, under James III.;
which were followed by the bonnet-pieces of James A1.
These last are of admirable workmanship, being almost
equal to the ancient coins in this respect. In imita¬
tion of the French, the monarch we speak of dimi¬
nished the size of the coin without lessening its weight;
an improvement not adopted by the English for a
whole century. The last gold coined in Scotland was
the pistole and half pistole, of twelve and six pounds
Scots. These coins have the sun under the head. The
gold coins of Scotland fell in the same proportion with
the silver.
The copper coinage of Scotland is of more early
date than that of England. It was preceded by mo¬
ney of billon, or copper washed with silver, called black
money. James III. first coined black faithings in
1466 ; and this is recorded by historians as one of bis
gi-eatest faults. This kind of coinage, however, con¬
tinued as late as the reign of James AT. In his time
MED
rn ^ie true C0PPer Coinage began j but as the value of
Cc i. Scottish money had now declined almost to the ut-
most, the pieces suddenly assumed a form almost re¬
sembling that of the French coins. The bodle, so
called from Bothwell the mintmaster, being equal in
size to the Hard, and worth two pennies Scottish, was
struck. The billon coin, formerly called bas piece,
and worth six pennies Scots, was now coined in cop¬
per, and termed the baw-bee. Thus it corresponded
with the French half sol and English halfpenny, the
Scots penny being now equivalent to the French de¬
nier. Some pieces named Atkinsons were coined by
James VI. in 1582, when the Scottish money was to
the English as 1 to 8 ; but on its being still farther
reduced, they went for 8 pennies, a third more than
the value of the baw-bee. Besides these there were
the hardie and plack, the former being worth three
and the latter four pennies Scots. This coinage con¬
tinued through the reigns of Charles I. and II. but
Scottish coins of the former are, perhaps, the scarcest
of any.
24. Ireland. The first coins introduced into this king¬
dom seem to have been those of the Danes, and which
have only a number of strokes around them instead of
letters. In the tenth century, however, this coinage
had been considerably improved } and in 930 and 994
there are pennies struck in Dublin, with the inscrip¬
tion on Dvfli or Dyfli, Dujlin or Dyflin being the
Danish name of that city. There are likewise coins
of the Irish princes themselves, and of the English
monarchs, struck in Ireland as early as the ninth cen¬
tury ; and it is asserted by some, that Ireland even in
these days had been conquered by England *, of which,
indeed, these coins seem to be a proof. None of the
Irish coins of Henry II. are to be met with, but we
have some of the coins of John; and from his time
to that of Henry V. the Irish coins are known by a
triangle enclosing the king’s head, which appears also
upon the coins of other nations at this period. The
harp does not appear upon the Irish coins till the time
of Henry VIII. Till the time of this monarch, the
English and Irish coins are the same ; but the same de¬
basement of the coin which at that time took place in
England extended also to Ireland ; but in 1601 copper
halfpence and farthings were coined also for this king¬
dom. These circulated in Ireland when James VI.
issued his farthing-tokens of copper, the latter being
of two sizes, that if they failed in England they might
•be sent to Ireland as pennies and halfpence. In 1635
a mint was established in Dublin by Charles I. but it
was stopped by the Irish massacre, and the many di¬
sturbances which followed j since which time the scheme
has not been resumed. After the massacre, St Pa¬
trick’s halfpence and farthings were coined by the Pa¬
pists, bearing the legends Floreat Rex, and on the
reverse Ecce Grex j on the farthing Quiescat
Plebs. Copper tokens were struck by towns and
tradesmen, as in England and Scotland. In 1680, half¬
pence and farthings were issued by authority, with the
harp and date. In 1689, James II. having invaded
Ireland, instituted a mint, and coined shillings and
half crowns of all the refuse metal he could find, par¬
ticularly some brass guns were employed, whence the
coinage is commonly called gun-money. Even this
•metal, however, soon became so scarce, that a diminu-
Vol. XIII. Part I.
A L S. 17'
tion in its size is quite apparent from June 1689 to Modern
July 1690 } and as the month of their mintage is Coins,
marked upon them, this decrease is easily perceived.
In March 1690, pennies of lead mixed with tin were
issued; and on the 15th of June the same year, crowns
of white metal were coined ; but these arc now very
scarce. In 1722, the patent for coining halfpence and
farthings was given to William Wood, which excited
such discontent in Ireland. From the small size allow¬
ed by the patent to these pieces, it was supposed that
the patentee would have gained 6o,oool. but as he
caused them to be struck of a size still smaller, his
gains were estimated at ioo,oool. The coins, how¬
ever, are of admirable workmanship, and very fine cop- *
per, bearing the best portrait of King George I. to be
found any where. Sir Isaac Newton, at that time at
the head of the mint, declared that they were supe¬
rior to the English coins in every thing except the size*
In 1737 the Irish halfpence and farthings, with the
harp on the reverse, were coined, and continue to the
present time. In 1760, there was such a scarcity of
copper coin, that some private persons applied for leave
to coin halfpence, which appeared with a very bad por¬
trait of George II. and the words Voce Populi around
it. No gold or silver has been coined in Ireland since
the massacre of 1641.
Table V. Modern Medals, properly so called.
I. Scottish medals. These fake the lead in the pre¬
sent article, the first modern medals of gold being those
of David II. struck between the years 1330 and 1370.
Only two of them are known to exist; one in the col¬
lection of Mr Barker of Birmingham, and the other
in that of Dr Hunter. In 1487, there is a medal of
James III. sent to the shrine of St Amboise in France.
It is described as of two inches and a third in diame¬
ter ; the weight near two ounces ; having on the ob¬
verse a beaixiless king, with long hair, sitting on a
throne, holding in one hand a naked sword ; in the
other a shield, with the Scottish arms. On the bor¬
ders of the canopy above the throne is an inscription
in Gothic letters, IN MI DEFFEN, being .corrupt
French for In my defence; a common motto in the
Scottish arms. Above the canopy is Villa Ber-
wichi : the reverse bears St Andrew and his cross,
SALVUM FAC POPULUM tuum domine. There is also
a medal of James IV. m the collar of St Michael, hav¬
ing on the reverse a Doric pillar surmounted by a young
Janus, standing on a hill, beyond which is the sea, and
land on either side. This, however, is by some sus¬
pected to be a forgery.
The most remarkable Scottish medals are those of
the unfortunate Mary. The first is properly French,
having been issued at her coronation as queen of
France, along with her husband King I rancis II.
On the obverse of this piece there are portraits of
Francis and Mary, face to face, with three legends
around them, the outermost containing their titles ;
the middle one the following sentence : Hora NONA
DOMINUS J. H. s. EXPIRAVIT BELLI CLAMANS ; the
innermost the name of the city (Pans). On the re¬
verse are the arms of France and Scotland. line
testoons were also coined upon the same plan, and are
now so rare that Dr Hunter gave ten guineas for one
, Z which
178 M E D
Modern which is in his collection. The same portraits appear
. Medals, on the fine crown of Mary and Henry, in 1565, which
* is so rare as to be esteemed a medal of the highest va¬
lue j and Mr Pinkerton imagines, that if offered to
sale it would bring 40 or 50 guineas.
Another remarkable medal of Mary represents her
full-faced and weeping, with the inscription, O God
GRANT PATIENCE IN THAT I SVFFER VRANG. The
reverse has in the centre, Quho can compare with
ME IN GRIEF, X DIE AND DAR NOCHT SEEK RELIEF*,
with this legend around, Hourt not the (figure of
a heart) quhais joy thou art. There are also
many counters of this unfortunate princess, being
thin silver pieces of the size of a shilling. “ They
all appear (says Mr Pinkerton) to have been done in
France, by the direction of Mary, who was fond of de¬
vices. Her cruel captivity could not debar her from
intercourse with her friends in France, who must with
pleasure have executed her orders, as aft’ording her a
little consolation.”
The coronation medal of Charles II. struck at Edin¬
burgh for his inauguration, June 18. 1663, is remark¬
able as being the only one ever coined of Scottish gold,
and the first in Britain struck with a legend on the
edge. With respect to the workmanship, it is inferior
to Simon’s. Of these medals only three are known to
exist, of which one is in the Museum. It is not un¬
common in silver} in which case it sometimes wants
the legend on the edge.
2. Italian medals. These appear in the 15th cen-
tury, and from that time successively in most Euro¬
pean countries. Vittore Pisano, a painter of Verona,
is celebrated as the restorer of the art, hut it remains
to be accounted for how the medals of King David,
already mentioned, came to exist so long before. Mr
Pinkerton considers this artist rather as an inventor
than a restorer, his medals having no resemblance to
the ancient coins, as being large, and all east. They
were first modelled in wax, then a mould taken from
the model in fine sand and other ingredients. After
a good cast was procured, it was touched up, and
made a model for the rest. These medals of Pisano,
are almost always inscribed Opm Pisani Pic torts. The
portraits of a great number of illustrious men were
done by him in this manner ; and in the British Mu¬
seum is a large brass medal of Pisano by himself.—
Other artists were Boldu, Marescotto, Matthceus do
Pastas, Sperandes, Misaldone, &c. Towards the end
of the century, however, the medals began to assume
a more elegant appearance } and the papal ones are
not only the most elegant but the most ancient series
of all the modern medals. The improvement began
in the reign of Alexander VI. so famous for bis own
crimes, and those of his nephew Caesar Borgia. His
successors, Julius II. Leo X. Hadrian VI. and Cle¬
ment VII. had many of their medals designed by Ra¬
phael, Julio Romano, and other eminent painters,
and the engraving executed by artists of equal merit.
Among these were the celebrated Cellini, and the noted
Paduan forgers of Roman coins, Cavino and Bassiano.
In 1644, Cormanni, a medatlic artist, was imprisoned
on account of a piece which represented the Pope up¬
on one side, and Olympia Maidalchina, the relation of
his holiness, on the other. The unfortunate Cor¬
manni poisoned himself. About this time the family
A L Sr
of the Hamerani, originally from Germany, began to ^
engrave the papal medals j which they did with sur- Medak
prising merit for several generations. Each of the'—r*-
daughters did a fine medal, as we are informed by
V enuti.
Besides the papal medals, many have been issued by
the various states of Italy. There are medals of Fre¬
deric II. of Sicily in 1501, of several Venetian gene¬
rals in 1509, of Alfonso duke of Ferrara in 1511,
and of the celebrated Andrew Doria in 1528.
3. French medals. Till the reign of Louis XIV.
the medals of this country are neither fine nor nume¬
rous ; but this monarch exceeds all modern princes in
this way. Many of his pieces are well designed and
executed, though objectionable on account ol their
falsehood.
4. Danish medals. These appear of Christian II.
in 1516, of Frederic and Sophia in 1532, of Frede¬
ric I. and Christian HI. in bonnets worn in the 16th
century. The elephant of the house of Oldenburg is
frequent upon Danish medals.
5. Swedish medals. These begin with Gustavus
Vasa; and several of Christina are likewise to be met
with. There are also some curious ones of Charles
XII.
6. Dutch medals. These begin in 15665 and many
of them are remarkable for maps and plans, which must
he very interesting to posterity. “ Had the Greeks and
Romans (says Mr Pinkerton) given us maps and plans,
what a fine system of ancient geography and topo¬
graphy a cabinet of medals must have been !”
7. Medals of Spain, Portugal, and Germany. The
Spanish medals began with Gonsalo in 15C3, many of
which are curious and interesting. Under Charles V.
there are many curious Spanish medals } hut those of
Germany begin with Frederic in 1453. They are ex¬
tremely numerous 5 as we may easily suppose from the
greatness of the empire, and various states which
compose it. There is a famous medal of Sebastian
king of Portugal, famous for his unfortunate expedi¬
tion into Africa in 1578 ; with his bust, full face, and
three quarters in length. On the reverse is a shell-fish
in the sea, with the moon and seven stars, bearing the
inscription Serena Calsa favent. There is also a
curious lozenge-shaped coin of the same, with the arms
of Portugal, and the king’s name and title : On the
reverse is a cross with the inscription In hoc signo
VINCES, 1578.
8. Satiric medals. These began almost as soon as
the knowledge of the art of coining medals was revived.
They seem to have been almost unknown to the an¬
cients. One indeed of the emperor Gallienus is sup¬
posed to have been satiric. It has on the front the
emperor’s bust, with the inscription GaelieNvK aug.
the reverse is Peace in a car, Pax Ubique 5 but this
has been proved to be only a blundered coin. Some
other ancient medals, however, are not liable to this
objection. The first modern satiric medal published
was that of Frederic king of Sicily in 1501, against
his antagonist Ferdinand king of Spain. It has on
one side the head of Ferdinand, with the inscription
Ferdinandus r ar. vetus vulpes orbis 5 on the
reverse a wolf carrying off a sheep, JvgvM MEVM
svave est et onvs mevm LEVE. Many others have
been struck, oi which the wit would now perhaps be
difficult
M E I)
i, diflictilt to oe fouml out: Imt of all nations the Dutch
Md have most distinguished themselves in this way j and
-y paid very dear for their conduct, as they brought upon
themselves by one or two satiric medals the whole
power of France under Louis Xl\ .
9. English medals. The first of these is in the duke
of Devonshire’s collection. It is of a large size, and
done on the plan of the early Italian medals. It has
on the reverse the arms of Kendal, with the insci’ip-
tion TEMPORE OBSIDIOXIS TURCORUM, MCCCCLXXX.
On the other side is a portrait with 10 KENDAL RHODI
TVRCVPELLERI VS. It was found last century in Knares-
borough forest ; but Mr Pinkerton has no doubt of
its having been done in Italy. The next is that of
Henry YIII. in 1545, and is of gold, larger than the
crown-piece, with the king’s head upon the obverse,
and three legends within each other, including his
titles, &c. The reverse contains two inscriptions, de¬
claring him to be the head of the church ; the one in
Hebrew, the other in Greek. It was imitated exactly
by Edward VI. whose coronation medal is the first we
have. There are two medals of Philip and Mary,
whose execution is tolerably good 5 but those of Eli¬
zabeth are very poor. There are good medals of
James I. and his queen *, with a fine one of Charles I.
and Henrietta, though the workmanship is much in¬
ferior to the antique. There are many good medals
of Charles, with various devices upon their reverses.
Under the commonwealth the celebrated Simon pro¬
duced medals which are deservedly reckoned the most
admirable pieces of modern workmanship. There are
many good medals of Charles II. James II. and W il-
Kam III. Some are also found of James after his ab¬
dication. Some fine gold, silver, and copper medals,
were issued in the time of Queen Anne 5 the two last
affording a series of all the great actions of the de.ke
of Marlborough. About the year I74°> a series of
medals was engraved in London by Dassier, a native of
Geneva, containing all the kings of England ; being
36 in number. They are done upon fine copper, and
executed with great taste. There are besides many
medals of private persons in England } so that it may
justly be said, that this countiy for medals exceeds al¬
most every other in Europe.
To this account of modern coins and medals we
shall add that of another set called sicgc-pieces, and
which were issued during the time of a siege in cases
of urgent necessity. These were formed of any kind
of metal •, sometimes of no metal ; and Patin mentions
a remarkable one struck at Leyden in I574> '"’hen the
place Avas besieged by the Spaniards. It was ol thick
paper or pasteboard, having a lion rampant, with this
inscription, fvgno pro patria, 1574 j and on the
reverse, Lvgdvnvm Batavorvm. There are various
siege-pieces of Charles I. both in gold and silver, some
of the latter being of the value of 20 shillings.
The nummi bracteati are a species of modern coins
somewhat between counters and money ; and have their
name from the word BRACTEA, a spangle or thin
bit of metal. They are commonly little thin plates
ot silver, stamped as would seem with wooden dies up-
A L S.
on 6ne side only, with the rude impression of various
figures and inscriptions. Most of them are ecclesiastic,
and were struck in Germany, Switzerland, Denmark,
Sweden, Norway, and a few in Poland. They con¬
tinued to be in use in Germany till the end of the 15th
century j and some are still used in Switzerland at this
day.
Table of Abbreviations used in the Legends of
Medals; from Mr Pinkerton,
GREEK COINS,
A.
A. Athens, Argos, Aulus,
Asylum ; primi or first j
aS EQariay A. A<rtxs,
Ephesians, first people
of Asia.
A. Abassus, Abdera, Aby-
dus on Hellespont
AB. Abydus in Egypt
ABT. Abydus on Helles¬
pont
AO. A0P. Athens
AIT. vEgina
Airosno. Aigospotamos
AIA. iElius, HLlia Capito¬
lina
AIN. iEnos
AK.—AKPATANY Agri-
gent um
AKI. Acilium
AKT. Actium
AAE. Alexandria
AM. Amyntas
AMBP. Ambracia
AM<I>I. Amphilochia
AN0. AvBvttxtdv, Proconsul
ANTIS. Antissa
ANA. Anactoria
ANTI. Antium
AN. Ancyra
ANT. Antoninus, Antioch
AS. Axus in Crete
AON. Aonitte
AO YE. Avenio, PclL
AIT. Appius
AITA. Apamea
ADO. Apollonia
AIITA. Aptara
AP. Aradus, Harma
A PTE. Argennos
APT. Argos
API. Aricanda
APIM. Ariminum
A PS I. Arsinoe
APT. Aryca
APX. Atyti^vs or A^»v,
high priest or magistrate
ASIAPX. Asiarclue, presi¬
dents of the games of
Asia (b)
AS. Asylum
A. S. ngATfli Sv§i«5, First
of Syria
ASK. Ascalon
AT. Atabyrium
A TAP. Atarnse
ATT. Augustus
AYPHA. Aurelius
AY. AYT. AvTsxgacTog, Etu-
peror
AYTON. AvTovcpoc, enjoy¬
ing their own laws
a<i>i. Aphyta
A4>P. Africanus
AX. Achaii
B
B. BasiAju, Council: Bery-
tus: Bithynia
BAFHAAO. Bagadaonia
BAA. Valerius
BH. Berytus
BITON. Bitontum
BOI. Boeotia
BPYN. Brundusium
BY. Byzantium
r.
F. FP. FPAM. Grammati¬
cus, or keeper of the re¬
cords
F. Gains, or Caius
FA. GalluSjGallerxus, Gal-
lienus
F. rvu^pov, Illustrious
FEA. Gelas
FEP. Germanicus
FN. Gneius
FOPTY. Gortymt
FPA. Gravisca
A.
A. Decimus, Dymaj
AAK. Dacicus
AAM. Damascus
AAP. Dardanum
AH. Afljtiaj, the people
AHMAPX. EEOYS. with
Tribunitian power
AE. Decelia
AEK. Decius
AEP.
(b) There were also Syriarchse, Lyciarchte, Galatarchte, Bithyniarchte, Cappadociarclue, &c. Motel, Spec.
18o
Abbrevia- AEP. Derbe in Lycaonia
tioiis. AH. Delos
'v AI. Diospolis
APE. Drepanum
ATP. Dyrrhachium
E.
E. Eryce
E. EFE2. Eresus
EAEY. Eleusis
EAEY0. EMvh^ot, Free
EITI. Epidaurus
EPI. Eriza in Caria
Erx. Erchia
EPY. Erythrae
ET. ETO. Eroyj, Year
ET. Etenna in Paraphylia
EX. Efcovnec, Power
EY. EYBO. Euboea
EYE. EvcreSm, Pious
EYT. EyTi^nj, Happy
EC>. E<X>E. Ephesus
Z.
ZA. Zacynthus
ZANKA. Zancle, Messa-
na anciently so called
H.
H. Elium
HE. Hyepoyos, President
HPAK. Heraclea
0.
©A. Thasus
©E. Thespiae
©EE. Thessalonica
©E. 0HB. Thebae
I.
I. IEP. lego?, Sacred
lEPATIY. Hyerapytba
IKAF. Hiccara
IAI. Ilium
IOY. Julis, a city, or Julius
lOYA. Julia
I HA. Hippana
IP. Irene Ins. Pdlerin.
IS. Isus, Istiaea
K.
K. Cains j Ksy<vT«?, Quintus
K. KAIS. Caesar
K. K. Ka<v«v &<><*<«?, Com¬
munity of Cilicia
KAIA. Caelius
KAA. Chalcedon
KAAAI. Callipolis
KAMA. Camara
KAN. Canata
KAH Capua
KAHH. Cappadocia
KAP. Carrhae
KAPT. Carthago
KAY. Caulonia
KE. Ceos
KEO. Cepbalaedis
KI. Cianus, Cibaeum
KIA. Cilbiani
KA. Claeonae, Claudius
KAA- Clazomene
MED
KNI. Cnidus
KO. Corinth
KOIN. Kowv, Community
KOA. KoAonaj, Colony, Co¬
lophon
KOM. Commodus
KOP. Corcyra
KP. Cragus in Lycia
KPA. Cranos
KPH. Crete
KTH. Ctemenae, Pell.
KY. Cuma, Cydonium, Cy-
on
KYO. Cythnus
KYH. Cyprus
KYP. Cyrene
A.
A. or L. At/xeeSavre?, Year
A. Lucius
AA. Lacedaemon
AAM. Lameaj Lampsacus
AAP. Larissa
AAPI. Larinum
AE. AEY. Leucas
AEON. Leontium
AHM. Lemnos
Alii. Lipara
AIYI. Liviopolis
AO. AftK. Locri
AOr. Longone
AYP. AYK. Lyctus
M.
M. Marcus, Malea, Mega¬
lopolis, Mazaka
MA. Maronea, Massilia,
Macedonia
MAT. Magnesia
MAKPO. Macrocephali
MAM. Mamertini
MASS. Massilia
MAZ. Mazara
ME. Menelais, on Syrian
regal coins
MENEK. Menecrates
ME. MET. Megara, Me¬
galopolis, Melite
MET. Mey*Ao;, Great
MEZ. Messana
META. Metapontum-
M. MHTFO. Metropolis
MI. Miletus
MK. Massaka of Cappa¬
docia, on coins of Mi-
thridates VI.
MOP. Morgantia
MY. Mycense
MYP. Myrlea
MYTI. Mytilene
N.
N. Naupactos
NAE. Naxos
NAYAPX. N«t>*g%t£<», en¬
joying a sea-port
N£. Nome a
N. NESiK. Neocori
A L S.
NEOII. Neopolis
NEP. Nerva
NIK. Nicseum, Nicomedia
NYS. Nyssei, on coins of
Scythopolis, Pell.
O.
OI. Oethsei
ON. Ocras, Being
OITEA. Opelius
OH. Opus
OPY. Orycus
OPX. Orchomenus
OYH. or YH Oojrooro? or
Yiroiro?, Consul
OYEP. Verus
OYH. Verus
OYESn. Vespasianus
OYITEA. Vitellius
0$PY. Ophrynium.
n.
n. n«*g«o, ngfl5, upon
n. nonA. Bublius
n. HA. Paphos or Paros
IIAIS. Psestum
nAN. Panormus
HAP. Paropinum
HA PI. Paros
HAP©. Parthicus
HE. Perinthus.
HEA. Pella
IIEP. Fergus
DEPT. Pertinax
HEEK. Pescennius
n. HH. Pelusium
niN. Pinamytse
HA A. Plateae
DO. Pontus
nOAY. Polyrrhenum
HOE. Posidonia
nPAS. Prassus
n. DPY. nivTxvo?, Preefect
IIP. HPES. ngeo-Seo?, Le¬
gate
EPO. Proconnesus
nFOAI. ngo^r-os, Curator
n. nPOT. ngoro?, First
nT. Ptolemais
HY. Pylos
P.
FO. Rhodes
S.
E, EA. Salamis, Samos,Sy¬
ria.
EA. Samosate
EAAAH. Salapia
EAP. Sardis
EE. Seriphus, Segeste
EEB. EiZxros, Augustus
2EA. Selinus, Seleucia
EEHT. Septimius
El. Siphnos
El A. Side
EINI2. Sinope
EMY. Smyrna
ETP. ETPA. SrgaTJsyfl?,
Praetor
EYB. By bar is
EY. SYPA. Syracuse
EYP. Syria
212. Solae
T.
T. Titus
TABAA. Tabala
TA. TANA. Tanagra
TAP. Tarentum, Tarsus
TAYP. Tauromenum
TE. Tementis
TEP. Terina
TH. Tenus
TI. TIB. Tiberius
TPA. Trail is
TPI. Tripolis
TPO. Troizene
TYAN. Tyana
TY. Tyndarus
TYP. Tyre (monogram)
Y.
YE. YEA. Velia
YD. YHAT. Ywacro?, Consul
0.
0. Philip, Phoestus, Phi-
luntium
0A. Phaselis
0AP. Pharsalus
01. Vibius, Philippopolis
0INE. Phineium
0A. Flavius
0OK. Phocaeum
0OYA. Fulvia
0Y. Phycus in Cyrene
X.
X. Chios
XAA. Chalcis
XEP. Chersonesus
XI. Chytri in Crete
Abbrevi |'J
Greek Numerals.
A.
B.
r.
A.
E.
f.
Z.
H.
©.
or Ph
r.
2.
3-
4-
5-
6.
7-
8.
9-
i.
K.
A.
M.
N.
O.
n.
10.
20.
3°*
4o.
5°-
60.
70.
80.
q. or 90,
p. 100,
E. or C 200.
T. 300.
Y. 400.
0*. 500.
X. 600.
if. 700.
12. 800.
q. pOO.
Example,
M E P
i« t L . . Examples. I is 10 : add A to I, and IA makes n :
- «3s- * 801B» 12 5 ir’ r3’ &c: K is 2°’ KA> 21 > &c-
c— —1 makes in. The English word air marks the grand
initial numerals. On coins the numerals are often pla¬
ced in retrograde order j which makes no difference in
the value, as every letter is appropriated to its num¬
ber. Thus TAP or TAT imply the same, 333. But
this advantage being unknown to the Roman numerals
and Arabic cyphers, is apt to puzzle the beginner.
ROMAN COINS.
A
A. aulus : in the exergue
it implies the first mint,
as ant. A. coined at An¬
tioch in R 2 first mint
A. A. A. F. F. Auro, Ar-
gento, .Tire, Flando,
Feriundo
A. or AN. Annus
a. A. Apollo August!
a. F. a. n. Auli filius, Au-
li nepos
ABN, Abnepos
act. Actiacus, orActium
AD. FRY. emv. Ad fruges
emundas
ADIAB. Adiabenicus
ADOP. Adoptatus
ADQ. Adquisita
ADV. Adventus
AED. Aides
AED. P. jEdilitia potestate
AED. s. Aides sacrae
AED. CVR. vEdilis Curulis
AED. PL. Aidilis Plebis
AEL. Ailius
a EM. or aimil. Aimilius
AET. Aiternitas
AFR. Africa, or Africanus
albin. Albinus
alim. ital. Alimentalta-
liee
ann. avg. Annona Au¬
gust!
A. n. F. F. Annum Novum
Faustum Felicem
A NIC. Anicius
ANN. DCCCLXI1II. NAT.
VRB. P. CIR. CON. An¬
no 864, Natali Urbis
Bopulo Circe uses consti-
tuti
ANi. avg. Antonius Au¬
gur
ant. Antonius, or Anto¬
ninus
ap. Appius
a. p. f. Argento Publico
Feriundo
A. POP. FRVG. AC. A Po-
pulo Fruges Acceptae
Aq. or aql. Aquilius
aqva MAR. Aqua Martia
ARAB. adq. Arabia Ad¬
quisita
ARR. Arrius
avg. Augur, Augustus,
Augusta
AVG. D. F. Augustus Divi
Filius
avgg. Two August!
AVGGG. Three Augusti
AVR. or AVREL. Aurelius
B.
B. The mark of the second
mint-in any city
bon. event. Bonus Even-
tus
B. R. p. nat. Bono Rei-
publicae Nato
brit. Britannicus
BRVT. Brutus
C.
c. Caius, Colonia
C. A. Caesarea Augusta
c. cae. or caes. Caesar
caess. Caesares
CARTH. Carthage
cen. Censor
cens. P. Censor Perpetuus
cest. Cestius, or Cestia-
nus
CIR. CON. Circum Condi-
dit, or Circenses Con¬
cessit
CIVIB. ET SIGN. MI LIT. A.
PARTH. RECVP. Civibus
et Signis Militaribus a
Parthis Recuperatis
CN. Cneius
coel. Ccelius
CON. OB. Constantinopoli
Obsignata, or Constan¬
tinopoli Officina secun-
da, or Conflata Obry/.o
COL. Colonia
con. svo. Conservator! suo
concord. Concordia
CL. v. Clypeus Votivus
comm. Commodus
clod. Godins
CL. or CLAVD. Claudius
cos. Consul
coss. Consules
a l s.
CORN. Cornelius
cvr. x. f. Curavit Dena-
rium Faciendum
D.
D. Decimus, Divus, Dc-
signatus
DAC. Dacicus
D. F. Dacia fclix
D. M. Diis Manibus
des. or desig. Designatus
DICT. Dictator.
DOMIT. Domitianus
D. N. Dominus noster
DID. Didius
D. P. Dii Penates
DV. Divus
E.
EID. mar. Idus Martiae
Ex. cons. d. Ex Consen¬
su Decurionum
ex. s. c. Ex Senatus Con-
sulto
EQ.. ORDIN. Equestris Or-
dinis
Ex. A. pv. Ex Argento or
Auetoritate Publica
EXER. Exercitus
ETR. Etruscus
F.
F. Filius, or Filia, or Felix,
or Faciendum, or Fecit
FEE. Felix
FELic. Felicitas
FL. Flavius
flam. Flamen
fort. red. Fortunae Re-
duci
FOVRi. Fourius for Furius
FONT. Fonteius
FRVGIF. Frugiferie (Cere-
ri)
FVL. Fulvius
FVLG. Fulgerator
G.
G. Gneius, Genius, Gau-
dium
GA. Gaditanus
G. D. Germanicus Dacicus
GEN. Genius
GERM. Germanicus
GL. E. R. Gloria Exercitus
Romani
gl. P. R. Gloria Populi
Romani
GOTH. Gothicus
G. P. R. Genio Populi Ro¬
mani
G. T. A. Genius Tutelaris
iEgypti, or Africae
HEL. Helvius
HEL. Heliopolis
her. Herennius, or He-
rennia
ho. Honos
hs. Sestertius
I.
I. Imperator, Jovi, Julius
ian. clv. Janum clusit for
clausit
imp. Imperator
impp. Imperatores
I. S. M. R. Juno Sospita,,
Mater or Magna Re¬
gina
IT. Italia, Iterum
ite. Iterum
IVL. Julius or Julia
I VST. Justus
l-l. S. Sestertius
I. o. M. sacr. Jovi Opti¬
mo, Maximo, Sacrum
II. vir. Duumvir
III. vir. R. p. c. Triumvir
ReipublicEe Constituen-
dae
mi. VIR. a. P. F. Qua-
tuorvir, or Quatuorviri,
Auro, or Argento, or
/Ere, Publico Feriundo
IVN. Junior
L.
L. Lucius
lat. Latinus
LEG. PROPR. Legatus Pro-
praetoris
leg. 1. &c. Legio Prima,
&e.
LEP. Lepidus
LENT. CVR. x. P. Lentu-
lus Curavit Denarium
Faciundum
LIBERO ?. Libero Patri
LIB. pvb. LibertasPublica -
Lie. Licinius
L. s. den. Lucius Sicinius
Dentatus
LVC. Lucifera
LVD. CIR. Ludi Circenses
LVD. EQ. Ludi Equestres
LVD. SAEC. F. Ludos Sae-
culares Fecit
M.
M. Marcus, or Marius
mar. cl. Marcellus Clo-
dius
M. F. Marci Filius
M. OTACIL. Marcia Qta-
cilia
MAG. or MAGN. MagllUS
mac. Macellum
MAR. Martia (aqua)
MAR. VLT. Marti Ultori
MAX. Maximus
MESi Messius
metal. Metallum
minat. Minatius
miner. Minerva
M. M. I. V.
|82
M E D
M. M. L. V. MunlcIpes Mti-
nicipii Julii Uticcnsis
MON. or MONET. Moncta
N.
N. Nepos or Nosier
N. c. Nobilissimus Coesar
NAT. VRB. Natalis Urbis
NEP. Nepos
nep. red. Neptuna Re-
tluci
O.
o. Optimo
ob. c. s. Ob Gives Serva-
tos
OF. Officina.
OPEL. Opelius
orb. TERR. Orbis Tcrra-
rum
P.
p. or pot. Potestate
PAC. ORB. TER. Pacatorx
Orbis Terrarum
papi. Papius or Papirius
parth. Parthicus
PERP. Perpetuus
PERT, or PERTIN. Pertinax
pesc. Pescennius
p. F. Pius Felix
plaet. Plaetonius
p. l. N. Pecunia Londini
Notata
P. LON. s. Pecunia Lomli-
ni Signata
p. m. or PONT. MAX. Pon-
tifex Maximus
POMP. Pompeius
p. p. Pater Patriae
pr. Praetor
p. r. Populus Romanus
PRAEF. CLAS. ET OR. MA-
rit. Praefectus Classis
et Orae Maritimae
PRINC. INVENT. Princeps
J uventutis
priv. Privernum
proc. Proconsul
PRON. Pronepos
prop. Propraetor
PROQ,. Proquaestor
prov. DEOR. Providentia
Deomm
PVPIEN. Pupienus
Q.
0,. Quintus, or Quaestor
q. c. M. p. i. Quintus Cte-
cilius Metellns Pius Im-
perator
q. desig. Quaestor Desig-
natus
q. P. Quaestor Praetorius
q. pr. Quaestor Provincialis
r!
R. Roma, Restituit
recep. Receptis, or Re-
ceptus
rest. Restituti
rom. et avg. Romoe et
Augusto
r. p. Respublica
S.
saec. avr. Saeculum Au-
reum
saec. fel. Saeculi F elicitas
sal. Sains
sall. Sallustia
SARM. Sarmaticns
s. c. Senatus Consul to
SCIP. ASIA. Scipio Asiati-
cus
SEC. ORB. Securitas Orbis
sec. perp. Securitas Per-
petua
SEC. TEMP. Securitas Tem-
porum
SEN. Senior
SEPT. Septimius
serv. Servius
sev. Severus
sex. Sextus.
sic. v. sic. x. Sicut Quin-
quennalia, sic Dccenna-
lia
SIG. Signis
s. M. Signata Moneta
s. P. q. R. Senatus Popu-
lusque Romanus
stabil. Stabilita (terra)
svl. Sulla
T.
T. Titus, Tribunus
ter. Terentius, or Terbi¬
um
temp. Temporum
Ti. Tiberium
tr. or trev. Treveris
tree. Trebonianus
TR. MIL. Tribunus Milita-
vis
TR. P. or TRIE. pot. Tri-
bunicia Potestate
V.
v. Quintum
v. s. Vir Clarissimus x
vesp. Yespasianus
viB. Yibius
i VICT. Victoria
vii. vir. epvl. Septemvir
Epulonum
VIL. pvb. Villa Publica
virt. Virtus
VN. air. Vencrandae Me¬
moriae
VOT. X. MVLT. XX. Votis
Decennalibus Multipli-
catis Vicennalibus
X.
x. Decern, Denarius
XV. VIR.SARR. FAC. Quin-
decim Vir Sacris Faci-
undis.
A L S.
Ablircvi
Abbreviations w the Exergue ; from Bouduri and Mo- tious
raidini. Pinkerton. v'-
A. Officina Prima
ale. Alexandria
amb. Antiochensis Mone¬
ta Secundse Officinae
AN. ANT. ANTI. Antiochia
anb. Antiochiae Secunda
Officinia: to anh. Anti¬
ochiae Octava Officina
A. P. L. (In officina) Prima
percussa Lugduni
Aq. AqL. Aquileiae
Aq. o. B. F. Aquileiae Of¬
ficina Secundae Fabrica
Aq. P. s. Aquileim Peeu-
nia Signata
A. ar. ARL. Arelate
A. sisc. Prima (in officina)
Sisciae
B. sirm. Secunda Sirmii
B. s. L. c. Secunda Signa¬
ta Lugduni
c. ©. ConstantinopoliNona
comob. Conflata Moneta
Obryxo. Only on gold
or silver from a gold
die
con. Censtantinopoli
conob. Conflata Qbryzo.
Only on gold
CONS. Constantinopoli
KART. Carthago
K. o. Carthaginensis Offi¬
cina
L. LC. LVC. LVG. Lucdu-
ni, Lugduni
L. LON. Londini
L. p. Lugdunensis velLon-
dinensis Pecunia
LVC. P. s. Lugduni Pecu¬
nia Signata
mbps. Mediolani Pecunia
Signata
M. K. v. T. Moneta Ivar-
taginensis Urbs (in offi¬
cina) Tertia
m. l. Moneta Lugdunen¬
sis vel Londinensis
mostT. Moneta Officime
Secundae Treverorum
mstr. Moneta Signata
Treveris
o. Officina
OFF. ill. const. Officina
Tertia Constantinopoli
P ARL. Percussa or Pecunia
Arelate
PLON. Pecunia Londinen¬
sis
tlvg. Pecunia Lugdunen¬
sis
p. R. Pecunia Romana, or
Percussa Romae
P. T. Pecunia Treverensis
q. ar. Quincta Arelatensis
(officina)
r. ro. rom. Romae
ra. Ravennae
rops. Romae Pecunia Sig¬
nata
s. ar. Signata Arelate
S. const. Signati Constan¬
tinopoli
sis. Sisciae
ss. p. Sisciensis Pecunia
sisc. v. Siscia Urbs
SMA. Signata Moneta An¬
tiochiae
s. M. her. Signata Mone¬
ta Heracleae
s. M. N. Signata Moneta
Nicomediae
s. M. R. Signata Moneta
Romae
s. T. Signata
tesob. Tessalonicae Offici¬
na Secunda
theopo. Theopoli
TR. Treveris
trob. Treveris Officina
Secunda
A List of Roman Colonies whose Coins remain ; and
Abbreviations on these Coins.
Abdera in Spain
Acci in Spain
Achulla in Africa
iElia Capitolina in Judaea
Agrippina in Germany
Antiochia in Pisidia
—————in Syria
Apamea in Bithynia
Arna in Thessaly
Astigi in Spain
Baiba in Mauritania Tin-
gitana
Berytus in Phoenicia
Bilbilis in Spain
Bostra in Arabia
Bracara Augusta in Spain
Buthrotum in Epirus
Cabellio in Gaul
Cresar-Augusta in Spain
C ccs are a in Palestine
Calagurris
h ,evia_ Calagurris in Spain
ms, Calpe in Spain
w y"-"-'Carnalodunum in Britain
Carrhse in Mesopotamia
Carteia in Spain
Carthago in Africa
Carthago Nova in Spain
Cascantnm in Spain
Cassandria in Macedon
Celsa in Spain
Clunia in Spain
Coillu in Numidia
Comana in Cappadocia
Corinthus in Greece
Cremna in Pisidia
Culla in Thrace
Damascus in Coelesyria
Dertosa in Spain
Deulton in Thrace
Dium in Macedon
Ebora in Spain
Edcssa in Mesopotamia
Emerita in Spain
Emesa in Phoenicia
Ergavica in Spain
Germe in Galatia
Graccuris in Spain
Hadrumetum in Africa
Heliopolis in Coelesyi-ia
Hippo Regius in Africa
Iconium in Lycaonia
Ilerda in Spain
Ulergavonia in Spain
lileci in Spain
lol i i Mauritania
Italica in Spain
Ladia in Spain
Laodicea in Syria
Lcptis in Africa
Lugdunum in Gaul
Neapolis in Palestine
MED
Nemausus in Gaul
Nesibis in Mesopotamia
Norba Caesarea in Mauri¬
tania
Obulco in Spain
Oea in Africa
Olba in Pamphylia
Osca in Spain
Osicarda in Spain
Panormus in Sicily
Parium in Mysia
Parlais in Lycaonia
Patricia (Corduba) in
Spain
Pella in Macedon
Philippi in Macedon
Philippopolis in Arabia
Ptolemais in Phoenicia
Rhesama in Mesopotamia
Romula (Hispalis) in
Spain
Ruscino in Gaul
Sabaria in Hungary
Saguntum in Spain
Sebaste in Palestine
Segobriga in Spain
Sidon in Phoenicia
Singara in Mesopotamia
Sinope in Pontus
Stobi in Macedon
Tarraco in Spain
Thessalonica in Maced on
Traducta (Julia) in Spain
Troas in Phrygia
Turiaso in Spain
Tyana in Cappadocia
Tyrus in Phoenicia
Valentia in Spain
\ ienna in Gaul
Viminacium in Moesia
Utiea in Africa
Abbreviations on Colonial Coins.
acc1!. Accitana Colonia, Gtiadix in Spain
adi. Adjutrix legio
ael. mvn. cokl. Hldium Municipium Coela, jrear Ses-
tos on the Hellespont
AST. Astigitana, Eceja in Andalusia
B. A. Braccara August!, Brague in Portugal
<'• A. Caesarea Antiochiae
a. a. p. or path. Colonia Augusta Aroe Patrensis
'AB. Cabellio
c. a. bvt. Colonia August! Buthrotumr in Epirus
c. A. c. Colonia Augusta Caesarea
c. a. i. Colonia Augusta Julia, Cadi%
(> A. E. Colonia Aug. Emerita, Merida
cal. Calagurris, Calahoi'ra in Spain
c. A. o. a. ¥. Colonia Antoniana Oea Aug. Felix, Tri¬
poli in Africa
A L S. j
c. A. pi. met. sid. Colonia Amelia Pia Metropolis Abbrevia
Sldon . lions. '
c. a. r. Colonia Augusta Rauracorum, or Colonia Asta' """v—
Regia : Angst in Switzerland, or Ast near Xeres
de la Frontera in Spain
c. c. a. Colonia Caesarea Augusta, Saragossa in Spain
c. c. col. lug. Claudia Copia Colonia Lugdunensis
c. c. 1. b. Colonia Campestris Julia Baiba, in Mauri¬
tania
c. c. 1. b. D. D. Colonia Campestris Julia Baiba, De-
creto Decurionum
c. c. I. h. p. a. Colonia Concordia Julia Hadrumetina,
Pia Augusta
c. civ. D. D. p. Corona Civica data Decreto Publico
c. c. N. A. Colonia Carthago Nova Augusta
c. c. n. c. d. D. Colonia Concordia, Norba Caesareana,
Decreto Decurionum
C. cor. Colonia Corinthus
c. c. T. Ducentesima Remissa
C. c. s. Colonia Claudia Sabaria, in Hungary
c. F. p. D. Colonia Flavia Pacensis Develtum, Devel-
tum in Thrace
c. G. 1. h. p. a. Colonia Gemella Julia Hadriana, Pa¬
ri an a, Augusta
c. 1. c. A. Colonia Julia Concordia, Apamea
c. I. A. D. Colonia Julia Augusta Dertona, Tortona
near Milan
C. I. av. Colonia Julia Aug. Cadix
C. I. AVG. F. sin. Colonia Julia Augusta Felix Sinope
c. I. B. Colonia Julia Baiba, in Mauritania
c. I. c. a. p. a. Colonia Julia Carthago Augusta Pi a
Antiqua, or Corinth, or Carthago Nova
c. 1. cal. Colonia Julia Calpe, Gibraltar
C. I. F. Colonia Julia Felix, Cadm
c. 1. G. A. Colonia Julia Gemella (c) Augusta
c. I. I. A. Colonia Immunis Illici Augusta, Elche in
Spain
C. I. N. C. Colonia Julia Norha Caesareana, or Alcan¬
tara : sometimes it means Col. Julia Nova Carthago
C. I. v. Golonia Julia Valentia, Valencia in Spain.
C. v. T. Colonia Victrxx Tarraco
c. L. I. COR. Colonia Laus Julia Corinthus
e. L. 1. N. avg. Colonia Laus Julia Nova Augusta,
Lavs or Lodi in Lucania
c. M. L. Colonia Metropolis Laodicea, in Ccdesyria
CO. DAM. METRO. Colonia Damascus Metropolis
cohh. pret. vii. p. vi. F. Cohortes PnetorianEe Sep-
timum Pile, Sextum Felices
COH. 1. cr. Cohors prima Cretensis
con. pret. PHIL. Cohors Proetoriana Philippensium
COL. AEL. A. H. MET. Colonia Hllia Augusta Hadru¬
metina Metropolis, in Africa
col. ael. cap. comm. p. f. Colonia iElia Capitolina
Gommodiana Pia Felix
col. alex troas. Colonia Alexandriana Troas
COL. amas. or ams. Colonia Amastriana, in Paphlagonia
COL. ANT. Antioch in Pisidia
col. arelat. sextan. Colonia Arelate Sextanorum,
Arles
COL. AST. AVG. Colonia Astingitana Augusta, Eceja
in Spain
COL,
(c) Gemella implies a colony drawn from two others.
18+ MED
Abbrevia- COL. AVG. FEL. BED. Coloftia Augusta Felix Berytus
tions. COL. AVG. FIR. Colonia Aug. Firma, Eceja .
’■“■“"V—COL. AVG. IVL. PHILIP. Colonia Augusta Julia Philip-
pensis
COL. AVG. PAT. TREVIR. Colonia Augusta Patema
Trevirorum, Treves in Germany, sentfrom Paternum
in Italy
COL. AVR. KAR. COMM. P. F. Colonia Aurelia Karrlise
Commodiana Pia Felix, or Carneatum Commagene,
or Carrhce in Asia
col. B. A. Colonia Braccara Augusta, Prague
col. BRYT. L. V. Colonia Berytus Legio Quinta
col. case. Colonia Cabellio
col. caes. AVG. Colonia Caesarea Augusta, in Palestine
col. CAMALODVN. Colonia Camalodunum, England
col. casilin. Colonia Casilinum, Castellano in Italy
col. CL. ptol. Colonia Claudia Ptolemais, Acre in
Phoenicia
col. damas. metro. Celonia Damascus Metropolis
col. F. I. A. P. barcin. Colonia Flavia Julia Augusta
Pia, Barcino or Barcelona
COL. FL. pac.devlt. Colonia Flavia Pacensis Deultum,
Develtum in Thrace
COL. ha. ME. T. Colonia Hadriana Mercurialis Thse-
nitana, Mercuriali, Fermo in Italy and Thenes in
Africa
COL. H. (or hel.) LEG. H. Colonia Heliopolis Legio
Heliopolitana
COL. hel. i. o. M. H. Colonia Heliopolis Jovi Optimo
Maximo Heliopolitano
COL. IVL. avg. c. I. F. coman. Colonia Julia Augusta
Concordia Invicta Felix Comanorum, drawn from
Concordia in Italy, and sent to Comana in Cappadocia
COL. IVL. AVG. FEL. cremna. Colonia Julia Augusta
Felix Cremna, in Pamphylla
COL. IVL. CER. SAC. AVG. FEL. CAP. OECVM. ISE. HEL.
Colonia Julia Certamen Sacrum Augustum Felix
Capitolenum Oecumenicum Iselasticum Heliopolita-
num
COL. IVL. CONC. APAM. AVG. D. D. Colonia Julia Con¬
cordia Apamea Augusta Decreto Decurionum
COL. IVL. PATER. NAR. Colonia Julia Paterna Narbo-
nensis
COL. NEM. Colonia Nemausus
col. niceph. cond. Colonia Nicepborium Condita, in
Mesopotamia
COL. patr. Colonia Patrensis or Patricia, Patras in
Greece, or Cordova in Spain
COL. p. f. avg. f. CAES. met. Colonia Prima Flavia
Aug. Felix Caesarea Metropolis, in Palestine
COL. P. fl. avg. caes. metrop. P. s. p. same as above,
P. s. P. is Provinciae Syriae Palestinae
col. PR. F. a. caesar. Colonia Prima Flavia Augusta
Caesarea, in Palestine.
COL. R. F. AVG. fl. c. metrop. Colonia Bomana Felix
Aug. Flavia Caesarea Metropolis. The same
COL. ROM. Colonia Romulea, or Seville
col. ROM. lvg. Colonia Roinana Lugdunum
col. rvs. LEG. Vi. Colonia Ruscino Legio Sexta,
Rousillon in France
col. sabar, Colonia Saburiae
col. sabas. Sebaste, in Palestine
col. ser. g. neapol. Colonia Servii Galbae Neapolis,
in Palestine
A L S.
COL. V. I. CELSA, or COR. VIC. IVL. CELSA. Colonia
Victrix Julia Celsa, Kelso, in Spain,
COL. Vic. IVL. LEP. Colonia Victrix Julia Leptis,
in Africa
COL. vim. an. I. or II. &c. Colonia % iminacium Anno
primo, Widin in Servia
COL. vlp. TRA. Colonia Ulpia Trajana : Kellcn, or
Warhalin Transylvania
CO. P. F. coe. metro. Colonia Prima Flavia Caesarea
Expbnj
lion of
Metropolis
co. p. i. a. Colonia Pacensis Julia Augusta, or Col.
Oetaviana
C. R. i. F. s. Colonia Romana Julia Felix Sinope
c. T. T. Colonia Togata Tarraco
c. v. il. Colonia V ictrix lllice, Elche in Spain
D. Decuriones
d. c. a. Divus. Caes. Aug.
DERT. Dertosa
gen. col. ner. patr. Genio Coloniee Neronianae Pa¬
trensis
G. L. s. Genio Loci Sacrum
m. a.illergavonia dyrt. MunicipiumHiberiaIller-
gavonia Dertosa, Tortosa in Catalonia
m. m. I. v. Municipes Municipii Julii Uticensis
M. R. Municipium Ravennatium
MVN. CAL. IVL. Municipium Calagurris Julia, in Spain
MVN. CLVN. Municipium Clunia, Corunna in Spain
MVN. fane, ael, Municipium Fanestre Aelium, Fam
MVN. stob. Municipium Stobense, St obi in Macedon
MV. tv. Municipium Turiaso, in Spain
N. tr. ALEXANDRIANAE col. bostr. Nerviae Trajanae
Alexandrianae Colonise Bostrae, in Palestine
SEP. col. lavd. Septimia Colonia Laudicea or Lao-
dicea
SEP. tyr, met. Septima Tyrus Metropolis.
Explanation of the Plates.
Phi
Fig. i. A Persian daric cccn
2. A drachm of Egina am'
3. A silver hemidrachm of Alexander the Great ctcxX
4. Tigranes the younger of Armenia, 'with his
sister
5. One of the coins of the Arsacidae of Parthia
6. A coin of the Sassanidse of Persia. Fii'st pub¬
lished by Mr Pinkerton
7. Denarius of Cneius Pompey from Mr Pinker¬
ton. Reverse represents him as received by Spam
8. A brass coin of Cunobelinus
9. Pespennius Niger. Struck at Antioch} u-
nique. In Dr Hunter’s cabinet; published by
Mr Pinkerton
10. A silver coin of Carausius
11. Reverse of Claudius in first brass
12. Reverse of Adrian
13. Of Antoninus Pius
14. Of Commodus
15. Of Severus
16. A Saxon penny
17. A Saxon styca
18. 19. Ancient pennies, supposed to be Scottish
20. A penny of William of Scotland
21. A penny of Robert the Great
22. An Irish penny
4
23. The
AAAAftAA.nrr A T\
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B g £ £ d
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D(\pX)^r^}p>
£ £ E £ £ & & ^
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H h.H.H.
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b.l L -L>
M./VY. n • i-H• . HP. m. rn.
\Vi.S0.w. u\. h. u .
N". |j. M . H • vv . n . 11 .
R. R./^ A}- ^ '
^ ^—o . . ^ • Z> • E • ^
T. T.T.
V.'U'.Y.II.M-.U./*
W . w. P • YY. b • ^
y . y. f.'t '?'-
CR.CR .
i>K./a .
HE.tE .
MAE .Nt E. .
-Ho. 5 •vcY
28.
K\jsa • v< .
T/\ . H
THD.^-0-trpIT-
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T H B • B •
29-
NG-hG .
•NVM . NP •
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A’Ali/c/u/i Sru/fi'
MED
ana- 23. The gold penny of Henry III.
1 of 24. The large noble of the first coinage of Edward
tcs. HI.
' 2$. The gold medal of David II. of Scotland
A L S. 185
26. The ryal of -Qocen Mary of Scotland
27- Tetters on Anglo-Saxon coins thm of
28. Abbreviations on ditto ,
29. Monetarius v~
MED
kls Impressions of Medals. See Casting.
MEDALLION, or Medalion, a medal of an ex-
lea. traordinary sixe, supposed to be anciently struck by the
emperors for their friends, and for foreign princes and
ambassadors. But, that the smallness of their number
-might not endanger the loss of the devices they bore,
the Romans generally took care to stamp the subject of
them upon their ordinary coins.
Medallions, in respect of the other coins, were the
same as modern medals in respect of modern money :
they were exempted from all commerce, and had no
other value than what was set upon them by the fancy
of the owner. Medallions are so scarce, that there
.cannot be any set made of tliem, even though the me¬
tals and sizes should be mixed promiscuously.
MEDEA, in fabulous history, a celebrated sorceress,
daughter of vEetes king of Colchis. Her mother’s
name, according to the more received opinion of He¬
siod and Hyginus, was Idyia, or, according to others,
Ephyre, Hecate, Asterodia, Antiope, and Nesera. She
was the niece of Circe. A\ hen Jason came to Colchis
in quest of the golden fleece, Medea became enamoured
of him, and it was to her well directed labours that
the Argonauts owed their preservation. Medea had
an interview with her lover in the temple of Hecate j
where they bound themselves by the most solemn oaths
to eternal fidelity". No sootier had Jason overcome all
the difficulties which TLetes had placed in his way,
than Medea embarked with the conquerors for Greece.
To stop the pursuit of her father, she tore to pieces
her brother Absyrtus, and left his mangled limbs in
the way through which iEetes -was to pass. This
act of barbarity, some have attributed to Jason, and
not to her. When Jason reached lolchos his native
country, the return and victories of the Argonauts
were celebrated with universal rejoicings : but jEson
the father of Jason was unable to assist at the solemni¬
ty on account of the infirmities of his age. Medea,
at her husband’s request, removed the weakness of
Tlson ; and by drawing aivay the blood from his veins,
and filling them again with the juice of certain herbs,
she restored him to the vigour and sprightliness of
youth. This sudden change in vEson astonished the
inhabitants of lolchos; and the daughters of Pelias
were also desirous to see their father restored by the
same power to the vigour of youth. Medea, willing
to revenge the injuries which her husband’s family
had suffered from Pelias, increased their curiosity ;
and betrayed them into the murder of their father
as preparatory to his rejuvenescence, which she after¬
wards refused to accomplish. This action greatly irri¬
tated the people of lolchos ; and Medea with her hus-
hand fled to Corinth to avoid their resentment. Here
they lived for 10 years with mutual attachment, wdien
the love of Jason for Glauce the king’s daughter in-
Vol. XIII. Part I. t
MED
terrupted their harmony, and Medea was divorced. Medea
Medea revenged the infidelity of Jason, by causing 11.
the death of Glauce, and the destruction of her fami* ,
ly. She also killed two of her children in their fa¬
ther’s presence; and when Jason attempted to punish
the barbarity of the mother, she fled through the air
upon a chariot drawn by winged dragons. From Co¬
rinth Medea came to Athens, where, after sire had un¬
dergone the necessary purification of her murder, she
married King /Egeus, or (according to others) lived
in an adulterous manner with him. From her conduct
with iEgeus, Medea had a son who was called Mcdus.
Soon after, when Theseus wished to make himself
known to his father, Medea, jealous of his fame and
fearful of his power, attempted to poison him at a
feast which had been prepared for his entertainment.
Her attempts, however, failed of success, and the sight
of the swrord which Theseus wore by his side convin¬
ced ^Egeus that the stranger against whose life he had
so basely conspired wras his own son. The father and
the son were reconciled; and Medea, to avoid the
punishment which her wickedness deserved, mount¬
ed her fiery chanot and disappeared through the air.
She came to Colchis ; where, according to some, she
was reconciled to Jason, who had sought her in her na¬
tive country after her sudden departure from Corinth.
She died at Colchis, as Justin mentions, when she had
been restored to the confidence of her family. After
death she married Achilles in the Elysian fields, ac¬
cording to the tradition mentioned by Simonides.
The murder of Mermerus and Pheres, the youngest of
Jason’s children by Medea, is not to be attributed to
the mother, according to Elian; hut to the Corin¬
thians, who assassinated them in the temple of Juno
Acrsea. To avoid the resentment of the gods, and
to deliver themselves from the pestilence which visited
their country after so horrid a massacre, they engaged
the poet Euripides for five talents to write a tragedy,
which cleared them of the murder, and represented
Medea as the cruel assassin of her owrn children. And
besides, that this opinion might be the better credited,
festivals were appointed, in which the mother was re¬
presented with ail the barbarity of a fury murdering
her owm sons.
MEDEOLA, Climbing African Asparagus,
a genus of plants belonging to the hexandria class, and
in the natural method ranking under the nth order,
Sarmentacece. See Botany Index.
MEDIA, now the province of Ghilan in Persia,
once the seat of a potent empire, was bounded, ac- *
cording to Ptolemy, on the north by part of the Cas- •
pian sea ; on the south by Persia, Susiana, and Assyria ;
on the east by Parthia and Hyrcania ; and on the west
by Armenia Major. It was anciently divided into se¬
veral provinces, viz. Tropatene, Charomithrene, Da-
A a rites*
MED [ 186 ] MED
rites, Mareiane, Amariace, and Syro Media. By* a
later division, however, all these were reduced to two;
the one called Media Magna, the other Media Atro-
patia, or simply Jtropatene. Media Magna was bound¬
ed by Persis, Parthia, Hyrcania, the Hyrcanian sea,
and Atropatene, and contained the cities ot Ecbatan,
Eaodicea, Apamea, Raga, Rageia or Ragea, &c.
Atropatene lay between the Caspian mountains and the
Caspian sea.
This country originally took its name from Madai,
the third son of Japhet} as is plain from Scripture,
where the Medes are constantly called Madai. Among
profane authors, some derive the name Media, from
one Medus the son of Jason and Medea} others from
a city called Media. Sextus Rufus tells us that in his
time it was called Medena, and from others we learn
that it was also called Aria. The most probable history
of the Medes is as follows :
This people lived in subjection to the Assyrians till
the reign of Sennacherib, when they threw olt the yoke,
and lived for some time in a state of anarchy. But at
last, rapine and violence, the natural consequences of
such a situation, prevailed so much, that they were con¬
strained to have recourse to some kind of government,
that they might be enabled to live in safety. Accord¬
ingly, about 699 B. C. one Dejoces having procured
himself to be chosen king, united the scattei’ed tribes
into which the Medes were at that time divided } and
having applied himself as much as possible to the civili¬
zation of his barbarous subjects, left the throne to his
son Phraortes, after a reign of 53 years.
The new king, who was of a warlike and enterpri¬
sing disposition, subdued almost all the Upper Asia ly¬
ing between Mount Taurus and the river Halys which
runs through Cappadocia into the Euxine sea. Elated
with this good success, he invaded Assyria, the empire
of which was now much declined, and greatly weaken¬
ed by the revolt of many nations which had followed
the example of the Medes. Nebuchadonosor or Chy-
niladan, however, the reigning prince, having assem-
>4ed what forces he could, engaged Phraortes, defeated,
took him prisoner, and put him to death after which,
entering Media, he laid waste the country, took the
metropolis of Ecbatan itself, and levelled it with the
ground.
On the death of Phraortes, his son Cyaxares was
placed on the throne. He was no less valiant and enter¬
prising than his father, and had better success against
the Assyrians. With the remains of that army which
had been defeated under his father, he not only drove
the conquerors out of Media, but obliged Chyniladan
tq shut himseff up in Nineveh. To this place he im¬
mediately laid close seige ; but was obliged: to give over
the enterprise on account of an irruption of the Scy¬
thians into his own country. Cyaxares engaged these
new enemies with great resolution ; but was utterly
defeated} and the conquerors overran not only all Me¬
dia, but the greatest part of Upper Asia, extending
their conquests into Syria, and as far aa the confines of
Egypt. They continucd.masters.of all this vast tract of.
country for 28 years, till at last Media was delivered jjt
from their yoke by a general massacre at the instigation ||
of Cyaxares. ^h-dii
After this deliverance, the Medes soon repossessed , Sl)ri:
themselves of the territories they had lost j and once
more extended their frontiers to the river Halys, their
ancient boundary to the westward. After this wre find
the Medes engaged in a w7ar with the Lydians 5 which,
however, ended without any remarkable transaction :
hut on the conclusion of it, Cyaxares having entered
into a strict alliance with Nebuchadnezzar king of Ba¬
bylon, returned in conjunction with the Babylonians
before Nineveh: which they took and levelled with
the ground, putting most of the inhabitants to the
sword.
After this victory the Babylonian and Median em¬
pires seem to have been united : however, after the
death oT Nebuchadnezzar, or rather in his lifetime,
a war ensued, which was not extinguished but by th©
dissolution of the Babylonian empire. The Medes, un¬
der Astyages the son of Cyaxares I. withstood the
power of the Babylonian monarchs: and under Cyrus
and Cyaxares II. utterly destroyed their empire by the
taking of Babylon, as is related under that article.
After the death of Cyaxares, the kingdom fell to Cy¬
rus, by whom the seat of the empire was transferred to
Persia, under which article the history of Media now
falls to be considered, as also the manners, &c. of the
inhabitants.
MEDIAN A, the name of a vein or little vessel,
made by the union of the cephalic and basilic, in the
bend of the elbow.
MEDIASTINUM, in Anatomy, a double mem¬
brane, formed by a duplicature of the pleura 5 serving
to divide the thorax and the lungs into two parts, and
to sustain the viscera, and prevent' their falling from
one side of the thorax to the other. See Anatomy,
N° 117.
MEDIATE, or Intermediate, something that
stands betwixt and connects two or more terms consi¬
dered as extremes ; in which sense it stands opposed to
immediate.
MEDIATOR, a person that manages or transacts
between two parties at variance, in order to reconcile
them. The word, in Scripture, is applied, 1. To Jesus
Christ, who is the only intercessor and peace-maker
between God and man, (1 Tim. ii. 5.) 2. To Moses,
who interposed between the Lord and his people, to de¬
clare unto them his wmrd ; (Dent. v. 5. iii. 19.).
MEDICAGO, Snail Trefoil, a genus of plants
belonging to the diadelphia class, and in the natural
method ranking under the 32d order, Papilionaccce.
See Botany Index. For the properties and culture
of Lucern, a species of this genus, see Agriculture
Index.
MEDICINAL, any thing belonging to medicine.
Mxvicin.il Springs, a general name for any foun-
tain, the waters, of which are of use for removing cer¬
tain disorders. They are commonly either chalybeate
ox. sulphureous. See Springs and Water.
MEDICINE;
[ i8? 3
MEDICINE.
Dt tioa. Tl TEDICINE is tlie art of preventing, curing, or
H J-’J- alleviating, those diseases to which the human
species are subjected.
History of Medicine.
Or i of The fabulous history of the ancients derives this art
jne ine immediately from their gods } and, even among the
am jthc nl0(}ernS) some are of opinion tlsat it may justly be con-
sidered as of divine revelation. But without adopting
any supposition of which no probable-evidence can be
given, we may conclude, that mankind were naturally
led to it from casual observation on the diseases to which
they found themselves subjected ; and that therefore,
to a certain degree at least, it is as ancient as the hu¬
man race. But at what period it began to be practised
as an art, by particular individuals following it as a
profession, is* not known. The most ancient physicians
we read of were those wdio embalmed the patriarch
Jacob by order of his son Joseph. The sacred writer
styles these physicians serva7its to Joseph: whence
we may be assured that they were not priests, as the
first physicians are generally supposed to have been;
for in that age we know the Egyptian priests were in
such high favour, that they retained their liberty, when,
through a public calamity, all the rest of the people
were made slaves to the prince.
It is not probable, therefore, that among the Egyp¬
tians religion and medicine were originally conjoined ;
and if we suppose the Jews not to have invented the art,
but received it from some other nation, it is as little
probable that the priests of that nation were their phy¬
sicians as those of Egypt.
That the Jewish physicians were absolutely distinct
from their priests is very certain. Yet as the Jew's
resided for such a long time in Egypt, it is probable
they would retain many of the Egyptian customs,
from which it would be very difficult to free them.
We read, however, that when King Asa was diseased
in his feet, “ he sought not to the Lord, but to the
physicians.” Hence w'e may conclude, that among
the Jews the medical art was looked upon as a mere
human invention 5 and it was thought that the Deity
never cured diseases by making people acquainted with
the virtues of this or that herb, but only by his mira¬
culous power. That the same opinion prevailed among
the nations who were neighbours to the Jew's, is also
probable from Avhat wre read of Ahaziah king of Judah,
who having sent messengers to inquire of Baalzebub
god of Ekron concerning his disease, he did not desire
any remedy from him or his priests, but simply to know
whether he should recover or not.
What seems most probable on this subject therefore
is, that religion and medicine came to be mixed toge¬
ther only in consequence of that degeneracy into ig¬
norance and superstition which took place among all
nations. The Egyptians, we know', came at last to
be sunk in the most ridiculous and absurd superstition;
and then, indeed, it is net wonderful that we should
find their priests commencing physicians, and mingliug Origin of
charms, incantations, &c. with their remedies. That Medicine.^
this was the case, long after the days of Joseph, we aro v
very certain ; and indeed it seems as natural for igno¬
rance and barbarism to combine religion with physiq,
as it is for a civilized and enlightened people to keqp
them separate. Hence we see, that among all modarn
barbarians their priests or conjurors are their only phy¬
sicians. 2
We are so little acquainted with the state of physic amonff the
among the Egyptians, that it is needless to say much
concerning them. They attributed the invention of
medicine, as they did also that of many other arts, t*
Thoth, the Hermes or Mercury of the Greeks. He
is said to have written many things in hieroglyphic
characters upon certain pillars, in order to perpetuate
his knowledge, and render it useful to othei’s. These
were transcribed by Agathoderaon, or the second Mer¬
cury, the father of Tat, who is said to have composed
books of them, that were kept in the most sacred placeo
of the Egyptian temples. The existence of such a
person, however, is very doubtful, and many of the
books ascribed to him were accounted forgeries as long
ago as the days of Galen ; there is also great reason to
suspect that those books were written many ages after
Hermes, and when physic had made considerable ad¬
vances. Many of the hooks attributed to him are tri¬
fling and ridiculous *, and though sometimes he is allow¬
ed to have all the honour of inventing the art, he is on
other occasions obliged to share it with Osiris, Jsis, and
Apis or Serapis.
After all, the Egyptian physic appears to have been
little else than a collection of absurd superstitions. Ori-
gen informs us, that they believed there were 36 de¬
mons, or gods of the air, who divided the human body
among them •, that they had names for each of them j
and that by invoking them according to the part affect¬
ed, the patient was cured. Of natural medicines we
hear none recommended by the father of Egyptian phy¬
sic ; except the herb mohj, which he gave to Ulysses in
order to secure him from the enchantments of Circe j
and the herb mercury, of which he first discovered the
use. His successors made use of venesection, cathartics,
emetics, and clysters. There is no proof, however, that
this practice was established by Hermes ; on the con¬
trary, the Egyptians themselves pretended that the
first hint of those remedies was taken from some ob¬
servations on brute animals. Venesection was taught
them by the hippopotamus, which is said to perform
this operation upon itself. On certain occasions, he
comes out of the river, and strikes his leg against a.
sharp-pointed reed. As he takes care to direct the
stroke against a vein, the consequence must be a con¬
siderable effusion of blood j and this being suffered to
run as long as the creature thinks proper, he at last
stops up the orifice with mud. The hint of clysters
was taken from the ibis, a bird width is said to give
itself clysters with its bill, &c. They used venesection,
however, but very little, probably on account of the
A a 2 warmth
M E D I
Origin of Warmth of the climate *, and the exhibition of the re-
Medicine medics above mentioned, joined with abstinence, tormec
'““■"V—-J the most t^e^r pi‘actice-
3' The Greeks too had several persons to whom they
Greeks ^ attributed the invention of physic, particularly Pro¬
metheus, Apollo or Paean, and iEsculapius j winch
last was the most celebrated of any. But here we must
. observe, that as the Greeks were a very warlike people,
their physic seems to have been little else than what
is now called surgery, or the cure of wounds, frac¬
tures, &c. Hence iEsculapius, and his pupils Chi¬
ron, Machaon, and Podalirius, are celebrated by Ho¬
mer only for their skill in curing these, without any
mention of their'attempting the cures ol internal dis¬
eases. We are hot, however, to suppose that they
confined themselves entirely to surgery. 1 hey no
doubt would occasionally prescribe for internal disor¬
ders j but as they were most frequently conversant with
wounds, we may naturally suppose the greatest pait of
their skill to have consisted in knowing how to cure
these. If we may believe the poets, indeed, the know¬
ledge of medicine seems to have been very generally
diffused. Almost all the heroes of antiquity are re¬
ported to have been physicians as well as warriors.
Most of them were taught physic by the centaur Chi¬
ron. From him Hercules received instructions in the
medicinal art, in which he is said to have been no less
expert than in feats of arms. Several plants were call¬
ed by his name 5 from which some think it probable
that he found out their virtues, though others are of
opinion that they bore the name of this renowned hero
on account of their great efficacy in removing diseases.
Aristaeus king of Arcadia was also one of Chiron’s
scholars j and is supposed to have discovered the use of
the drug called silphium, by some thought to be asa-
foetida. Theseus, Telamon, Jason, Peleus, and his son
Achilles, were all renowned for their knowledge in the
art of physic. The last is said to have discovered the
use of verdegrise in cleansing foul ulcers. All of them,
however, seem to have been inferior in knowledge to
Palamedes, who hindered the plague from coming into
the Grecian camp after it had ravaged most of the cities
of the Hellespont, and even Troy itself. His method
was to confine his soldiers to a spare diet, and to oblige
them to use much exercise.
The practice of these ancient Greek physicians, not¬
withstanding the praises bestowed on them by their
poets seems to have been very limited, and in some
cases even pernicious. All the external remedies ap¬
plied to Homer’s wounded heroes were fomentations ;
, while inwardly their physicians gave them wine, some¬
times mingled with cheese scraped down. A great deal
of their physic also consisted of charms, incantations,
amulets, &c. of which, as they are common to all su¬
perstitious and ignorant nations, it is superfluous to
take any farther notice.
In this way the art of medicine continued among
the Greeks for many ages. As its first professors knew
nothing of the animal economy, and as little of the
theory of diseases, it is plain, that whatever they did
must have been in consequence of mere random trials,
or empiricism, hi the strict and proper sense of the
woi*d. Indeed, it is evidently impossible that this or
almost any other art could originate from another
source than trials of this kind. Accordingly, we find,
CINE. Hist™
that some ancient nations were accustomed to expose Hipp,
their sick in temples, and by the sides of highways, mte
that they might receive the advice of every one who v*
passed. Among the Greeks, however, Ascukpius ^
was reckoned the most eminent practitioner of Ins time,pius.
and his name continued to be revered after his death.
He was ranked among the gods j and the piincipal
knowledge of the medical art remained with his family
to the time of Hippocrates, who reckoned himself the
seventeenth in a lineal descent from iEsculapius, and
who was truly the first who treated of medicine in a re¬
gular and rational manner. 5
Hippocrates, who is supposed to have lived 400 Hippo,
years before the birth of Christ, is the most ancientcrate
author whose writings expressly on the subject of the
medical art are preserved j anil he is therefore justly
considered as the father of physic. All the accounts
which we have prior to this time, if not evidently fa¬
bulous, are at the utmost highly conjeaural. Even
the medical knowledge of Pythagoras, so much cele¬
brated as a philosopher, can hardly be considered as
resting on any other foundation. But from the time
of Hippocrates, medicine, separated from philosophy
and religion, seems to have assumed the form of a sci¬
ence, and to have been practised as a profession. It
may not, therefore, be improper, to give a particular
account of the state of medical science, as transmit¬
ted to us in his writings. The writings of Hippo¬
crates, however, it may be remarked, are even more
than preserved. Many things have been represented as
written by Hippocrates which are probably spurious.
Nor is it wonderful that attempts should have been 6
made to increase the value of manuscripts, by attribut- His w
ing them to a name of such eminence. But although h'gs-
what are transmitted to us under the title of his works
may have been written by different hands, yet the pre¬
sumption is, that most, if not all of them, are of nearly
as early a date, and contain the prevailing opinions of
those times.
According to the most authentic accounts, Hippo¬
crates was a native of the island of Cos, and born in
the beginning of the 88th Olympiad. In the writings
transmitted to us as his, we find a general principle
adopted, to which he gives the name of Nature, 'lo
this principle he ascribes a mighty power. “ Nature
(says he) is of itself sufficient to every animal. She
performs every thing that is necessary to them, with¬
out needing the least instruction from any one how to
do it.” Upon this footing, as if Nature had been a
principle endowed with knowledge, he gives her the
title of just: and ascribes virtues or powers to her,
which are her servants, and by means of which she
performs all her operations in the bodies of animals j
and distributes the blood, spirits, and heat, through
all parts of the body, which by these means receive life
and sensation. And in other places he tells us, that it
is this faculty which gives nourishment, preservation,
and growth, to all things.
The manner in which Nature acts, or commands her His i ‘
subservient power to act, is by attracting what isnutui
good and agreeable to each species, and by retaining,
preparing, and changing it j and on the other side in
rejecting whatever is superfluous or hurtful, after she has
separated it from the good. This is the foundation of
the doctrine of depuration, concoction, and crisis in
fevers,
ppo-
tUs
ca ■
lli: >'
E-
9
II livi
Ml Of
di ses,
t t..n. MED I
fevers, so much insisted on by Hippocrates and many
other physicians. He supposes also, that every thing
1 has an inclination to be joined to what agrees with it,
and to remove from every thing contrary to it; and
likewise that there is an affinity between the several
parts of the body, by which they mutually sympathize
with each other. When he comes to explain what this
principle called nature is, he is obliged to resolve it in¬
to heat, which, he says, appears to have something im¬
mortal in it.
As far as he attempts to explain the causes of dis¬
ease, he refers much to the humours of the body, parti¬
cularly to the blood and the bile. He treats also of
the effects of sleep, watchings, exercise, and rest, and
all the benefit or mischief we may receive from them.
Of all the causes of diseases, however, mentioned by
Hippocrates, the most general are diet and air. On
the subject of diet he has composed several books, and
in the choice of this he was exactly careful ; and the
more so, as his practice turned almost wholly upon it.
He also considered the air very much •, he examined
what winds blewr ordinarily or extraordinarily *, he con¬
sidered the irregularity of the seasons, the rising and
setting of stars, or the time of certain constellations •,
also the time of the solstices, and of the equinoxes ;
those days, in his opinion, producing great alterations
in certain distempers.
He does not, however, pretend to explain how,
from these causes, that variety of distempers arises
which is daily to be observed. All that can be gather¬
ed from him with regard to this is, that the different
causes above mentioned, when applied to the different
parts of the body, produce a great variety of distem¬
pers. Some of these distempers he accounted mortal,
others dangerous, and the rest easily curable, according
to the cause from whence they spring, and the parts
on which they fall. In several places also he distin¬
guishes diseases, from the time of their duration, into
acute or short, and chronical or long. He likewise di¬
stinguishes diseases by the particular places where they
prevail, whether ordinary or extraordinary. The first,
that is, those that are frequent and familiar to certain
places, he called endemic diseases j and the latter,
which raged extraordinarily, sometimes in one place,
sometimes in another, which seized great numbers at
certain times, he called epidemic, that is, popidar dis¬
eases : and of this kind the most terrible is the plague.
He likewise mentions a third kind, the opposite of
the former *, and these he calls sporadic, or straggling
diseases: these last include all the different sorts of dis¬
tempers which invade at any one season, which are
sometimes of one sort, and sometimes of another. He
distinguished between those diseases which are heredi¬
tary, or born with us, and those which are contracted
afterwards j and likewise between those of a kindly and
those of a malignant nature, the former of which are
easily and frequently cured, but the latter give the phy¬
sicians a great deal of trouble, and are seldom overcome
by all their care.
Hippocrates remarked four stages in distempers •,
viz. the beginning of the disease, its augmentation, its
state or height, and its declination. In such diseases
as terminate fatally, death comes in place of the decli¬
nation. In the third stage, therefore, the change is
roost considerable, as it determines the fate of the sick
CINE.
189
Hippo¬
crates.
person ; and this is most comrnbnly done by means of a
crisis. By this w ord he understood any sudden change
in sickness, whether for the better or for the worse, 1 ~
whether health or death succeed immediately. Such a
change, he says, is made at that time by nature, either
absolving or condemning the patient. Hence we may
conclude, that Hippocrates imagined diseases to be on¬
ly a disturbance of the animal economy, with which
Nature was perpetually at variance, and using her ut¬
most endeavours to expel the offending cause. Her
manner of acting on these occasions is to reduce to their
natural state those humours whose discord occasions the
disturbance of the whole body, whether in relation to
their quantity, quality, mixture, motion, or any other
way in which they become offensive. The principal
means employed by nature for this end is what Hippo- . IO,
crates calls concoction. By this he understood the “Pj^00,
bringing the morbific matter lodged in the humours to
such a state, as to be easily fitted for expulsion by what¬
ever means nature may think most proper. When
matters are brought to this pass, whatever is super¬
fluous or hurtful immediately empties itself, or nature
points out to physicians the way by which such an eva¬
cuation is to be accomplished. The crisis takes place
either by bleeding, stool, vomit, sweat, urine, tumoi'S or
abscesses, scabs, pimples, spots, &c. But these evacua¬
tions are not to be looked upon as the effects of a true
crisis, unless they are in considerable quantity ; small
discharges not being sufficient to make a crisis. On
the contrary, small discharges are a sign that nature is
depressed by the load of humours, and that she lets them
go through weakness and continual irritation. What
comes forth in this manner is crude, because the dis¬
temper is yet too strong; and while mattei’S remain in
this state, nothing hut a bad or imperfect cxdsis is to be
expected. This shows that the distemper triumphs, or
at least is equal in sti'ength to nature, which prognosti-1
cates death, or a pi’olongation of the disease. In this
last case, however, nature often has an opportunity
of attempting a new crisis more happy than the foi>
mer, after having made fresh efforts to advance the
concoction of the humours.—It must here be observed,
however, that, accox*ding to Hippocrates, concoction
cannot be made but in a certain time, as evexy fruit
has a limited time to ripen \ for he compares the
humours which nature has digested to fruits come to-
maturity.
The time required for concoction depends on the
differences among distempers mentioned above. In
those which Hippocrates calls veiy acute, the digestion
or ci’isis happens by the fourth day 5 in those which
are only acute, it happens on the nth, or
14th day j which last is the longest period generally
allowed by Hippocrates in distempers that are truly
acute : though in some places he stretches it to the
20th or 21st, nay, sometimes to the 40th or 60th day.
All diseases that exceed this last term are called chroni¬
cal. And while in those diseases that exceed 14 days,
he considers every fourth day as critical, or at least re¬
markable, by which we may judge whether the crisis
on the following fourth day will be favourable or not j
so in those which run from 20 to 40 reckons only
the sevenths, and in those that exceed 40 he begins to
reckon by 20. Beyond the 120th he thinks that the
number of days has no power over the crisis. .They
are
Jpo
Hippo- are tlien referred to the general changes of the seasons j
crates, some terminating about the equinoxes} others about
y—««j tjie soistices. others about the rising or setting of the
stars of certain constellations ; or if numbers have yet
any place, he reckons by months, or even whole years.
Thus (he says), certain diseases in children have their
crisis in the seventh month after their birth, and others
in their seventh or even in their 14th year.
Though Hippocrates mentions the 2ist as one of the
ci itical days in acute distempers, as already noticed 5
yet, in other places of his works, he mentions also the
2oth. The reason he gives for this in one of those
places of his work is, that the days of sickness wei’e not
quite entire. In general, however, he is much attach¬
ed to the odd days : insomuch that in one of his apho¬
risms he tells us, “ The sweats that come out upon the
3d, 5th, 7th, 9th, nth, 14th, 17th, 21st, 27th, 31st,
or 34th days, are beneficial j but those that come out
upon other days signify that the sick shall be brought
low, that his disease shall be very tedious, and that he
shall be subjected to relapses.” He further says, “That
the fever which leaves the sick upon any but an odd
day is usually apt to relapse.” Sometimes, however,
he confesses that it is otherwise j and he gives an in¬
stance of a salutary crisis happening on the sixth day.
But these are very rare instances, and therefore can¬
not, in his opinion, overthrow the general rule.
Besides the crisis, however, or the change which de¬
termines the fate of the patient, Hippocrates often
speaks of another, which only changes the species of
the distemper, without restoring the patient to health ;
as when a vertigo is turned to an epilepsy, a tertian
u fever to a quartan, or to a continued, &c.
Hisaccura- But what has chiefly contributed to procure the
ey in prog- great respect generally paid to Hippocrates, is his in-
nostics, itustry in observing the most minute circumstances of
diseases, and his exactness in nicely describing every
thing that happened before, and every accident that
appeared at the same time with them} and likewise
what appeared to give ease, and what to increase the
malady: which is what we call writing the history of a
disease.—Tims he not only distinguished one disease
from another by the signs which properly belonged to
each ; hut by comparing the same sort of distemper
which happened to several persons, and the accidents
which usually appeared before and after, he could
oi'ten foretel a disease before it began, and afterwards
give a right judgment of the event of it. By this
way of prognosticating, he came to be exceedingly
admired : and this he carried to such a height, that
it may justly be said to he his master-piece 5 and Cel-
sus, who lived alter him, remarks, that succeeding
physicians, though they found out several new things
relating to the management of diseases, yet were obli¬
ged to the writings of Hippocrates for all that they
knew of signs.
Trom the The first thing Hippocrates considered, when called
look; to a patient, was his looks.—It was a good sign with
him to have a visage resembling that of a person in
health, and the same with what the sick man had be¬
fore he W'as attacked by the disease. As it varied
from this, so much the greater danger was appre¬
hended.. The follow! ng is the description which he
gives of the looks of a dying man.-—“ When a pa¬
tient (says he) has Jus nose sharp, his eyes sunk, his
Histoi
temples hollow, his ears cold and contracted, the skin
of his forehead tense and dry, and the colour of his Ci4
face tending to a pale green, or lead colour, one may
pronounce for certain that death is very near at hand j
unless the strength of the patient has been exhausted
all at once by long watchings, or by a looseness, or
being a long time without eating.” This observa¬
tion has been confirmed by succeeding physicians,
who have, from him, denominated it the Hippocratic
face. The lips hanging relaxed and cold, are like¬
wise looked upon by Hippocrates as a confirmation of
the foregoing prognostic. He also took his signs
from the disposition of the eyes in particular. Whea
a patient cannot bear the light ; when he sheds tears
involuntarily} when, in sleeping, some part of the
white of the eye is seen, unless he usually sleeps after
that manner, or has a looseness upon him : these signs,
as well as the foregoing ones, prognosticate danger.
The eyes deadened, as it were with a mist spread over
them, or their brightness lost, likewise presages death,
or great weakness. The eyes sparkling, fierce, and
fixed, denote the patient to be delirious, or that he
soon will be seized with a frenzy. Wlien the patient
sees any thing red, and like sparks of fire and lightning
pass before his eyes, you may expect an hsemorrhagy;
and this often happens before those crises which are to
be attended by a loss of blood.
The condition of the patient is also shewn by hisI'lomt ji
posture in bed. If you find him lying on one side, |
his body, neck, legs, and arms, a little contracted, ’
which is the posture of a man in health, it is a good
sign : on the contrary, if he lies on his hack, his arms
stretched out, and his legs hanging down, it is a sign
of great weakness } and particularly when the patient
slides or lets himself fall down towards the feet, it de¬
notes the approach of death. W hen a patient in a
burning fever is continually feeling about with his
hands and fingers, and moves them up before his face
and eyes as ii he was going to take away something
that passed before them j or on his bed-covering, as if
he was picking or searching for little straw's, or taking
away some filth, or drawing out little flocks of wool j
all this is a sign that he is delirious, and that he will
die. Amongst the other signs of a present or ap¬
proaching delirium he also adds this : WThen a patient
who naturally speaks little begins to talk more than
he used to do, or when one that talks much becomes
silent, this change is to be reckoned a sort of delirium,
or is a sign that the patient will soon fall into one.
The frequent trembling or starting of the tendons of
the wrist, presage likewise a delirium. As to the differ¬
ent sorts of delirium, Hippocrates is much more afraid
of those that run upon mournful subjects, than such as
are accompanied with mirth.
W hen a patient breathes fast, and is oppressed, it isFr°® i
a sign that he is in pain, and that the parts above thespiraU |
diaphragm are inflamed. Breathing long, or when
the patient is a great while in taking his breath, shows
him to he delirious ; but easy and natural respiration is
always a good sign in acute diseases. Hippocrates de¬
pended much on respiration in making his prognostics^
and therefore has taken care in several places to describe
the different manner of a patient’s breathing. Conti¬
nual watchings in acute diseases, are signs of present
pain, or a delirium near at hand.
MEDICINE.
Hippocrates
t
itory. M E D I
ppy. Pllppocrates also drew signs from all excrements,
tes. whatever they are, that are separated from the body of
v ' man. His most remarkable prognostics, however,
cx\ were from the urine. The patient’s urine, in his opi-
bchar-n‘on» *s ^est w^en the sediment is white, soft to the
touch, and of an equal consistence. If it continue so
during the course of the distemper, and till the time of
the crisis, the patient is in no danger, and will soon be
_ well. This is what Hippocrates called concocted urine,
or what denotes the concoction of the humours 5 and
he observed, that this concoction of the urine seldom
appeared thoroughly, but on the days of the crisis
which happily put an end to the distemper. “ We
ought (said Hippocrates) to compare the urine Avith
the purulent matter which runs from ulcers. As the
pus, which is white, and of the same quality with the
sediment of the urine we are now speaking of, is a
sign that the ulcer is on the point of closing; so that
which is clear, and of another colour than white, and
of an ill smell, is a sign that the ulcer is virulent, and
in the same manner difficult to be cured 5 the urines
that are like this wre have described are only those
which may be named good 5 all the rest are ill, and
differ from one another only in the degrees of more
and less. The first never appear but when nature has
overcome the disease j and are a sign of the concoction
of humours, without which you cannot hope for a cer¬
tain cure. On the contrary, the last are made as long
as their crudity remains, and the humours continue un¬
concocted. Among the urines of this last sort, the best
are reddish, with a sediment that is soft and of an equal
consistence 5 which denotes, that the disease will he
somewhat tedious, but without danger. The worst are
those which are very red, and at the same time clear
and without sediment •, or that are muddy and trou¬
bled in the making. In urine there is often a sort of
cloud hanging in the vessel in which it is received j the
higher this rises, or the farther distant it is from the
bottom, or the more different it is from the colour of the
laudable sediment above mentioned, the more there is
ot crudity. That which is yellow, or of a sandy co¬
lour, denotes abundance of bile ; that which is black is
the worst, especially if it has an ill smell, and is either
altogether muddy or altogether clear. That w hose se¬
diment is like large ground wheat, or little flakes or
scales spread one upon another, or bran, presages ill,
especially the last. The fat or oil that sometimes swims
upon the top of the urine, and appears in a form
something like a spider’s web, is a sign of a consump¬
tion of the flesh and solid parts. The making of a great
quantity of urine is the sign of a crisis, and sometimes
the quality of it shows how the bladder is affected. We
must also observe, that Hippocrates compared the state
the tongue with the urine •, that is to say, when the
tongue was yellow, and charged with bile, the urine he
Knew must of course be of the same colour; and when
the tongue was red and moist, the urine was of its na¬
tural colour.
Among his prognostics from the excretions by stool
are the following :—Those that are soft, yellowish, of
some consistence, and not of an extraordinary ill smell,
tnat answer to the quantity of what is taken inwardly,
and that are voided at the usual hours, are the best of
a|l. They ought also to he of a thicker consistence
CINE.
19T
when the distemper is near the crisis ; and it ought to
be taken for a good prognostic, when some worms, par* Jiippo-
ticularly the round and long, are evacuated at the same crates,
time with them. The prognosis, however, may still be v"" J
favourable, though the matter excreted be thin and
liquid, provided it make not too much noise in coming-
out, and the evacuation be not in a small quantity nor
too often; nor in so great abundance, nor so often, as
to make the patient faint. All matter that is wratery,
white, of a pale green or red colour, or frothy and
viscous, is bad. That which is blackish, or of a livid
hue, is the most pernicious. That which is pure black,
and nothing else but a discharge of black bile, always
prognosticates very ill ; this humour, from what part
soever it comes, showing the ill disposition of the intes¬
tines. The matter that is of several different colours,
denotes the length of the distemper; and, at the same
time, that it may be of dangerous consequence. Hip¬
pocrates places in the same class the matter that isbilious
or yellow, and mixed with blood, or green and black,
or like the dregs or scrapings of the guts. The stools
that consist of pure bile, or entirely of phlegm, he also
looks upon to be very bad.
Matter ejected by vomiting ought to he mixed with
bile and phlegm; where one of these humours only is
observed, it is worse. That which is black, livid, green,
or ot the colour of a leek, indicates alarming conse¬
quences. The same is to be said of that which smells
very ill; and if at the same time it be livid, death is
not far off The vomiting of blood is very often a mor¬
tal symptom.
The spittings which give ease in diseases of the lungs Expectora-
and in pleurisies, are those that come up readily andd011*
without difficulty; and it is good if they be mixed at
the beginning with much yellow : but if they apear of
the same coloux*, or are red, a great while after the be¬
ginning of the distemper, if they are salt and acrimoni¬
ous, and cause violent coughings, they are not good.
Spittings purely yellow are had ; and those that are
white, viscous, and frothy, give no ease. Whiteness is
a good sign of concoction in regard to spittings ; hut
they ought not at all to be viscous, nor too thick, nor
too clear. We may make the same judgment of the
excrements of the nose according to their concoction
and crudity. Spittings that are black, green, and red,
are of very bad consequence. In inflammations of the .
lungs, those that are mixed with bile and blood presage
well if they appear at the beginning, but are bad if
they arise not about the seventh day. But the worst
sign in these distempers is, when there is no expectora¬
tion at all, and the too great quantity of matter that is
ready to be discharged this way makes a rattling in tin#
breast. After spitting of blood, the discharge of puru¬
lent matter then follows, which brings on a consump¬
tion, and at last death.
A kind good sweat is that which arises on the day Sweat,
of the crisis, and is discharged in abundance all over
the body, and at the same time from all parts of the
body, and thus carries off the fever: A cold sweat is
alarming, especially in acute fevers, for in others it is
only a sign of long continuance. 'When the patient
sweats no where but on the head and neck, it is a
sign that the disease will be long and dangerous.
A gentle sweat in some particular part of the head
and breast, for instance, gives no relief, but denotes
the seat of the distemper, or the weakness of the part.
This
From tlic
pulse.
M E D I
This kind of sweat was called by Hippocrates ephidro-
The hypochondria, or the abdomen in general ought
always to be soft and even, as well on the right side as
on the left. When there is any hardness or unevenness
in those parts, or heat and swellings, or when the patient
cannot endure to have it touched, it is a sign the intes¬
tines are indisposed.
Hippocrates also inquired into the state of the pulse,
or the beating of the arteries. The most ancient phy¬
sicians, however, and even Hippocrates himself, for a
long time, by this word understood the violent pulsa¬
tion that is felt in an inflamed part, without putting
the fingers to it. It is observed by Galen, and. other
physicians, that Hippocrates touches on the subject of
the pulse more slightly than any other on which he
treats. But that our celebrated physician understood
something even on this subject, is easily gathered from
several passages in his writings ; as when he observes,
that in acute fevers the pulse is Very quick and very
great} and when he makes mention, in the same place,
of trembling pulses, and those that heat slowly. He
likewise observes, that in some diseases incident to wo¬
men, when the pulse strikes the finger faintly, and in a
languishing manner, it is a sign of approaching death.
He remarks also, in the Coacce Prcenotiones, that he
whose vein, that is to say, whose artery of the elbow,
heats, is just going to run mad, or else that the person
is at that time very much under the influence of anger.
From this account of Hippocrates, it will appear,
that he was not near so much taken up with reasoning
on the phenomena of diseases, as with reporting them.
He was content to observe these phenomena accurately,
to distinguish diseases by them, and judged of the event
by comparing them exactly together. 1* or his skill in
prognostics he was indeed very remarkable, as we have
already mentioned, insomuch that he and his pupils
were looked upon by the vulgar as prophets. W hat
adds very much to his reputation is, that he lived in an
age when physic was altogether buried in superstition,
and yet he did not suffer himself to he carried away by
" if 5 on the contrary, on many occasions, he expresses his
abhorrence of it.
Having thus seen in what Hippocrates makes the
difference between health and sickness to consist, and
likewise the most remarkable signs from whence he
drew his prognostics, we must now consider the means
i2 he prescribed for the preservation of health, and the
Ills maxims Cure. of diseases. One of his principal maxims wTas
tor the pre-tj • Xhat, to preserve health, we ought not to over-
sfirvatmn 7 i • 1
charge ourselves with too much eating, nor neglect
the use of exercise and labour. In the next place, That
we ought by no means to accustom ourselves to too
nice and exact a method of living j because those who
have once begun to act by this rule, if they vary in the
least from it, find themselvss very ill 5 which does not
happen to those who take a little more liberty, and
live somewhat more irregularly. Notwithstanding this,
he does not neglect to inquire diligently into the articles
which those who were in health used for food in his
time. Here we cannot help taking notice of the pro¬
digious disparity between the delicacy of the people in
our days and in those of Hippocrates : for he takes great
pains to tell the difference between the flesh of a dog,
serration
of health.
Diet.
CINE. Histor
a fox, a horso, and an ass ; vAica lie nouM no! Iiave
done if at that time they had not been used for victuals, nW
at least by the common people. Besides these, how-
ever, Hippocrates speaks of all other kinds of provision
that are now in use j for example, salads, milk, whey,
cheese, flesh as well of birds as of four-footed beasts,
fresh and salt fish, eggs, all kinds of pulse, and the dif¬
ferent kinds of grain we feed on, as well as the different
sorts of bread that are made of it. He also speaks very
often of a sort of liquid food, or broth, made of barley-
meal, or some other grain, which they steeped for some
time, and then boiled in water. With regard to drink,
lie takes a great deal of pains to distinguish the good
waters from the bad. The best, in his opinion, ought
to he clear, light, without smell or taste, and taken out
of the fountains that turn towards the east. The salt
waters, those that he calls hard, and those that rise out
of fenny ground, arc the worst of all", he condemns also
those that come from melted snow. But though Hip¬
pocrates makes all those distinctions, he advises those
who are in health to drink of the first water that comes
in their way. He speaks also of alum waters, and those
that are hot 5 hut docs no' enlarge upon their qualities.
He advises to mix wine with an equal quantity of water:
and this (he says) is the just proportion ; by using
which the wine will expel what is hurtful to the body,
and the water will serve to temper the acrimony of the
humours.
For those that are in health, and likewise for suchExercisi
as are sick, Hippocrates advises exercise. The books,
however, which treat on this subject, M. Be Clerc
conjectures to have been written by Herodicus, who
first introduced gymnastic exercise into medicine, and
who is said by Hippocrates himself to have killed seve¬
ral people by forcing them to walk while they were af¬
flicted with fevers and other inflammatory disorders.
The advices given in them consist chiefly in directions
for the times in which we ought to walk, and the con¬
dition we ought to be in before it; when wre ought to
walk slowly, and when to run, &c. j and all this with
design to bring the body down, or dissipate the hu¬
mours. Wrestling, although a violent exercise, is
numbered with the rest. In the same place also
mention is made of a play of the hands and fingers,
which was thought good for health, and called chi-
ronomie ; and of another diversion which was perform¬
ed round a sort of ball hung up, which they called
corycusf and which they struck forward with both their
hands. , ]
With regard to those things which ought to he se- Excrct
parated from, or retained in the human body, Hippocra¬
tes observes, that people ought to take great care not
to load themselves with excrements, or keep them in
too long ; and besides the exercise above mentioned,
which carries off one part of them, and which he pre¬
scribes chiefly on this account, he advises people to
excite and rouse up nature when she flagged, and did
not endeavour to expel the rest, or take care of the im¬
pediments by Avhich she was resisted. For this reason
he prescribed meats proper for loosening the belly } ami
when these wfere not sufficient, he directed the use of
clysters and suppositories. For thin and emaciated
. persons he directed clysters composed only of milk and
oily unctuous substances, which they mixed with a de¬
coction
2
Dry.
coction of chick-pease ; bat for such as were plethoric,
they only made use of salt or sea-water.
1 As a preservative against distempers, Hippocrates
also advised the use of vomits, which he directed to be
taken once or twice a month during the time of winter
and spring. The most simple of these were made of a
decoction of hyssop, with an addition of a little vine¬
gar and salt. He made those that were of a strong and
vigorous constitution take this liquor in a morning fast¬
ing; but such as were thin and weakly took it after
supper.—Venery, in his opinion, is wholesome, pro¬
vided people consult their strength, and do not pur¬
sue it to excess ; which he finds fault wdth on all occa¬
sions, and would have excess avoided also in relation to
sleep and watching. In his writings are likewise to
be found several remarks concerning good and bad air;
and he makes it appear that the good or bad disposition
of this element does not depend solely on the difference
of the climate, but on the situation of every place in
particular. He speaks also of the good and bad effects
of the passions, and recommends moderation in regard
to them.
From what we have already related concerning the
opinions of Hippocrates, it may naturally be concluded,
that for the most part he would be contented with ob¬
serving what the strength of nature is able to accomplish
without being assisted by the physician. That this was
really the case, may be easily perceived from a perusal
of his books entitled, “ Of epidemical distempers
which are, as it were, journals of the practice of Hippo¬
crates : for there we find him often doing nothing more
than describing the symptoms of a distemper, and in¬
forming us what has happened to the patient day after
day, even to his death or recovery, without speaking a
word of any kind of remedy. Sometimes, however, he
did indeed make use of remedies ; but these were ex¬
ceedingly simple and fewr, in comparison of what have
been given by succeeding practitioners. These remedies
we shall presently consider, after we have given an
abridgement of the principal maxims on which his prac¬
tice was founded,
urns Hippocrates asserted in the first place, That contra-
^ ries, or opposites, are the remedies for each other; and
this maxhn ire explains by an aphorism ; in which he
says, that evacuations cure those distempers which come
from repletion, and repletion those that are caused by
evacuation. So heat is destroyed by cold, and cold by
heat, &c. In the second place, he asserted that physic
is an addition of what is wanting, and a subtraction or
retrenchment of what is superfluous : an axiom which is
thus explained, that there are some juices or humours,
which in particular cases ought to be evacuated, or
driven out of the body, or dried up; and some others
which ought to be restored to the body, or caused to be
produced there again. As to the method to be taken
for this addition or retrenchment, he gives this general
caution, That you ought to be careful how you fill up,
or evacuate, all at once, or too quickly, or too much ;
and that it is equally dangerous to heat or cool again on
a sudden ; or rather, you ought not to do it: every
thing that runs to an excess being an enemy to nature.
In the fourth place, Hippocrates allowed that we ought
sometimes to dilate, and sometimes to lock up: to dilate,
or open the passages by which the humour's are voided
‘naturally, when thev are not sufficiently opened, or when
Vol. XIII. Part I. f
*93
they are closed ; and, on the contrary, to lock up or Hippo-
straiten the passages that are relaxed, when the juices crates,
that pass there ought not to pass, or when they pass in * " v 1 ‘
too great quantity. He adds, that we ought sometimes
to smooth, and sometimes to make rough ; sometimes
to harden, and sometimes to soften again; sometimes to
make more fine or supple; sometimes to thicken;
sometimes to rouse up, and at other times to stupify or
take away the sense ; all in relation to the solid parts
of the body, or to the humours. He gives also this far¬
ther lesson, That we ought to have regard to the course
the humours take, from whence they come, and whi¬
ther they go; and in consequence of that, when they
go where they ought not, that we make them take a
turn about, or carry them another way, almost like the
turning the course of a river: or, upon other occasions,
that we endeavour if possible to recal, or make the same
humours return back again; drawing upward such as
have a tendency downward, and drawing downward
such as tend upward. We ought also to carry off, bv
convenient ways, that which is necessary to be carried
oft ; and not let the humours once evacuated enter into
the vessels again. Hippocrates gives also the following
instruction, That when we do any thing according to
reason, though the success be not answ'erable, we ought
not easily, or too hastily, to alter the manner of acting,
as long as the reasons for it are yet good. But as this
maxim might sometimes prove deceitful, he gives the
following as a corrector to it: “ We ought (says he)
to mind with a great deal of attention what gives ease,
and what creates pain ; what is easily supported, and
what cannot be endured.” We ought not to do any
thing rashly ; but ought often to pause, or wait, with¬
out doing any thing : by this way, if you do the pa¬
tient no good, you will at least do him no hurt.
These are the principal and most general maxims of
the practice of Hippocrates, and which proceed up¬
on the supposition laid down at the beginning, viz.
that nature cures diseases. We next proceed to con¬
sider particularly the remedies employed by him, which
will serve to give us further instructions concerning his
practice. 14
Diet was the first, the principal, and often the onlyllis maxim?
remedy made use of by this great physician to answ'er r^peeting
most of the intentions above mentioned : by means of
it he opposed the moist to dry, hot to cold, &c. ; and
what he looked upon to be the most considerable point
wras, that thus he supported nature, and assisted her to
overcome the malady, i he dietetic part of medicine
was so much the invention of Hippocrates himself, that
he was very desirous to be accounted the author of it;
and the better to make it appear that it was a new re¬
medy in his days, he says expressly, that the ancients
had wrote almost nothing concerning the diet ot the
sick, having omitted this point, though it wras one of
the most essential parts of the art.
The diet prescribed by Hippocrates for patients la- Diet in
bouring under acute distempers, differed from thata^^e
which he ordered for those afflicted with chronical
ones. In the former, which require a more particular
exactness in relation to diet, he preferred liquid food
to that which was solid, especially in fevers. F or these
he used a sort of broth made of cleansed barley ; and
to this he gave the name of ptisan. The manner in
which the ancients prepared^ a ptisan was as follows:
B b ' They
MEDICINE.
194
Hippo¬
crates.
M E D I
They first steeped the barley in water till it was plump¬
ed upand afterwards they dried it in the sun, and
heat it to take oft' the husk. They next ground it ;
and having let the flour boil a long time in the wa¬
ter, theyr put it out into the sun, and when it was dry
they pressed it close. It is properly this flour so pre¬
pared that is called ptisan. They did almost the same
thing with wheat, rice, lentils, and other grain: but
they gave these ptisans the name of the grain from
whence they were extracted, as ptisan of lentils, rice,
&cc. while the ptisan of barley was called simply ptisan,
on account of the excellency of it. When they Wanted
to use it, they boiled one part of it in to or 15 °f wa_
ter j and when it began to grow plump in boiling,
they added a little vinegar, and a very small quantity
of anise or leek, to keep it from clogging or filling
the stomach with wind. Hippocrates prescribed this
broth for women that have pains in their belly after
delivery. “ Boil some of this ptisan (says he), with
some leek, and the fat of a goat, and give it to the
woman in bed.” I his will not be thought \eiy
singular, if we reflect on what has been hinted above
concerning the indelicate manner of living in those
times. He preferred the ptisan to all other food in
fevers, because it softened and moistened-much, and
was besides of easy digestion. If he was concerned in
a continual fever," he would have the patient begin
with a ptisan of a pretty thick consistence, and go on
by little and little, lessening the quantity of barley-
flour as the height of the distemper approached ; so
that he did not feed the patient but with what he cal¬
led the juice of the ptisan ; that is, the ptisan strained,
where there was but very little of the flour remaining,
in order that nature being discharged in part from
the care of digesting the aliments, she might the more
easily hold out to the end, and overcome the distem¬
per/or the cause of it. With regard to the quantity,
he caused the ptisan to be taken twice a-day by such
patients as in health used to take two meals a-day, not
thinking it convenient that those who are sick should
eat oftener than when they were well. He also would
not allow eating twice a-day to those who ate but once
in that time when in health. In the paroxysm of a
fever he gave nothing at all; and in all distempers
where there are exacerbations, he forbade nourishment
while the exacerbations continued. He let children eat
more; but those who were grown up to man’s estate, or
were of an advanced age, less •, making allowance, how¬
ever, for the custom of each particular person, or for
that of the country.
But though he was of opinion that too much food
might not to be allowed to the sick, he did not agree
with some physicians who prescribed long abstinence,
especially in the beginning of fevers. The reason he
pave for this was, that the contrary practice weakened
the patients too much during the first days of the di¬
stemper, by which means their physicians were obliged
to allow them more food when the illness was at its
height, which in bis opinion was improper. Besides,
in acute distempers, and particularly in fevers, Hippo¬
crates made choice of refreshing and moistening nou¬
rishment •, and amongst other things prescribed orange,
melon, spinach, gourd, Stc. This sort of food he gave
to those that were in a condition to eat, or could take
something more than a ptisan.
e 1 n e.
His to:
The di-ink he commonly gave to his patients was Hipp
made ol eight parts of water and one ot honey. In crau
some distempers he added a little vinegar 5 hut be- 1.
sides these, they had another sort named Kvx.iui, or mr- .['5||
ture. One prescription of this sort we find intendedmi1'
for a consumptive person it consisted of rue, anise,
celery, coriander, juice of pomegranate, the roughest
red wine, water, flour of wheat and barley, with old
cheese made of goats milk. Hippocrates did not ap¬
prove of giving plain water to the sick ; hut though
he generally prescribed the drinks above mentioned,
he did not absolutely forbid the use of wine, even in
acute distempers and fevers, provided the patients were
not delirious nor had pains in their head. Besides,
he took care to distinguish the wines proper in these
cases 5 preferring to all other sorts white wine that was
clear and had a great deal of water, with neither sweet¬
ness nor flavour. jJ I
These are the most remarkable particulars concern-Diet i I
ing the diet prescribed by Hippocrates in acute di-c!lr0111 ••J
stempers in chronical ones he made very much usee,iSCs'
of milk and whey j though we are not certain whe¬
ther this wras done on account of the nourishment
expected from them, or that he accounted them me¬
dicines. 1 I
There were many diseases for which he judged tbeHismnsl
bath was a proper remedy ; and he takes notice of ; I
all the circumstances that are necessary in order to ‘ I
cause the patient receive benefit from it, among which
the following are the principal. The patient that
bathes himself must remain still and quiet in his place
without speaking while the assistants throw water over
his head or are wiping him dry j for which last pur¬
pose he desired them to keep sponges, instead of that
instrument called by the ancients strigil, which served
to rub off from the skin the dirt and nastiness left upon
it by the unguents and oils with which they anointed
themselves. He must also take care not to catch cold}
and must not bathe immediately after eating and
drinking, nor eat or drink immediately after coming
out of the bath. Regard must also be had whether
the patient has been accustomed to bathe while in
health, and whether lie has been benefited or hurt by
it. Lastly, he must abstain from the hath when the
body is too open, or too costive, or when he is too
weak } or if he has an inclination to vomit, a great
loss of appetite, or bleeds at the nose. The advantage
of the bath, according to Hippocrates, consists in moi¬
stening and refreshing, taking away weariness, making
the skin soft and the joints pliant} in provoking urine,
and opening the other excretories. He allows two
baths in a day to those who have been accustomed to it
in health.
In chronical distempers Hippocrates approved very His ;‘n*
much of exercise, though he did not allow it in acute resp !i:
ones : but even in these he did not think that a pa-cxcr
tient ought always to lie in bed} but tells us, that “ we
must sometimes push the timorous out of bed, and rouse
up the lazy.”
When he found that diet and exercise were notlli?
sufficient to ease nature of a burden of corrupted bu-rc5P^
mours, he was obliged to make use of other means, oD,ur^
whiehpurgation was one. By this word he understood
all the contrivances that are made use of to discharge
the stomach and bowTels } though it commonly signifies
only
M E D I C I N E.
ory.
o- only the evacuation by stool. This evacuation he ima-
;s. gined to be occasioned by the purgative medicines at-
trading the humours to themselves. \\ hen first taken
intothe body, he thought they attracted that humour
which was most similar to them, and then the others,
one after another.—Most of the purgatives used in his
time were emetics also, or at least were very violent in
their operation downwards. These were the white and
black hellebore ; the first of which is now reckoned
among the poisons. He used also the Cnidian berries,
cneorum peplium, thapsia ; the juice of hippophae, a
sort of rhamnus j elaterium, or juice of the wild cu¬
cumber ; ilowers of brass, coloquintida, scammony, the
magnesian stone, &c.
As these purgatives were all very strong, Hippo¬
crates was extremely cautious in their exhibition. He
did not prescribe them in the dog-days ; nor did he
ever purge women with child, and very seldom chil¬
dren or old people. He principally used purgatives in
chronical distempers j but was much more wary in
acute ones. In his hooks entitled “ Of Epidemical
Distempers,” there are very few patients mentioned to
whom he gave purgative medicines. He also takes
notice expressly, that these medicines having been given
in cases of the distempers of which he was treating,
had produced very bad effects. We are not, however,
from this to conclude, that Hippocrates absolutely con¬
demned purging in acute distempers 5 for in some places
he expressly mentions his having given them with suc¬
cess. He was of opinion, for instance, that purging
was good in a pleurisy when the pain was seated be¬
low the diaphragm 5 and in this case he gave black
hellebore, or some peplium mixed with the juice of la±
serpitium.
The principal rule Hippocrates gives with relation
to purging is, that we ought only to purge off’ the
humours that are concocted, and not those that are yet
crude, taking particular care not to do it at the be¬
ginning of the distemper, lest the humours should
be disturbed or stirred up, which happens pretty often.
He was not, however, the first who remarked that
it would be of ill consequence to stir the humours in
the beginning of an acute distemper. The Egyptian
physicians had before observed the same thing. By
the beginning of a distemper, Hippocrates understood
all the time from the first day to the fourth com¬
plete.
Hippocrates imagined that each purgative medicine
was adapted to the carry ing off some particular hu¬
mour ; and hence the distinction of purgatives into hy-
dragogue, cholagogue, &c. which is now justly explo¬
ded. In consequence of this notion, he contended that
we knew if a purgative had drawn from the body what
was fit to be evacuated according as the patient was found
well or ill upon it. If we found ourselves well, it was a
sign that the medicine had effectually expelled the offend¬
ing humour. On the contrary, if we were ill, he
imagined, whatever quantity of humour came away,
that the humour which caused the illness still remain¬
ed •, not judging of the goodness or badness of a
purge by the quantity of matters that were voided by
it, but by their quality and the effect that followed
after it.
Vomits were also pretty much used as medicines by
Hippocrates. We have already seen tvhat those were
which he prescribed to people in health by way of jjjpp0.
preventives. W ith regard to the sick, he sometimes crates
advised them to the same, when his intentions were ' v “
only to cleanse the stomach. But when he had a mind
to recal the humours, as he termed it, from the inmost
refcesses ol the body, he made use of brisker remedies.
Among these was white hellebore 5 and this indeed he
most frequently used to excite vomiting. He gave
this root particularly to melancholy and mad people j
and from the great use made of it in these cases by
Hippocrates and other ancient physicians, the phrase
to have need of hellebore, became a proverbial expres¬
sion for being out of one’s senses. He gave it also in
defluxions, which come, according to him, from the
brain, and throw themselves on the nostrils or ears, or
till the mouth with saliva, or that cause stubborn pains
in the head, and a weariness or an extraordinary hea¬
viness, or a weakness of the knees, or a swelling all over
the body. He gave it to consumptive persons in broth
of lentils, to such as were afflicted with the dropsy
called leucophlegmatia, and in other chronical disorders.
But we do not find that he made use of it in acute dis¬
tempers, except in the cholera morbus, where he says
he prescribed it with benefit. Some took this medi¬
cine fasting j but most took it after supper, as was com¬
monly practised with regard to vomits taken by way
of prevention. The reason why he gave this medicine
most commonly after eating was, that by mixing with
the aliments, its acrimony might be somewhat abated,
and it might operate with less violence on the mem¬
branes of the stomach. With the same intention also
he sometimes gave a plant called sesamoides, and some¬
times mixed it with hellebore. Lastly, in certain
cases he gave what he called soft or sweet hellebore.
This term had some relation to the quality of the hel¬
lebore, or perhaps the quantity he gave.
When Hippocrates intended only to keep the body-
open, or evacuate the contents of the intestines, he
made use of simples ; as, for example, the herb mer¬
cury, or cabbage; the juice or decoction of which he
ordered to be drank. For the same purpose he used
whey, and also cows and asses milk ; adding a little salt
to it, and sometimes letting it boil a little. If he gave
asses milk alone, he caused a great quantity ol it to be
taken, so that it must of necessity loosen the body. In
one place lie prescribes no less than nine pounds of it
to be taken as a laxative, but does not specily the
time in which it was to he taken. With the same in¬
tention he made use of suppositories and clysters. rl he
former were compounded of honey, the juice ol the
herb mercury, of nitre, powder of colocynth, and other
sharp ingredients, to irritate the anus. These they
formed into a ball, or into a long cylindrical mass like
a finger. The clysters he made use ol for sick people
were sometimes the same with those already mention¬
ed as preventives for people in health. At other times
he mixed the decoction ol herbs tvith nitre, honey, and
oil, or other ingredients, according as he imagined he
could by that means attract, wash, irritate, or soiteu.
The quantity of liquor he ordered was about 36 ounces j
from which it. is probable he did not intend that it
should all be used at one time.
On some occasions Hippocrates proposed to purge
the head alone. This practice he employed after pur-
mng the rest of the bodv, in an apoplexy, inveterate
' B b 2 ’ pains
} £)6
Hippo¬
crates,
pains of the head, a certain sort of jaundice, a con¬
sumption, and the greatest part of chronical distem-
1 v”"—' perSt j'or that purpose he made use of the juices of
several plants, as celery", to which he sometimes added
aromatic drugs, making the patients snuff up this mix¬
ture into their nostrils. He used also powders com¬
pounded of myrrh, the flowers of brass, and white
hellebore, which he caused them put up into the nose,
to make them sneeze, and to draw the phlegm from
the brain. For the same purpose also he used what
he calls tetragonon, that is, “ something having four
angles j” but what this was, is now altogether un¬
known, and was so even in the days ol Galen. The
latter physician, however, conjectures it to be antimo¬
ny, or certain flakes found in it.
In the distemper called empyema (or a collection of
matter in the breast), he made use ot a very rough me¬
dicine. He commanded the patient to draw in his
tongue as much as he was able ; and when that was done,
he endeavoured to put into the hollow of the lungs a
liquor that irritated the part, which raising a violent
cough, forced the lungs to discharge the purulent
matter contained in them. The materials that he used
for this purpose were of different sorts ; sometimes
he took the root of arum, which he ordered to be
boiled with a little salt, in a sufficient quantity of wa¬
ter and oil 5 dissolving a little honey in it. At other
times, when he intended to purge more strongly, he
took the flowers of copper and hellebore } after that
he shook the patient violently by the shoulders, the
better to loosen the pus. This remedy, according to
Galen, he received from the Cnidian physicians ; and
it has never been used by the succeeding ones, probably
because the patients could not suffer it.
His maxims Blood-letting, was another method of evacuation
respecting pretty much used by Hippocrates. Another aim he
blood-let- had in this, besides the mere evacuation, was to divert
or recal the course of the blood when he imagined it
was going where it ought not. A third end of bleed¬
ing was to procure a free motion of the blood and spi¬
rits,
Hippocrates had also a fourth intention for bleed¬
ing, and this was refreshment. So in the iliac passion,
he orders bleeding in the arm and in the head ; to the
end, says he, that the superior venter, or the breast,
may cease to be overheated. With regard to this eva¬
cuation, his conduct was much the same as to purging*
in respect of time and persons. We ought, says he,
to let blood in acute diseases, when they are violent*
if the party be lusty and in the flower of his age. We
ought also to have regard to the time, both in respect
to the disease and to the season in which we let blood.
He also informs us, that blood ought to be let in great
pains, and particularly in inflammations. Among these
he reckons such as fall upon the principal viscera, as
the liver, lungs, and spleen, as also the quinsy and
pleurisy, if the pain of the latter be above the dia¬
phragm. In these cases he would have the patients
blooded till they faint, especially if the pain be very
acute; or rather he advises that the orifice should not
be closed till the colour of the blood alters, so that from
livid it turn red, or from red livid. In a quinsy he
blooded in both arms at once. Difficulty of breathing
be also reckons among the distempers that require
bleeding 5 and he mentions another sort of inflamma-
MEDICINE. Histc
tion of the lungs, which he calls a swelling or tumor Hipj
ting.
of the lungs arising from heat } in which case he ad- crat
vises to bleed in all parts of the body ; and directs it1—v
particularly by the arms, tongue, and nostrils. * To
make bleeding the more useful in all pains, he directed
to open the vein nearest the part affected ; in a pleurisy
he directs to take blood from the arm of the side affec¬
ted ; and for the same reason, in pains of the head, he
directs the veins of the nose and forehead to be opened.
When the pain was not urgent, and bleeding was ad¬
vised by way of prevention, he directed the blood to
he taken from the parts farthest off, with a design to
divert the blood insensibly from the seat of pain. The
highest burning fevers, which show neither signs of in¬
flammation nor pain, he does not rank among those
distempers which require bleeding. On the contrary,
he maintains that a fever itself is in some cases a reason
against bleeding. If any one, says he, has an ulcer in
the head, he must bleed, unless he has a fever. He says
further, those that lose their speech of a sudden must
be blooded, unless they have a fever. Perhaps he was
afraid of bleeding in levers, because he supposed that
they were produced by the bile and pituita, which
grew hot, and afterwards heated the wdiole body,
which is, says he, what we call fever, and which, in
his opinion, cannot well be evacuated by bleeding. In
other places also he looks upon the presence or abun¬
dance of bile to be an objection to bleeding; and he
orders to forbear venesection even in a pleurisy, if there
be bile. To this we must add, that Hippocrates di¬
stinguished very particularly between a fever which
followed no other distemper, but was itself the original
malady, and a fever which came upon inflammation.
In the early ages of physic, the first only were proper¬
ly called fevers: the others took their names from the
parts affected ; as pleurisy, peripneumony, hepatitis, ne¬
phritis, &c, which names signify that the pleura, the
lungs, the liver, or the kidneys, are diseased, but do
not intimate the fever which accompanies the disease.
In this latter sort of fev£r Hippocrates constantly or¬
dered bleeding, but not in the former. Hence, in his
books on Epidemic Distempers, we find but few di¬
rections for bleeding in the acute distempers, and par¬
ticularly in the great number of continual and burning
fevers there treated of. In the first and third book
we find but one single instance of bleeding, and that
in pleurisy j in which too, he staid till the eighth
day of the distemper. Galen, however, and most 0-
ther commentators on Hippocrates, are of opinion
that he generally blooded his patients plentifully in the
beginning of acute disorders, though he takes no no¬
tice of it in his writings. But had this been the case, he
would not perhaps have had the opportunity of seeing
so many fever’s terminate by crisis, or natui-al evacua¬
tions, which happen of themselves on certain days.
Hippocrates,' in fact, laid so much weight upon the
assistance of nature and the method of diet, which was
his favourite medicine, that he thought if they took
care to diet the patients according to rule, they might
leave the x-est to nature. These are his principles,
from which he never deviates j so that his writings
on F.pidemical Diseases seem to have been composed
only with an intention to leave to postex-ity an ex¬
act model of management in pursuance of these prin¬
ciples.
With
ij story.- M E D I
With regard to the rules laid down by Hippocrates
for bleeding, we must farther take notice, that in all
diseases which had their seat above the liver, he blood¬
ed in the arm, or in some of the upper parts of the
body ; but for those that were situated below it, he
opened the veins of the foot, ankle, or ham. If the
belly was too loose, and bleeding was at the same time
thought necessary, he ordered the looseness to be stop¬
ped before bleeding.
Almost all these instances, however, regard scarcely
any thing but acute distempers ; but we find several
concerning chronical diseases. “ A young man com¬
plained of great pain in his belly, with a rumbling
while he was fasting, which ceased after eating: this
pain and rumbling continuing, his meat did him no
good ; but, on the contrary, he daily wasted and grew
lean. Several medicines, as well purges as vomits,
were given him in vain. At length it was resolved to
bleed him by intervals, first in one arm and then in the
other, till he had scarcely any blood left, and by this
method he was perfectly cured.”
Hippocrates let blood also in a dropsy, even in a
tympany; and in both cases he prescribes bleeding in
the arm. In a disease occasioned by an overgrown
spleen, he proposes bleeding several times repeated at
a vein of the arm which he calls the splenetic ; and in
one species of jaundice, he proposes bleeding under the
tongue. On some occasions he took away great quan¬
tities of blood, as appears from what we have already
observed. Sometimes he continued the blooding till
the patient fainted : at other times he would blood in
both arms at once •, at others, he did it in several pla¬
ces of the body, and at several times. The veins he
opened were those of the arm, the hands, the ankles
on both sides, the hams, the forehead, behind the head,
the tongue, the nose, behind the ears, under the breasts,
and those of the arms 5 besides which, he burnt others,
and opened several arteries. He likewise used cupping-
vessels, with intent to recal or withdraw the humours
which fell upon any part. Sometimes he contented
himsell with the bare attraction made by the cupping-
121 vessels, but sometimes also he made scarifications.
B naxims W hen bleeding and purging, which were the prin-
4i tics^ ant^ mosl' general means used by Hippocrates
ai ;uci0. for taking off a plethora, proved insufficient for that
purpose, he had recourse to diuretics and sudorifics.
The former were of different sorts, according to the
constitution of the persons: sometimes baths, and,
sometimes sweet wine, were employed to provoke
urine j sometimes the nourishment which we take con-,
tributes to it: and amongst those herbs which are
commonly eaten, Hippocrates recommends garlic, leeks,
onions, cucumbers, melons, gourds, fennel, and all other
thing,-, which have a biting taste and a strong smell.
With these he numbers honey, mixed with water or
vinegar, and all salt meats. But, on some occasions,
he took four cantharides, and, pulling off their wings
and feet, gave them in wine and honey. These reme¬
dies were given in a great number of chronical di¬
stempers after purging, when he thought the blood
was overcharged with a sort of moisture which he calls
tchor; or in suppressions of urine, and when it was
made in less quantity than it ought. There were also
■Jome cases in which he would force sweat as well as
I97
Hippo¬
crates.
CINE.
urine; but he neither mentions the diseases in which
sudorifics are proper, nor lets us know what medicines
are to be used lor this purpose, except in one single
passage, where he mentions sweating, by pouring upon
the head a great quantity of w’ater till the feet sweat j
that is, till the sweat dilluses itself over the whole bodv,
running Irom head to foot. After this he would have
them eat boiled meat, and drink pure wine, and being
well eovered with clothes, lay themselves down to rest.
Ihc disease lor which he proposes the above-mention¬
ed remedy is a fever } which is not, according to him,
produced by bile or pituita, but by mere lassitude, or-
some other similar cause j from whence we may con¬
clude that he did not approve of sweating in any other,
kind of fever.
Other remedies which Hippocrates tells us lie mad&
use of were those that purged neither bile nor phlegm,
but act by cooling, drying, heating, moistening, or by
closing and thickening, resolving and dissipating. These
medicines, however, lie does not particularly mention j
and it is jirobable they were only some particular kinds
of food. To these he joined hypnotics, or such things
as procure sleep ; but these last were used very seldom,
and, it is most probable, were only different prepara¬
tions of poppies.
Lastly, besides the medicines already mentioned, ysre jie.
which acted in a sensible manner, Hippocrates made made of spe-
use of others called specifics; whose action he did not
understand, and for the use of which he could give no
reason but his own experience, or that of other physi-,
cians. These he had learned from his predecessors the
descendants of /Esculapius, who, being empirics, did
not trouble themselves about enquiring into the opera¬
tion of remedies, provided the patients were cured.
Of the external remedies prescribed by Hippo- jjis ^el¬
evates, fomentations were the chief. These were of nal applica*
two kinds. The one was a sort of bath, in which thetions.
patient sat in a vessel full of a decoction of simples
appropriated to his malady j so that the part affected
was soaked in the decoction. This was chiefly used
in distempers of the womb, of the arms, the bladder,
the reins, and generally all the parts below the dia¬
phragm. The second way of fomenting was, to take
warm water and put it into a skin or bladder, or even ™ 24.
. , , , . , . , x omenta-
mto a copper or earthen vessel, and to apply it to thetions.
part affected 5 as, for example, in a pleurisy. They
used likewise a large sponge, which they dipped in the
water or other hot liquor, and squeezed out part of
the liquor before they applied it. The same use they
made of barley, vetches, or bran, which were boiled
in some proper liquor, and applied in a linen bag.
They are called moist fomentations. The dry ones
were made of salt or millet, heated considerably, and
applied to the part. Another kind of fomentation
was the vapour of some hot liquor j an instance of which
we find in the first book of the Distempers of Women.
He cast, at several times, bits of red-hot iron into
urine, and, covering up the patient close, caused her
to receive the steam below. His design in these kinds
of fomentations was to warm the part, to resolve or
dissipate, and draw out the peccant matter, to mollify
and assuage pain, to open the passages, or even to shut
them, according as the fomentations were emollient or
astringent..
Fumigations
198
Hippo-
cratcs
25
Fumiga
tions.
16
Gargles,
27
Oils and
ointments.
M E D
Fumigations were likewise very often used by Hip¬
pocrates. In the quinsy, he burned hyssop with
sulphur and pitch, and caused the smoke to be drawn
into the throat by a funnel *, and by this means he
brought away abundance of phlegm through the
mouth and through the nose. For this purpose he
took nitre, marjoram, and cress-seeds, which he boiled
in water, vinegar, and oil, and, while it was on the
fire, caused the patient to draw in the steam by a pipe.
In his works we find a great number of fumigants for
the distempers of women, to promote the menstrual
flux, to check it, to help conception, and to ease pains
in the matrix, or the suffocation of it. On these oc¬
casions he used such aromatics as were then known,
viz. cinnamon, cassia, myrrh, and several odoriferous
plants 5 likewise some minerals, such as nitre, sulphur,
and pitch, and caused the patient to receive the va¬
pours through a funnel into the uterus.
Gargles, a kind of fomentations for the mouth,
were also known to Hippocrates. In the quinsy he
used a gargle made of marjoram, savory, celery, mint,
and nitre, boiled with water and a little vinegar.
When this was strained, they added honey to it, and
washed their mouths frequently with it.
Oils and ointments were likewise much used by
Hippocrates, with a view to mollify and abate pain,
to ripen boils, resolve tumours, refresh after weariness,
make the body supple, &c. For this purpose, some¬
times pure oil of olives was used; sometimes certain
simples were infused in it, as the leaves of myrtle and
roses •, and the latter kind of oil was in much request
among the ancients. There were other sorts of oils
sometimes in use, however, which were, much more
compounded. Hippocrates speaks of one named Susi-
num, which was made of the flowers of the iris, of some
aromatics, and of an ointment of narcissus made with
the flowers of narcissus and aromatics infused in oil.
But the most compounded of all his ointments was
that called netopon, which he made particularly for
women; and consisted of a great number of ingredi¬
ents. Another ointment, to which he gave the name
of ceratum, was composed of oil and wax. An oint¬
ment which he recommends for the softening a tu¬
mor, and the cleansing a wound, was made by the
following receipt: “ Take the quantity of a nut of the
marrow or fat of a sheep, of mastic or turpentine the
quantity of a bean, and as much wax *, melt these over
a fire, with oil of roses, for a ceratum.” Sometimes
lie added pitch and wax, and, with a sufficient quanti¬
ty of oil, made a composition somewhat more consist¬
ent than the former, which he called cerapissus.
Cataplasm?. Cataplasms were a sort of remedies less consistent
than the two former. They were made of powders
or herbs steeped or boiled in water or some other li¬
quor, to which sometimes oil was added. They were
used with a view to soften or resolve tumors, ripen ab¬
scesses, &c. though they had also cooling cataplasms
made of the leaves of beets or oak, fig or olive-trees,
boiled in water.
Lastly, To complete the catalogue of the external
remedies used by Hippocrates, we shall mention a sort
of medicine called colhjrium. It was compounded of
powders, to which was added a small quantity of
some ointment, or juice of a plant, to make a solid or
dry mass j the form of which was long and round,
1 C I N E,
aS
29
Coil vria.
History,
which was kept for use. Anothet composition 0f much Hippo
the same nature was a sort of lozenge of the bigness of crates,
a small piece of money, which was burnt upon coals lT->
for a perfume, and powdered for particular uses.,, In
his works we find likewise descriptions of powders for
several uses, to take off fungous flesh, and to blow into
the eyes in opthalmies, &c.
These were almost all the medicines used by Hip¬
pocrates for external purposes. The compound me¬
dicines given inwardly were either liquid, solid, or
lambative. The liquid ones were prepared either by
decoction or infusion in a proper liquor, which, when
strained, were kept for use 5 or by macerating certain
powders in such liquors, and so taking them toge¬
ther, or by mixing different kinds of liquors toge¬
ther. The solid medicines consisted of juices inspis¬
sated ; of gums, resins, or powders, made up with
them or with honey, or something proper to give the
necessary consistence to the medicine. These were
made up in a form and quantity fit to be swallowed
with ease. The lambative was of a consistence be¬
tween solid and fluid} and the patients were obliged
to keep it for some time to dissolve in the mouth, that
they might swallow it leisurely. This remedy was
used to take off the acrimony of those humours which
sometimes fall upon this part, and provoke coughing
and other inconveniences. The basis of this last com¬
position was honey. It is worth our observation, that
the compound medicines of Hippocrates were but very
few, and composed only of four or five ingredients at
most; and that he not only understood pharmacy, or
the art of compounding medicines, but prepared such
as he used himself, or caused his servants prepare them
in his house by his directions.
We have thus given some account of the state of
medicine as practised and taught by Hippocrates, who,
as we have already observed, has for many ages been
justly considered as the father of physic. For when
we attend to the state in which he found medicine, and
the condition in which he left it, we can hardly bestow
sufficient admiration on the judgment and accuracy of
his observations. After a life spent in umveai'ied indus¬
try, he. is said to have died at Larissa, a city in Thes¬
saly, in the 101st year of his age, 361 years before the
birth of Christ.
After the days of Hippocrates, medicine in ancient
Greece gradually derived improvement from the la¬
bour bf other physicians of eminence. And wTe may
particularly mention three to whom its future progress
seems to have been not a little indebted} viz. Praxago-
ras, Erasistratus, and Herophilus.
The first physician of eminence who differed consi-
derably in his practice from Hippocrates was Praxa-raSi
goras. Ccelius Aurelianus acquaints us, that he made
great use of Uvomits in his practice, insomuch as to ex¬
hibit them in the iliac passion till the excrements
were discharged by the mouth. In this distemper he
also advised, when r.ll other means failed, to open the
belly, cut the intestine, take out the indurated fixees,
and then to sew up all again } but this practice has
not probably been followed by any subsequent physi¬
cian.
Erasistratus
and flourished
successors of Alexander the Great. According to
1 Galen,
31!
was a physician of great eminence, £rHsi:
in the time of Seleueus, one of thetus.
istory. M E D I
sistra- Galefe, lie entirely banished venesection from - medi-
us. cine j though some affirm that he did not totally dis-
■v^^caid it, but only used it less frequently than other
physicians. His reasons for disapproving of venesec¬
tion are as follow : It is difficult to succeed in vene¬
section, because we cannot always see the vein we in¬
tend to open, and because we are not sure but we
may open an artery instead of a vein. We cannot
ascertain the true quantity to be taken. If we take
too little, the intention is by no means answered : if
we take too much, ive run a risk of destroying the
patient. The evacuation of the venous blood also is
succeeded by that of the spirits, which on that occa¬
sion he supposes to pass from the arteries into the veins.
It must likewise, he contends, be observed, that as the
inflammation is formed in the arteries by the blood
coagulated in their orifices, venesection must of course
be useless and of no elfect.
As Erasistratus did not approve of venesection, so
neither did he of purgatives, excepting very rarely,
but exhibited clysters and vomits j as did also his ma¬
ster Chrysippus. He was of opinion, however, that
the clysters should he mild ; and condemned the large
quantity and acrid quality of those used by preceding
practitioners. The reason why purgatives w'ere not
much used by him was* that he imagined purging and
venesection could answer no other purpose than dimi¬
nishing the fulness of the vessels ; and for this purpose
he assserted that there were more effectual means than
either phlebotomy or purging. He asserted that the
humours discharged by cathartics were not the same in
the body that they appeared after the discharge * but
that the medicines changed their nature, and produced
a kind of corruption in them. This opinion has since
been embraced by a great number of physicians. He
did not believe that purgatives acted by attraction ;
but substituted in the place of this principle what Mr
Le Clerc imagines to be the same with Aristotle’s
fuga vacui. The principal remedy substituted by him
in place of purging and venesection was abstinence.
When this, in conjunction with clysters and vomits,
was not sufficient to eradicate the disease, he then had
recourse to exercise. All this was done with a view
to diminish plenitude, which, according to him, was
the most frequent cause of all diseases. Galen also in¬
forms us, that Erasistratus had so great an opinion of
the virtues of succory in diseases of the viscera and lower
belly, and especially in those of the liver, that lie took
particular pains to describe the method of boiling it,
which vras, to boil it in water till it was tender ; then
Jo put it into boiling water a second time, in order to
destroy its bitterness 5 afterwards to take it out of the
water, and preserve it in a vessel with oil * and lastly,
when it is to be used, add a little weak vinegar to it.
Nay, so minute and circumstantial was Erasistratus with
regard to the preparation of his favourite succory, that
he gave orders to tie several of the plants together, be¬
cause that was the more commodious method of boil¬
ing them. The rest of Erasistratus’s practice consisted
almost entirely of regimen * to which he added some
topical remedies, such as catapsalms, fomentations, and
unctions. In abort, as he could neither endure com¬
pounded medicines, nor superstitious and fine-spun rea¬
sonings, be reduced medicine to a very simple and com¬
pendious art.
C t N E. I99
With regard to surgery, Erasistratus appears toHeroplhlus.
nave been very bold j and as an anatomist be is said to v——y-— ■!
have been exceedingly cruel, insomuch that he is re¬
presented by some as having dissected criminals while
yet alive*. In a scirrhous liver, or in tumours of*see^na
that organ, Ccelius Aurelianus observes, that Erasistra- tomy, Hist.
tus made an incision through the skin and integu¬
ments, and having opened the abdomen he applied
medicines immediately to the part affected. But though
he was thus bold in performing operations on the liver,
yet he did not approve of the paracentesis or tapping in
the dropsy 5 because (said he) the waters being eva¬
cuated, the liver, which is inflamed and become bard
like a stone, is more pressed by the adjacent parts
which the waters kept at a distance from it, so that
by this means the patient dies. He declared also
against drawing teeth which were not loose * and used
to tell those who talked with him on this operation,
'I hat in the temple of Apollo there wTas to be seen an
instrument of lead for drawing teeth * in order to insi¬
nuate that we must not attempt the extirpation of any
hut such as are loose, and call for no greater force for
their extirpation than what may be supposed in an in¬
strument of lead. ,2
Herophilus, the disciple of Praxagoras, and contem-Ilerophilus,
porary of Erasistratus, followed a less simple practice:
lie made so great use of medicines both simple and
compound, that neither he nor his disciples would un¬
dertake the cure of any disorder without them. He
seems also to have been the first who treated accurately
of the doctrine of pulses, of which Hippocrates had but
a superficial knowledge. Galen, however, affirms, that
on this subject he involved himself in difficulties and acb
vanced absurdities which indeed we are not greatly to
wonder at, considering the time in which he lived.
He took notice of a disease at that time pretty rare,
and to which he ascribes certain sudden deaths. He
calls it a pa/s?/ of the heart; and perhaps it may be
the same disease with what is now termed the angina
pectoris.
According to Cels ns, it was about this time that
medicine was first divided into three branches, viz. the
dietetic, the pharmaceutical, and the chirurgical medi¬
cine. The first of these employed a proper regimen
in the cure of diseases } the second, medicines j and
the third, the operation of the hands. The same au¬
thor informs us, that these three branches became
now the business of as many distinct classes of men \
so that from this time we may date the origin of the
three professions of physicians, apothecaries, and sur¬
geons.—Before this division, those called physicians dis¬
charged all the several offices belonging to the three
professions ; and there were only two kinds ol them,
viz. one called who gave only their ad¬
vice to the patients, and directions to those of an infe¬
rior class, who were called and worked with
their hands either in the performing operations, or in
the composition and application ol remedies.
The first grand revolution which happened in the The Empi-
medicinal art, after the days of Herophilus and Etasi-rics.
stratus, was occasioned by the founding of the empiric
sect by Serapion of Alexandria about 287 years before ^
Christ. The division into dogmatists and empirics Sempion.
had indeed subsisted before •, but about this time the
latter party began to grow strong, and to have cham¬
pions
200
Serapion. plons publicly asserting its cause. Galen informs us,
t— 'that Serapion used Hippocrates very ill in his writ¬
ings, in which he discovered an excess of pride, self-
sufficiency, and contempt for all the physicians that
went before him. We have some sketches of his
practice in Ccelius Aurelianus, from which we may
infer that he retained the' medicines of Hippocrates
and the other physicians who went before him, though
he rejected their reasoning. We know not what argu¬
ments he advanced for the support of his sentiments,
since his works are lost, as well as those of the other
empirics 5 and wre should know nothing at all of any of
them, if their adversaries had not quoted them in order
to confute them.
The empirics admitted only one general method of
obtaining Skill in the medical art, which was by ex¬
perience, called by the Greeks lUTrugiec. From this
word they took their name, and refused to he called
after the founder or any champion of their sect.
They defined experience a knowledge derived from
the evidence of sense. It was either fortuitous, or
acquired by design. For acquiring practical skill they
recommended what they called or one’s own
observation, and the reading of histories or cases faith-
• fully related by others. Hence they thought that
we might be enabled to know a disease by its resem¬
blance to others j and, when new diseases occurred, to
conclude what was proper to be done from the symp¬
toms they had in common with others that were before
known. They asserted, that observation ought princi¬
pally to be employed in two different ways 5 first, in
discovering what things are salutary, and what are of
an indifferent nature } and, secondly, what particular
disease is produced by a certain concurrence of symp¬
toms } for they did not call every symptom a disease,
but only such a combination of them as from long ex¬
perience they found to accompany each other, and pro¬
duced such disordera as began and terminated in the
same manner.
On the other hand, the dogmatist affirmed, that
there was a necessity for knowing the latent as well
as the evident causes of diseases, and that the physi¬
cian ought to understand the natural actions and func¬
tions of the human body, which necessarily presup¬
poses a knowledge of the internal parts. By secret
or latent causes they meant such as related to the ele¬
ments or principles of which our bodies are composed,
and which are the origin of a good or bad state of
health. They asserted that it was impossible to know
how to cure a disease without knowing the cause
whence it proceeded ; because undoubtedly it behoved
diseases to vary prodigiously in themselves according to
the different causes by which they were produced.
Asclepi- 'Hie next remarkable person in the history of physic
a(jes. is Asclepiades, who flourished in the century immedi¬
ately preceding the birth of Christ. He introduced
the philosophy of Democritus and Epicurus into me¬
dicine, and ridiculed the doctrines of Hippocrates.
He asserted, that matter considered in itself was of an
unchangeable nature; and that all perceptible bodies
were composed of a number of smaller ones, between
which there were interspersed an infinity of small spaces
totally void of all matter. He thought that the soul
itself was composed of these small bodies. He laughed
•at the principle called Nature by Hippocrates, and
MEDICI N £.
Histt
also at the imaginary faculties said by him to be sub- Asd j
servient to her; and still more at what he called Jt- ado
traction. This last principle Asclepiades denied in J
every instance, even in that of the loadstone and steel,
imagining that this phenomenon proceeded from a
concourse of corpuscles, and a particular disposition or
modification of their pores. He also maintained, that
nothing happened or was produced without some cause ;
and that what was called nature was in reality no
more than matter and motion. From this last prin¬
ciple he inferred that Hippocrates knew not what he
said when he spoke of Nature as an intelligent being,
and ascribed qualities of different kinds to her. For
the same reason he ridiculed the doctrine of Hippo¬
crates with regard to crises ; and asserted that the
termination of diseases might be as well accounted for
from mere matter and motion. He maintained, that
wre were deceived if Ave imagined that nature always
did good; since it Avas evident that she often did a
great deal of harm. As for the days particularly
fixed upon by Hippocrates for crises, or those on
Avhich Ave usually observe a change either for the bet¬
tor or the Averse, Asclepiades denied that such altera¬
tions happened on those days rather than on others.
Nay, he asserted that the crisis did not happen at any
time of its own accord, or by the particular determi¬
nation of nature for the cure of the disorder, but that
it depended rather on the address and dexterity of the
physician ; that Ave ought never to Avait till a distem¬
per terminates of its OAvn accord, but that the physi¬
cian by his care and medicines must hasten on and ad¬
vance the cure.—According to him, Hippocrates and
other ancient physicians attended their patients rather
with a view to observe in Avhat manner they died
than in order to cure them ; and thus under pretence
that Nature ought to do all herself, without any assist¬
ance.
According to Asclepiades, the particular assemblage
of the various corpuscles above mentioned, and repre¬
sented as of different figures, is the reason Avhy there
are several pores or interstices within the common
mass, formed by these corpuscles; and Avhy these pores
are of a diflerent size. This being taken for granted,
as these pores are in all the bodies Ave observe, it must
of course folloAv that the human body has some pecu¬
liar to itself, which, as well as those of all other bo¬
dies, contain certain minute bodies, which pass and re¬
pass by those pores that communicate Avith each other;
and as these pores or interstices are larger or smaller,
so the corpuscles xvhich pass through them differ pro¬
portionally as to largeness and minuteness. The blood
consists of the largest of these corpuscles, and the
spirits, or the heat, of the smallest.
From these principles he infers, that as long as the
corpuscles are freely received by the pores, the body
remains in its natural state, and, on the contrary, it
begins to recede from that state, Avhen the corpuscles
find any obstacle to their passage. Health therefore
depends on the just proportion betAveen the pores and
the corpuscles they are destined to receive and transmit;
as diseases, on the contrary, proceed from a dispropor¬
tion between these pores and the corpuscles. The most
usual obstacle on this occasion proceeds from the cor¬
puscles embracing each other, and being retained in
some of their ordinary passages, Avhether these corpus¬
cles
Icpi-
tory. M E D I
clcs arrive in too large a nunibor, are of irregular fi¬
gures, move too fast or too slow, &c.
Among the diseases produced by the corpuscles stop¬
ping of their own accord, Asclepiades reckoned phren-
sies, lethargies, pleurisies, and burning fevers. Pains,
in particular, are classed among the accidents which
derive their origin from a stagnation of the largest of
tdl the corpuscles of which the blood consists. Among
the disorders produced by the bad state and disposition
of the pores, he placed delhjuiums, languors, extenua¬
tions, leanness, and dropsies. These last disorders he
thought proceeded from the pores being too much re¬
laxed and opened : the dropsy in particular, he thinks,
proceeds from the flesh being perforated with various
small holes, which convert the nourishment received
into them into water. Hunger, and especially that
species of it c-aMt&fames canina, proceeds from an open¬
ing of the large pores of the stomach and belly 5 and
thirst from an opening of their small ones. Upon the
same principles he accounted for intermittent fevers.
According to him, quotidian fevers are caused by a
retention of the largest corpuscles, those of the tertian
kind by a retention of corpuscles somewhat smaller,
and quartan fevers are produced by a retention of the
smallest corpuscles of all.
The practice of Asclepiades was suited to remove
these imaginary causes of disorders. He composed a
book concerning ■ common remedies, which he princi¬
pally reduced to three, viz., gestation, friction, and
the use of wine. By various exercises he proposed to
render the pores more open, and to make the juices
and small bodies, which cause diseases by their reten¬
tion, pass more freely ; and while the former physicians
had not recourse to gestation till towards the end of
long continued disorders, and when the patients, though
entirely free from fever, were yet too weak to take
sufficient exercise by walking, Asclepiades used gesta¬
tion from the very beginning of the most burning fe¬
vers. He laid it down as a maxim, that one fever was
to be cured by another j that the strength df the pa¬
tient was to be exhausted by making him watch and
endure thii*st to such a degree, that, for the two first
days of the disorder, he would not allow them to cool
their mouths with a drop of water. Celsus also observes,
that though Asclepiades treated his patients like a but¬
cher during the first days of the disorder, he indulged
them so far afterwards as even to give directions for
making their beds in the softest manner. On several
occasions Asclepiades used frictions to open the pores.
J he dropsy was one of the distempers in which this re¬
medy w'as used j but the most singular attempt Avas,
by this means, to lull phrenetic patients asleep. But
though he enjoined exercise so much to the sick, he
denied it to those in health 5 a conduct not a little sur¬
prising and extraordinary. He alloived wine freely to
patients in fevers, provided the violence of the distem¬
per was somewhat abated. Nor did he forbid it to
those Avho Avere afflicted Avith a phrensy : nay, he or¬
dered them to drink it till they Avere intoxicated, pre¬
tending by that means to make them sleep j because
he said, Avine had a narcotic quality and procured sleep,
Avhich he thought absolutely necessary for those who
laboured under that disorder. To lethargic patients he
used it on purpose to excite them, and rouse their sen-
Vol. XIII. Bart. I.
t
CINE. 201
ses : he also made them smell strong-scented substahees, Aselcpi-
such as vinegar, castor, and rue, in order to make them ade&, &.c.
sneeze j and applied to their heads cataplasms of must- ' v~—
aid made up Avith vinegar.
Besides these remedies, Asclepiades enjoined his pa¬
tients abstinence to an extreme degree. For the first
three days, according to Celsus, he alloAved them no
aliment Avhatever, but on the fourth began to give
them A'ictuals. According to Cielius Aurelianus, Iioav-
ever, he began to nourish his patients as soon as the ac¬
cession of the disease Avas diminished, not Availing til
an entire remission j giving to some aliments on the
first, and some on the second, to some on the third,
and so on to the seventh day. It seems almost incredi¬
ble to us, that people should" be able to fast till this last-
mentioned term; but Celsus assures us, that abstinence
till the seventh day Avas enjoined even by the predeces¬
sors of Asclepiades.
The next great revolution AA’hich happened in the
medicinal art, was brought about by Themison, the
disciple of Asclepiades, avIio lived not long before the
time of Celsus, during the end of the reign of Augus¬
tus, or beginning of that of Tiberius. The sect found-
cd by him Avas called methodic, because he endeavoured Methodic
to find a method of rendering medicine more easy thanscct
formerly. ^
He maintained, that a knoAvledge of the causes of Themison.
diseases was not necessary, provided avc have a due re-*
gard to Avhat diseases have in common and analogous to
one another. In consequence of this principle, he di¬
vided all diseases into Iavo, or at most three, kinds.
T he first included diseases arising from stricture j the
second, those arising from relaxation ; and the third,
those of a mixed nature, or such as partook both of
stricture and relaxation.
Themison also asserted, that diseases are sometimes
acute, and sometimes chronical; that for a certain time
they increase ; that at a certain time they are at their
height j and that at last they Avere observed to dimi¬
nish. Acute diseases, therefore, according to him,
must be treated in one Avay, and chronical diseases in
another j one method must be folloAved Avith such as are
in their augmentation, another Avith such as are at their
height, and a third Avifh such as are in their declen¬
sion. He asserted that the whole of medicine consisted
in the observation of that small number of rules Avhich
are founded upon things altogether evident. He said,
that all disorders, Avhatever their nature was, if includ¬
ed under any of the kinds above mentioned, ought to
be treated precisely in the same way, in Avhatever coun¬
try and Avith Avhatever symptoms they happen to arise.
Upon these principles, he defined medicine to be a me¬
thod of conducting to the knoAATledge of Avhat diseases
have in common with each other.
Themison Avas old when he laid the foundation of
the methodic sect j and it Avas only brought to perfec- ^
tion by Thessalus, who liA^ed under the emperor Nero. ijijiessajuS
Galen and Pliny accuse this physician of intolerable in¬
solence and Aanity, and report that he gave himself
the air of despising all other physicians j and so intole¬
rable Avas his vanity, that he assumed the title of the
conqueror of physicians, which he caused tb be put up¬
on his tonib in the Appian Avay. Never Avas moun¬
tebank (says Pliny) attended by a greater number of
€ c spectators
Thcssalus,
&c-
39
S’oranas.
40
Ctlsus.
M EDI
spectators than Thessalus liad generally about him }
and this circumstance is the less to be wondered at, if
we consider that he promised to teach the whole art of
medicine in less than six months. In reality, the art
might be learned much sooner if it comprehended no
more than what the methodics thought necessary ; for
they cut off the explanation of the causes of diseases
followed by the dogmatics $ and substituted in the
room of the laborious observations of the empirics) in¬
dications drawn from the analogy of diseases, and the
mutual resemblance they bear to each other. The
most skilful of all the methodic sect, and he who put
the last hand to it, rvas Soranus. He lived under
the emperors Trajan and Adrian, and was a native of
Ephesus.
One of the most celebrated medical writers of an¬
tiquity was Celsus, whom we have already had oc¬
casion to mention. Most writers agree that he lived
in the time of Tiberius, but his country is uncertain.
It is even disputed whether or not he was a professed
physician. Certain it is, however, that his books on
medicine are the most valuable of all the ancients next
to those of Hippocrates. From the latter, indeed, he
has taken so much, as to acquire the name of the La¬
tin Hippocrates; but he has not attached himself to
him so closely as to reject the assistance of other au¬
thors. In many particulars he has preferred Ascle-
piades. With him he laughs at the critical days of
Hippocrates, and ascribes the invention of them to
q foolish and superstitious attachment to the Pythago¬
rean doctrine of numbers. He also rejected the doc¬
trine of Hippocrates with regard to venesect ion, of which
he made a much more general use ; but did not take
away so much blood at a time, thinking it much better
to repeat the operation than weaken the patient by too
great an evacuation at once. He used cupping also
much more frequently, and differed from him with re¬
gard to purgatives. In the beginning of disorders, he
said, the patients ought to endure hunger and thirst:
but afterwards they were to be nourished with good
aliments-, of which, however, they were not to take
too much, nor fill themselves suddenly, after having
lasted long. He does not specify how long the pa¬
tient ought to practise abstinence 5 but affirms, that in
this particular it is necessary to have a regard to the
disease, the patient, the season, the climate, and other
circumstances of a like nature. The signs drawn from
the pulse he looked upon to be very precarious and un¬
certain. “ Some (says he) lay great stress upon the
beating of the veins or the arteries; which is a deceit¬
ful circumstance, since tljat beating is slow or quick,
and varies very much, according to the age, sex, and
constitution of the patient. It even sometimes happens
that the pulse is weak and languid when the stomach is
disordered, or in the beginning of a fever. On the
contrary, the pulse is often high, and in a violent com¬
motion, when one has been exposed to the sun, or
comes out of a bath, or from using exercise j or when
one is under the influence of auger, fear, or any other
passion. Besides, the pulse is easily changed by the
arrival of the physician, in consequence of the patient’s
anxiety to know what judgment he will pass upon his
case, lo prevent this, the physician must not feel the
patient’s pulse on his first arrival: he must first sit down
hy him, assume a cheerful air, inform himself of his con-
C I N E. Histoi
dition ; and if he is under arty dread, endeavour to re-
move it by encouraging discourse j after which he may u—^
examine the beating of the artery. This, nevertheless,
does not hinder us from concluding, that if the sight
of the physician alone can produce so remarkable a
change in the pulse, a thousand other causes may pro¬
duce the same effect.” But although Celsus thought
for himself, and in not a few particulars differed from
his predecessors, yet in his writings, which are not on¬
ly still preserved, but have gone through almost innu¬
merable editions, we have a compendious view of the
practice of almost all his predecessors ; and he treats
of the healing art in all its branches, whether per¬
formed manur victu, vel medicamcntis. His writings,
therefore, will naturally be consulted by every one
who wishes either to become acquainted with the
practice of the ancients prior to the fall of the Roman
empire, or to read medical Latin in its greatest pu¬
rity. # , 41
About the 131st year after Christ, in the reign ofGakn.
the emperor Adrian, lived the celebrated Galen, a na¬
tive of Pergamus, whose name makes such a conspicu¬
ous figure in the history of physic. At this time the
dogmatic, empiric, methodic, and other sects, had
each their abettors. The methodics Avere held in
great esteem, and looked upon to be superior to the
dogmatics, Avho Avere strangely divided among them¬
selves, some of them following Hippocrates, others
Erasistratus, and others Asclepiades. The empirics
made the least considerable figure of any. Galen un¬
dertook the reformation of medicine, and restored
dogmatism. He seems to have been of that sect
Avhich Avas called eclectic, from their choosing out of
different authors what they esteemed good in them,
Avithout being particularly attached to any one more
than the rest. This declaration he indeed sets out
Avith; but, notAvithstanding this, he folloAVS Hippocrates
much more than any other, or rather follows nobody
else but him. Though before his time several physi¬
cians had commented on the works of Hippocrates, yet
Galen pretends that none of them had understood his
meaning. His first attempt, therefore, Avas to explain
the Avorks of Hippocrates ; with which vieAV he wrote
a great deal, and after this set about composing a sys¬
tem of his own. In one of his books entitled, “ Of
the establishment of medicine,” he defines the art to be
one which teaches to preserve health and cure diseases.
In another book, however, he proposes the folloAving
definition: “ Medicine (says he) is a science which,
teaches what is sound, and Avhat is not so j and what
is of an indifferent nature, or holds a medium between
what is sound and what is the reverse.” He affirmed,
that there are three things Avhich constitute the object
of medicine, and which the physician ought to consider
as sound, as not sound, or of a neutral and indifferent
nature. These are the body itself, the signs, and the
causes. He esteems the human body sound, when it is
in a good state or habit Avith regard to the simple parts
ol Avhich it is composed, and Avhen besides there is a
just proportion betAveen tire organs formed of these sim¬
ple parts. On the contrary, the body is reckoned to
be unsound, when it recedes from this state, and the
just proportion above mentioned. It is in a state of,
neutrality or indifference, when it is in a medium be¬
tween, seundaess and its opposite state. The salutary
signs
^ory. M E D I
eI1 signs ?re sucli as indicate present health, and prognosti-
—^ cate that the man may remain in that state for some
time to come. The insalubrious signs, on the contrary,
indicate a present disorder, or lay a foundation f6r sus¬
pecting the approach of one. The neutral signs, or
such as are of an indift’crcnt nature, denote neither
health nor indisposition, either for the present, or for
the time to come. In like manner he speaks of causes
salutary, unsalutary, and indifferent.
These three dispositions of the human body, that is,
soundness, its reverse, and a neutral state, comprehend
all the differences between health and disorder or in¬
disposition : and each of these three states or disposi¬
tions has a certain extent peculiar to itself. A sound
habit of body, according to the definition of it already
given, is very rare, and perhaps never to be met with 5
but this does not hinder us to suppose such a model for
regulating our judgment with respect to different con¬
stitutions. On this principle Galen establishes eight
other principal constitutions, all of which differ more
or less from the perfect model above mentioned. The
four first are such as have one of the four qualities of
hot, cold, moist, or dry, prevailing in too great a
degree ; and accordingly receive their denomination
from that quality which prevails over the rest. The
four other species of constitutions receive their deno¬
minations from a combination of the above mentioned j
so that, according to his definition, there may be a hot
and dry, a hot and moist, a cold and moist, and a
cold and dry, constitution. Besides these difl’erences,
there are certain others which result from occult and
latent causes, and which, by Galen, are said to arise
from an idiosyncrasy of constitution. It is owing to this
idiosyncrasy that some have an aversion to one kind
of aliment and some to another} that some cannot en¬
dure particular smells, &c. But though these eight last-
mentioned constitutions fall short of the perfection of
the first, it does not thence follow, that those to whom
they belong are to be classed among the valetudinary
and diseased. A disease only begins when the devia¬
tion becomes so great as to hindex- the due action of
some parts.
Galen describes at great length the signs of a good
or bad constitution, as well as those of what he calls a
neutral habit. These signs are drawn from the origi¬
nal qualities of cold, hot, moist, and di’y, and from
their just proportion or disproportion with respect to
the bulk, figure, and situation, of the organical parts.
With Hippocrates he establishes three principles of an
animal body j the parts, the humours, and the spirits.
By the parts he properly meant no more than the so¬
lid parts ; and these he divided into similar and orga¬
nical. Like Hippocrates, he also acknowledged four
humours; the blood, the phlegm, the yellow bile and
black bile. He established three different kinds of
spirits 5 the natural, the vital, and the animal. The
first of these ax-e, according to him, nothing else but
a subtle vapour arising from the blood, which draws its
origin from the liver, the organ or instrument of san¬
guification. After these spirits are conveyed to the
heart, they, in conjunction with the air we draw into
the lungs, become the matter of the second species,
that is, of the vital spirits, which ai’e again changed
into those of the animal kind in the brain. He sup¬
posed that these three species of spirits served as instru-
CINE. 20,
ments to three kinds of faculties, which reside in the Galen,
respective parts where these faculties are formed. The
natural faculty is the first of these, which he placed in
the liver, and imagined to preside over the nutrition,
growth, and generation, of the animal. The vital fa¬
culty he lodged in the heart, and supposed that by
means of the arteries it communicated warmth and life
to all the body. The animal faculty, the noblest of
ail the three, and with which the reasoning or go¬
verning faculty was joined, according to him, has its
seat in the brain j and, by means of the nerves, dis¬
tributes a power of motion and sensation to ail tho
parts, and presides over all the other faculties. The
original source or principle of motion in all these fa¬
culties, Galen, as well as Hippocrates, defines to be
JSiaturc.
Upon these principles Galen defined a disease to be
“ such a preternatural disposition or affection of the
parts of the body, as primarily, and of itself, hinders
their natural and proper action.” He established three
principal kinds of diseases : the first relates to the si¬
milar parts; the second, to the organical; and the
third is common to both these parts. The first kind
of diseases consists in the intemperature of the similar
parts ; and this is divided into an intemperature with¬
out matter, and an intemperature with matter. The
first discovers itself when a part has more or less heat
or cold than it ought to have, without that change of
quality in the part being supported and maintained by
any matter. Thus, for instance, a person’s head may
be overheated and indisposed by being exposed to the
heat of the sun, without that heat being maintained by
the continuance or congestion of any hot humour in
the part. The second sort of intemperature is when
any part is not only rendered hot or cold, but also fil¬
led with a hot or cold humour, which are the causes
of the heat or cold felt in the part. Galen also ac¬
knowledged a simple intemperature : that is, when ona
of the original qualities, such as heat or cold, exceeds
the natural standard alone and separately j and a com¬
pound in temperature, when two qualities are joined to¬
gether, such as heat and dryness, or coldness and hu¬
midity. He also established an equal and unequal tem¬
perature. The former is that which is equally in all
the body, or in any particular part of it, and which
creates no pain, because it is become habitual, such as
dryness in the hectic constitution. The latter is distin¬
guished from the former, in that it does not equally
subsist in the whole of the body, or in the whole of a
part. Of this kind of intemperature we have ex¬
amples in certain fevers, where heat and cold, equally,
and almost at the same time, attack the same part 5 or
in other fevers which render the surface of the body
cold as ice, while the internal parts burn with heat
or, lastly, in cases where the stomach is cold and the
liver hot.
The second kind of disorders, relating to the orga»
meal parts, results from irregularities of these parts,
with respect to the number, bulk, figure, situation, &c»
as when one has six fingers, or only four ; when one has
any part larger or smaller than it ought to be, &c.
Tlje third kind, which is common both to the similar
arid the organical parts, is a solution of continuity,
which happens when any similar or compound part is
cut, bruised, or corroded.
C c a Like
204
Galen.
M E D I
Like Hippocrates, Galen distinguished diseases into
1 acute and chronical ; and, with respect to their nature
and genius, into benign and malignant ; also into epi¬
demic, endemic, and sporadic.
After having distinguished the kinds of diseases, Ga¬
len comes to explain their causes ; which he divides into
external and internal. The external causes of diseases,
according to him, are six things, which contribute to
the preservation of health when they are well disposed
and properly used, but produce a contrary eft’ect when
they are imprudently used or ill disposed. These six
things are, the air, aliments and drink, motion and
rest, sleeping and watching, retention and excretion,
and lastly the passions. All these are called the pro-
catarctic or beginning causes, because they put in mo¬
tion the internal causes 5 which are of two kinds, the
antecedent and the conjunct. The former is discover¬
ed only by reasoning ; and consists for the most part
in a peccancy of the humours, either by plenitude
or cacochymy, i. e. a bad state of them. When the
humours are in too large a quantity, it is called a
plethora; but we must observe, that this word equally
denotes too large a quantity of all the humours to¬
gether, or a redundance of one particular humour
which prevails over the rest. According to these prin¬
ciples, there may be a sanguine, a bilious, a pkuitous,
or a melancholy plenitude : but there is this difference
between the sanguine and the three other plenitudes,
that the blood, which is the matter of the former, may
far surpass the rest: whereas, if any of the three last-
mentioned ones do so, the case is no longer called pleni¬
tude, but cacochymia ; because these humours, abound¬
ing more than they ought, corrupt the blood. The
causes he also divides into such as are manifest and evi¬
dent, and such as are latent and obscure. The first are
such as spontaneously come under the cognizance of
our senses Avhen they act or produce their effects: the
second are not of themselves perceptible, but may be
discovered by reasoning : the third sort, i. e. such as
he calls occult or concealed, cannot be discovered at all.
Among this last he places the cause of the hydro¬
phobia.
He next proceeds to consider the symptoms of dis¬
eases. A symptom he defines to be “ a preternatural
affection depending upon a disease, or which follows it
as a shadow does a body.” He acknowledged three
kinds of symptoms : the first and most considerable of
these consisted in the action of the parts being injured
or hindered •, the second in a change of the quality of
the parts, their actions in the mean time remaining
entire: the third related to defects in point of excre¬
tion and retention.
After having treated of symptoms, Galen treats of
the signs of diseases. These are divided into dia¬
gnostic prognostic. The first are so called because
they enable us to know diseases, and distinguish them
from each other. They are of two sorts, pathognomonic
or adjunct. The first are peculiar to every disease,
make known its precise species, and always accom-
■pany it, so that they begin and end with it. The
second are common to several diseases, and only serve
to point out the difference between diseases of the
same species. In a pleurisy, for instance, the patho¬
gnomonic signs are a cough, a difficulty of breathing, a
pain of the side, and a continued fever 5 the adjunct
CINE. Histoi
signs are the various sorts of matter expectorated, oribasis
which is sometimes bloody, sometimes bilious, &c— &c,l
The diagnostic signs were drawn from the defective' r
or disordered disposition of the parts, or from the
diseases themselves ; secondly, from the causes of dis¬
eases } thirdly, from their symptoms ; and lastly, from
the particular dispositions of each body, from things
which prove prejudicial and those that do service,
and from epidemical diseases.—The prognostic signs
he gathered from the species, virulence, and peculiar
genius of the disease : but as we have already spoken so
largely concerning the prognostics of Hippocrates, it
is superfluous to be particular on those of Galen.—
His method of cure differed little from that of Hip-
poci'ates : but from the specimen already given of
Galen’s method of teaching the medical art, it is evi¬
dent that his system was little else than a collection of
speculations, distinctions, and reasonings j whereas that
of Hippocrates tvas founded immediately upon facts,
which he had either observed himself, or had learned
from the observation of others.
The system of Galen, however, notwithstanding its
defects and absurdities, remained almost uncontradicted
for a very long period. Indeed it may be consider¬
ed as having been the prevailing system till the inun¬
dation of the Goths and Vandals put an almost entire
stop to the cultivation of letters in Europe. But du¬
ring the general prevalence of the system of Galen,
there appeared some writers to whom medicine wras in¬
debted for improvements, at least in certain particulars.
Among the most distinguished of these avc may mention
Gribasius, AEtius, Alexander, and Paulus. ^
Oribasius flourished about the year 360, and AvasOribai
physician to the emperor Julian. He speaks very
fully of the effects of bleeding by Avay of scarification,
a thing little taken notice of by former writers •, from
his OAvn experience he assures us that he had found it
successful in a suppression of the menses, defluxions
of the eyes, headach, and straitness of breathing even
Avhen the person Avas extremely old. He tells his OAvn
case particularly, when the plague raged in Asia and
he himself Avas taken ill. On the second day he scari¬
fied his leg, and took aAvay two pounds of blood ; by
Avhich means he entirely recovered, as did several
others who used it. In this author also AAre find the
first description of a surprising and terrible distemper,
which he termed Xvx.xv6^a7ret, a species of melancholy
and madness, Avhich he describes thus. “ The per¬
sons affected get out ol their houses in the night-time,
and in every thing imitate Avolves, and Avander among
the sepulchres ol the dead till day-break. You may
knoAV them by these symptoms : Their looks are pale ;
their eyes heavy, IioIIoav, dry, Avithout the least mois¬
ture ol a tear j their tongue exceedingly parched and
dry, no spittle in their mouth, extreme thirst; their
legs, from the falls and the bruises they receive, full
of incurable sores and ulcers.” ^
AEtius lived very near the end of the fifth, or in the y£tiu:
beginning of the sixth century. Many passages in
his Avritings serve to sheAV us how much the actual and
potential cautery AArere used by the physicians of that
age. In a palsy, he says, that he should not at ail
hesitate to make an eschar either Avay, and this in se¬
veral places ; one in the nape, where the spinal mar-
roAV takes its rise, tAVo on each side of it 3 three or
four
story. _ M E D I
injer. four on the top «:f the head, one just in the middle,
y—o' and three others round it. He adds, that in this case,
if the ulcers continue running a considerable time, he
should not doubt of a perfect recovery. He is still
more particular when he conies to order this applica¬
tion for an inveterate asthma, after all other remedies
have been tried in vain. One, he says, should be made
on each side near the middle of the joining of the cla¬
vicle, taking care not to touch the wind-pipe: two
other little ones are then to be made near the carotids
under the chin, one on each side, so that the caustic
may penetrate no further than the skin : two others
under the breasts, between the third and fourth ribs ;
and again, two more backwards towards the fifth and
sixth ribs. Besides these there ought to be one in the
middle of the thorax, near the beginning of the xiphoid
cartilage, over the orifice of the stomach j one on each
side between the eighth and ninth ribs •, and three others
in the back, one in the middle, and the two others just
below it, on each side of the vertebrae. Those below
the neck ought to be pretty large, not very superficial,
not very deep : and all these ulcers should be kept open
for a very long time.
iEtius takes notice of the worms bred in different
parts of the body, called dracunculiy which were un¬
known to Galen. He seems also to be the first Greek
writer among the Christians, who gives us any speci¬
men of medicinal spells and charms *, such as that of
a finger of St Blasius for removing a bone which sticks
in the throat, and another in relation to a fistula.
He gives a remedy for the gout, which he calls the
grand drier ; the patient is to use it for a whole year,
and observe the following diet each month, “ In
September, be must eat and drink milk : Itr October
he must eat garlic ; in November, abstain from ba¬
thing) in December, he must eat no cabbage ) in Ja¬
nuary, he is to take a glass of pure wine in the morn¬
ing 5 in February, to eat no beef) in March, to mix
sweet things both in eatables and drinkables ) in April,
not to eat horse-radish, nor in Mayt he fish called pohj-
pus; in June, he is to drink cold water in a morning)
in July, to avoid venery ) and lastly, in August, to eat
no mallows.” This may sufficiently show the quackery
of those times, and how superstition was beginning to
mix itself with the art.
Alexander, who flourished in the reign of Justinian,
is a more original author than either of the two for¬
mer. He confines himself directly to the describing
the signs of diseases, and the methods of cure, with¬
out meddling with anatomy, the materia medica, or
surgery, as all the rest did. He employs a whole
book in treating of the gout. One method he takes
of relieving this disease is by purging ) and in most of
the purges he recommends hermodactyls, of which he
has a great opinion. In a causus, or burning fever,
where the bile is predominant, the matter lit for eva¬
cuation, and the fever not violent, he prefers purging
to bleeding, and says that he has often ordered purging
in acute fevers with surprising success. In the causus
also, if a syncope happens from crude and redundant
humours, he recommends bleeding. In a syncope suc¬
ceeding the suppression of any usual evacuation, lie re¬
commends bleeding, with frictions. The diagnostics
upon which he founds this practice are the following :
viz. a face paler and more swelled than usual, a bloated
A!! .ndcr
GIN E. . 2o5
habit of body, with a small sluggish pulse, having long Arabian
intervals between the strokes. In tertian, and much Physicians,
more in quartan fevers, he recommends vomits above '
all other remedies, and affirms that by this remedy
alone he has cured the most inveterate quartans. On
the bulimus, or canine appetite, he makes a new ob¬
servation, viz. that it is sometimes caused by worms.
He mentions the case of a woman who laboured under
tins 1 avenous appetite, and had a perpetual gnawing at
her stomach and pain in her head : after taking hicra
she voided a worm above a dozen of cubits long, and
was entirely cured of her complaints.—He is also the
first author who takes notice of rhubarb; which he re¬
commends in a weakness of the liver and in dysentery.
—Alexander is recommended by Dr Freind as one of
the best practical writers among the ancients, and well
worthy the perusal of any modern. ^
Paulus was born in the island JEgina, and lived in Paulus.
the 7th century. He transcribes a great deal from
Alexander and other physicians. His descriptions are
short and accurate. He treats particularly of women’s
disorders ; and seems to be the first instance upon record
of a professed man-midwife, for so he was called by the
Arabians: and accordingly he begins his book with
the disorders incident to pregnant women. He treats
also very fully of surgery, and gives some directions,
according to Dr Freind, not to be found in the more ■
ancient writers.
After the downfal of the Roman empire, and when Arabian
the inundation of Goths and Vandals had almost phy.’ieiansi
completely exterminated literature of every kind in
Europe, medicine, though a practical art, shared the
same fate with more abstract sciences. Learning in
general, banished from the seat of arms, took refuge
among the eastern nations, where the arts of peace
still continued to be cultivated. To the Arabian phy¬
sicians, as they have been called, we are indebted both
for the preservation of medical science, as it subsisted
among the Greeks and Homans, and likewise for the
description of some new diseases, particularly the small¬
pox. Among the most eminent of the Arabians, we
may mention Rhases, Avicenna, Albucasis, and Aven-
zoar. But of their writings it would be tedious, and
is unnecessary, to give any particular account.—They
were for the most part, indeed, only copiers of the
Greeks. \\7 e are, however, indebted to them for some
improvements. They were the first who introduced
chemical remedies, though of these they used but few, .
nor did they make any considerable progress in the
chemical art. Anatomy was not in the least improved
by them, nor did surgery receive any advancement till
the time of Albucasis, who lived probably in the 12th
century. They added a great deal to botany and the
materia mediea, by the introduction of new drugs, of
the aromatic -kind especially, from the east, many of
which are of considerable use. They also found out
the way of making sugar ) and by help of that, syrups)
which two new materials are of great use in mixing up
compound medicines.
With regard to their practice, in some few particu¬
lars they deviated from the Greeks. Their purging
medicines were much milder than those formerly in
use ) and even when they did prescribe the old ones,
they gave them in a much less dose than the Greek and
Roman physicians. The same reflection may be made
concerning
206 M E D I
Arabian concerning tlieii' manner of bleeding, which was never
Physicians, to that excessive degree practised by the Greeks. They
’—^ ' deviated from Hippocrates, however, in one very trivial
circumstance, which produced a violent controversy.
The question was, Whether blood in a pleurisy ought
to he drawn from the arm of the affected side or the
opposite ? Hippocrates had directed it to be drawn
from the arm of the affected side } but the Arabians,
following some other ancient physicians, ordered it to
be drawn from the opposite one. Such wTas the igno¬
rance of those ages, that the university of Salamanca
in Spain made a decree, that no one should dare to let
blood but in the contrary arm 5 and endeavoured to
procure an edict from the emperor Charles \ . to second
it j alleging that the other method was of no less per¬
nicious consequence to medicine, than Luther’s heresy
had been to religion.
In consequence of the general decay of learning in
the western parts of the world, the Greek writers wrere
entirely neglected, because nobody could read the lan¬
guage 5 and the Arabians, though principally copiers
from them, enjoyed all the reputation that was due to
the others. The Arabian physic was introduced into
Europe very early, rvith the most extravagant ap¬
plause: and not only this, but other branches of their
learning, came into repute in the west insomuch that
in the nth century, the studies of natural philosophy
and the liberal arts were called t/ic studies of the Sara¬
cens. This was owing partly to the crusades under¬
taken against them by the European princes ; and
partly to the settlement of the Moors in Spain, and
the intercourse they and other Arabians had with the
College of Italians. For, long before the time ol the crusades,
Salemum. probably in the middle of the 7th century, there were
Hebrew, Arabic, and Latin professors of physic settled
at Salernum : which place soon grew into such credit,
that Charles the Great thought proper to found a
college there in the year 8025 the only one at that
Consian- t™6 Europe. Constantine the African flourished
tine. there towards the latter end of the nth century. He
was a native of Carthage ; but travelled into the east,
and spent 30 years in Babylon and Bagdad, by which
means he became master of the oriental languages and
learning. He returned to Carthage; but being in¬
formed of an attempt against his life, made his escape
into Apulia, where he was recommended to Robert
Guiscard, created in 1060 duke of that country, who
made him his secretary. He was reputed to be very
Well versed in the Greek, as well as in the eastern
tongues; and seems to have been the first who intro¬
duced either the Greek or Arabian physic into Italy.
His works, howrever, contain nothing that is new, or
material} though he was then accounted a very learn¬
ed man.
State "of From this time to the end of the 15th and begin-
medicine ning of the 16th century, the history of physic fur-
in the istli nishes us with no interesting particulars. This period,
and 16th however, 'is famous for the introduction of chemistry
into medicine, and the description of three new dis¬
tempers, the stveating sickness, the venereal disease,
and the scurvy. The sweating sickness began in 1485
in the army of Henry VII. upon his landing at Mil-
ford-haven, and spread itself at London, from the 21st
of September to the end of October. It returned there
live times, and always'in summer $ first in 1495, then
centuries.
Sweating
sickness in
England.
CINE. Histol
in 1506, afterwards in 1517, when it was so violent Mode ]
that it killed many in the space of three hours, so that y p
numbers of the nobility died, and of the commonalty
in several towns often the one-half perished. It ap¬
peared the fourth time in 1528, and then proved mor¬
tal in six hours} many of the courtiers died of it, and
Henry VIII. himself was in danger. In 1529, and
only then, it infested the Netherlands and Germany,
in which last country it did much mischief. The last
return of it was in 1551, and in Westminster it carried
oft’ 120 in a day. Dr Cains describes it as a pestilent
contagious fever, of the duration of one natural day ^
the sweat he reckoned to be only a natural symptom,
or crisis of the distemper. It first affected some par¬
ticular part, attended with inward he/.t and burning,
unquenchable thirst, restlessness, sickness at stomach,
but seldom vomiting, headach, delirium, then faint¬
ness, and excessive drowsiness. The pulse was quick
and vehement, and the breath short and laborious.—
Children, poor and old people, were rarely subject to it.
Of others, scarce any escaped the attack, and most of
them died. Even by travelling into France or Flan¬
ders they did not escape 5 and what is still more strange,
the Scots were said not to be affected 5 abroad the
English only were seized, and foreigners in England
were free. At first the physicians were much puzzled
how to treat this disease. The only cure they ever
found, however, was to carry on the sweat for a long
time } for, if stopped, it was dangerous or fatal. The
way, therefore, was for the patient to lie still, and not
expose himself to cold. If nature was not strong
enough to force out the sweat, it was necessary to as¬
sist her by art, with clothes, wine, &c. The violence
of the distemper was over in 15 hours *, but there was
no security for the patient till 24 were passed. In
some strong constitutions there was a necessity to re- 1
peat the sweating, even to 12 times. The removing
out of bed was attended with great danger; some
who had not sweated enough fell into very bad fevers.—
No flesh-meat was to be allowed in all the time of the
distemper 5 nor drink for the first five hours. In the
seventh, the distemper increased ; in the ninth the de¬
lirium came on, and sleep was by all means to be avoid¬
ed. However terrible this distemper appeared at first,
it seldom proved obstinate, if treated in the above-men¬
tioned manner. ,
In the beginning of the 16th century, the famous Para ®
chemist Paracelsus introduced a new system into me¬
dicine, founded on the principles of chemistry. The
Galenical system had prevailed till his time} but the
practice had greatly degenerated, and was become quite
trifling and frivolous. The physicians in general reject¬
ed the use of opium, mercury, and other efficacious re¬
medies. Paracelsus, who made use of these, had
therefore greatly the advantage over them 5 and now
all things relating to medicine "were explained on ima¬
ginary chemical principles. It will easily be conceived
that a practice founded in this manner could be no
other than the most dangerous quackery. At this
time, however, it was necessary} for now a new dis¬
ease overran the world, and threatened greater de¬
struction than almost all the old ones put together,
both by the violence of its symptoms, and its baffling
the most powerful remedies at that time known.—This
was the venereal disease, ■which is supposed to have been
imported.
v\ c ve¬
il al dis-
I story. M E D I
derns. imported from the West Indies by the companions of
Christopher Columbus. Its first remarkable appear-
53 ance was at the siege of Naples in 1494, from whence
Aj:arance>t wag goon after propagated through Europe, Asia,
and Africa. The symptoms with which it made the
attack at that time were exceedingly violent, much
more so than they are at present j and consequently
were utterly unconquerable by the Galenists. The
quacks and chemists, who boldly ventured on mer¬
cury, though they no doubt destroyed numbers by
their excessive use of it, yet showed that a remedy for
this terrible distemper was at last found out, and that
a proper method of treating it might soon be fallen
upon. Shortly after, the West Indian specific, guaia-
cum, was discovered : the materia medica was enriched
with that and many other valuable medicines, both
from the East and West Indies : which contributed
considerably to the improvement of the practice of
physic. At this jieriod, as sea voyages of considerable
duration were more frequent, the scurvy became a
more common distemper, and was of course more ac¬
curately described. But probably, from supposed ana¬
logy to the contagions which at that time were new in
Europe, very erroneous ideas were entertained with re¬
gard to its being of an infectious nature : And it is not
impossible, that from its being attended also with ulcers,
it was on some occasions confounded with syphilitic
complaints.
Pijress of ■ The revival of learning, which now took place
111 :ine in throughout Europe, the appearance of these new dis¬
tempers, and the natural fondness of mankind for
novelty, contributed greatly to promote the advance¬
ment of medicine as w^ell as other sciences. W hile
at the same time, the introduction of the art of print¬
ing rendered the communication of new opinions as
well as new practices so easy a matter, that to enume¬
rate even the names of those who have been justly ren¬
dered eminent for medical knowledge would be a very
tedious task. It was not, however, till 1628 that Dr
William Harvey of London demonstrated and commu¬
nicated to the public one of the most important dis-
L 5 coveries respecting the animal economy, the circula-
r).1l vcry tion of the blood. This discovery, more effectually
than any reasoning, overturned all the systems which
bad subsisted prior to that time. It may justly be rec¬
koned the most important discovery that has hitherto
been made in the healing art : for there can be no
doubt that it puts the explanation of the phenomena
of the animal body, both in a state of health and dis¬
ease, on a more solid and rational footing than for¬
merly. It has not, however, prevented the rise of
numerous fanciful and absurd systems. These, though
fashionable for a short time, and strenuously, supported
by blind adherents, have yet in no long period fallen
into deserved contempt. And notwithstanding the
abilities and industry of Stahl, Hoffman, Boerhaave,
C I N E.
a 7 th
■ :Stli
ct
5
very
01 eir-
tu on.
207
and Cullen, we may confidently venture to assert that Moderns,
no general system has yet been proposed which is not1 y—-
liable to innumerable and unsurmountable objections.
Very great progress has indeed been made in explain¬
ing the philosophy of the human body, from ascer¬
taining by decisive experiment the influence of the cir¬
culating, the nervous, and the lymphatic systems in
the animal ‘ economy. But every attempt hitherto
made to establish any general theory in medicine, that
is, to conduct the cure of every disease on a few gene¬
ral principles, has equally deviated from truth with>
those of Hippocrates and Galen j and has equally
tended to mislead those who have adopted it. Many
systems of our own days, such for example as that of.
Brown, though adopted with enthusiasm by the young
and inexperienced, have evidently been attended with
the most pernicious consequences in practice. Indeed
we may with confidence venture to assert, that from
the very nature of the subject itself, medicine does not
admit of such simplicity. No one can deny that the
human body consists of a very great number of differ¬
ent parts, both solids and thuds. It is, however,
equally certain, that each of these is from many differ¬
ent causes liable to deviations from the sound state.
And although some slight changes may take place
without what can he called a morbid affection, yet
we well know, that every change taking place to a
certain degree in any one part will necessarily and
unavoidably produce an affection of the whole. Hence
we may without hesitation venture to affirm, that every
general theory which can be proposed, attempting
to explain the phenomena, and conduct the cure of
all diseases on a few general principles, though for
some time it may have strenuous advocates, will yet
in the end be found to be both ill-grounded and per-,
nicious.
The art of medicine has been much more usefully
improved by careful attention to the history, theory,
and practice of particular diseases, and by endeavour¬
ing to ascertain from cautious observation the symp¬
toms by which they are to be distinguished, the causes
by which they are induced, and the means by which
they are to be prevented, alleviated, or cured. On
this footing, therefore, we shall endeavour to give a
brief account of at least the most important affections to
which the human body is subjected, delivering what ap¬
pear to us to he the best established facts and observa¬
tions respecting each.
But before entering on the consideration of parti¬
cular diseases, or what has commonly been styled the
practice of medicine, it is necessary to give a gene¬
ral view of the most important functions of the animal
body, and of the chief morbid affections to which they
are subjected ; a branch which has usually been namedj
the Theory or Institutions of Medicine.
Theory of Medicine, or an Account of the Principal Functions of the
Animal Body.
WHILE the functions of living animals, hut par¬
ticularly ol the human species, are very numerous, the
accounts given of these both in a state of health and dis-
4
ease are very various. Without, therefore, pretending
to enumerate the contradictory opinions of different au¬
thors, we shall here present the reader with a view of this.
subject,
20S
M £ D I
Functions subject, chiefly extracted from the Conspectus Medieuue
oi'tlieBoJy. Tficoreticce ot 13r James Gregory, who has collected
' v ' from other writers the opinions at present most gene-
, rally adopted.
Division of I’1 this work, which was first published in 1780,
tiie tunc- and afterwards reprinted under an enlarged form in
lions into a-Iyg2j Dr Gregory introduces ins subject by obser-
!i 11 d ^'V u^' v*11 g’ sonie fLincti°ns °f the human body relate
i-al. na U~ to itself only, and others to extei-nal things. To the
latter class belong those which by physicians are call¬
ed the animal functions ; to which are to be referred all
our senses, as well as the power of voluntary motion,
by which we become acquainted with the universe,
and enjoy this earth. Among the functions which
relate to the body, some have been named vital, such
as the circulation of the blood and respiration •, be¬
cause, without the constant continuance of these life
cannot subsist; others, intended for repairing the waste
of the system, have been termed the natural func¬
tions : for by the constant attrition of the solids and the
evaporation of the fluid parts of the body, we stand in
need of nourishment to supply the waste ; after which
the putrid and excrementitious parts must be thrown
out by the proper passages. The digestion of the food,
secretion of the humours, and excretion of the putrid
parts of the food, are referred to this class j which,
though necessary to life, may yet he interrupted for
a considerable time-without danger. This division of
the functions into animal, vital, and natural, is of very
ancient date, and is perhaps one of the best that has yet
57 been proposed.
Distinction A disease takes place, when the body has so far de-
of diseases c]jne(j from a sound state, that its functions are either
und com-0 flu'de impeded, or performed with difficulty. A dis-
pound. ease therefore may happen to any part of the body either
solid or fluid, or to any one of the functions: and those
* may occur either singly, or several of them may be
diseased at the same time 5 whence the distinction of
diseases into simple and compound.
We have examples of the most simple kinds of
diseases, in the rupture or other injury of any of the
corporeal organs, by which means "they become less
fit for performing their offices •, or, though the organs
themselves should remain sound, if the solids or fluids
have degenerated from a healthy state ; or if, having
lost their proper qualities, they nave acquired others
of a difl'erent, perhaps of a noxious nature j or, lastly,
if the moving/powers shall become too weak or too
strong, or direct their force in a way contrary to what
nature requires.
The most simple diseases are either productive of
others, or of symptoms, by which alone they become
known to us. Every thing in which a sick person
is observed to differ from one in health is called a
symptom ; and the most remarkable of these symptoms,
which most commonly appear, deline and constitute the
disease.
The causes,of diseases are various; often obscure,
and some times totally unknown. The most full and
perfect proximate cause is that which, when pre-
59 sent, produces a disease, when taken away removes
Prcdispo- anil when changed, changes it.—-There are also
lu-nt cause. reniote cail5es> which physicians have been accustomed
to divide into the predispvnent and exciting ones. The
SE
' Symptoms,
CINE. The|-j
former are those which only render the body fit for a CauS,L
disease, or. which put it into such a state that it will i>ise ■
readily receive one. The exciting cause is that which '“"P H
immediately produces the disease m a body already dis¬
posed to receive it. J
The predisponent cause is always inherent in the Excii
body itself, though perhaps it originally came from cause,
without; thus heat or cold, a very sparing or a very
luxurious diet, and many other particulars, may operate
as causes 6f predisposition, inducing plethora, inanition,
or the like. But the exciting cause may either come
from within or without.
From the combined action of the predisponent and
exciting causes comes the proximate cause, which nei¬
ther of the two taken singly is often able to produce.— (
A body predisposed to disease therefore has alreadyProxi e
declined somewhat from a state of perfect health, al-tausc
though none of its functions are impeded in such a man¬
ner that we can truly say the person is diseased. \ ct
sometimes the predisponent cause, by continuing long,
may arrive at such a height, that it alone, without the
addition of any exerting cause, may produce a real dis¬
ease.—The exciting cause also, though it should not
be able immediately to bring on a disease; yet if it
continues long, will by degrees destroy the strongest
constitution, and render it liable to various diseases ;
because it either produces a predisponent cause, or is
converted into it, so that the same thing may sometimes
be an exciting cause, sometimes a predisponent one, or
rather a cause of predisposition ; of which the incle¬
mencies of the weather, sloth, luxury, &c. are ex¬
amples.
Diseases, however, seem to have their origin from Here ar
the very constitution of the animal machine; and disci!
hence many diseases are common to every body when
a proper exciting cause occurs, though some people 1
are much more liable to certain diseases than others.
Some are hereditary; for as healthy parents natural¬
ly produce healthy children, so diseased parents as
naturally produce a diseased offspring. Some of these
diseases appear in the earliest infancy; others occur
equally at all ages ; nor are there wanting some
tvhich lurk unsuspected even to the latest old age, at
last breaking out with the utmost violence. Seme dis¬
eases are born with us even though they have no pro¬
per foundation in our constitution, as when a foetus re¬
ceives some hurt by an injury done to the mother; while
others, neither born with us nor having any foundation
in the constitution, are suckled in with the nurse’s
milk. Many diseases accompany the different stages of Disc b
life ; and hence some are proper to infancy, youth, and '
old age. Some also are proper to each of the sexes :
especially the female sex, proceeding, no doubt, from
the general constitution of the body, but particularly
from the state of the parts subservient to generation.
Hence the diseases peculiar to virgins, to menstruating
women, to women with child, to lying-in women, to
nurses, and to old women. The climate itself, underpjs(fg
which people live, produces some diseases ; and every (Yon i-
climate has a tendency to produce particular diseases, mat
either from its excess of heat or cold, or from the mu¬
tability of the weather. An immense number of diseases
also may he produced by impure air, or such as is load¬
ed with putrid, marshy, and other noxious vapours. Th®
same
T
i:ory. M E D I C I N E.
same thing inay happen like'.visc flora corrupted aliment,
20p
Dt
fro:
Belli
mises. whether meat or drink ; though even the best and most
J nutritious aliment will hurt if taken in too great quan¬
tity. ; not to mention poisons, which are endowed with
such pernicious qualities, that even when taken in a
very small quantity they produce the most grievous
diseases or perhaps even death itself. Lastly, from
innumerable accidents and dangers to which mankind
are exposed, they frequently come oft' with broken
limbs, wounds, and contusions, sometimes quite incu¬
rable; and these misfortunes, though proceeding from
an external cause at first, often terminate in internal
diseases.
Hitherto we have mentioned only the dangers which
come from without; but those are not less, nor fewer
in number, which come from within. At every breath,
man pours forth a deadly poison both to himself and
others. Neither are the effluvia of the lungs alone
hurtful: there flows out from every pore of the body a
most subtile and poisonous matter, perhaps of a putres¬
cent nature, which being long accumulated, and not
allowed to diffuse itself through the air, infects the
body with most grievous diseases ; nor does it stop
here, but produces a contagion which spreads devasta¬
tion far and wide among mankind. From too much
er too little exercise of our animal powers also no
small danger ensues. By inactivity either of body or
mind, the vigour ot both is impaired ; nor is the dan¬
ger much less from too great employment. By mode¬
rate use, all the faculties of the mind, as well as all the
parts of the body, are improved and strengthened ;
and here nature has appointed certain limits, so that
exercise can neither he too much neglected, nor too
much increased, with impunity. Hence those who use
violent exercise, as well as those who spend their time
in sloth and idleness, are equally liable to diseases; but
each to diseases of a different kind : and hence also the
bad effects of too great or too little employment of the
mental powers.
Besides the dangers arising from those actions of the
body and mind which are in our own power, there ai‘e
to the patient, hut sdmetimes even producing death Animal
itself
mi
ias
)f the
firs J
others arising from those which are quite involuntary.
I bus, passions ot the mind, either when carried to too
great excess, or when long continued, equally destroy
the health ; nay, will even sometimes bring on sudden
death. Sleep also, which is of the greatest service in
restoring the exhausted strength of the body, proves
noxious either from its too great or too little quantity.
In the most healthy body, also, many things always
require to be evacuated. The retention of these is
hurtful, as well as too profuse an evacuation, or the ex¬
cretion of those things either spontaneously or artifi¬
cially which nature directs to he retained. As the
solid parts sometimes become flabbv, soft, almost dis¬
solved, and unfit for their proper offices ; so the fluids
nre sometimes inspissated, and formed even into the
hardest solid masses. Hence impeded actions of the
organs, vehement pain, various and grievous diseases.
Lastly, some animals are to he reckoned among the
causes of diseases: such, particularly, as support their
life at tfie expence of others; and these either invade
os from without, or take up their residence within
the body, gnawing the bowels while the
person
Solids.
iS yet alive, not only with great danger and distress
Vol. XIII, Part I.
Man, however, is not left without defence against     
so many and so great dangers. The human body is pos- , •
sessed of a most wonderful power, by which it preserves trivva ' ^
itself from diseases, keeps off many, and, in a very short tune.
time, cures some already begun, while others are by
the same means more slowly brought to a happy con¬
clusion. 1 his power, called the mitocrateia, or vis me-
dicatmx natural, is well known both to physicians and
philosophers. This alone is often sufficient for curino’
many diseases, and is of service in all. Nay, even the
best medicines operate only by exciting and properly
directing this force ; for no medicine will act on a dead
carcase. But though physicians justly put confidence in
this power, and though it generally cures diseases of a
slighter nature, it is not to be thought that those of
the more grievous kind are to be left to the unassisted
efforts of the vis meduatnx. Physicians therefore
have a twofold error to avoid, either despising the
powers of nature too much, or putting too great con¬
fidence in them ; because in many diseases these ef¬
forts are either too feeble or too violent, insomuch
that sometimes they are more to he dreaded than even
the disease itself. So far therefore is it from being the
duty of a physician always to follow the footsteps of
nature, that it is often necessary for him to take a di¬
rectly contrary course, and oppose her efforts with all
his might. _ 68
After a general view of the functions of the animal Chemical
body, of the nature and causes of disease, and of the analysis of
powers by which these are to be combated, Dr Gre-tlie. ailimal
gory proceeds to treat of the solid materials of which s°llds
the body is formed. He tells us, that the animal
solid, when chemically examined, yields earth, oil, salt,'
water, phlogiston or inflammable air, and a great quan¬
tity of mephitic air. These elements are found in va¬
rious proportions in the different parts of the body ;
and hence these parts are endowed with very different
mechanical powers, from the hardest and most solid
bone to the soft and almost fluid retina. Nay, it is
principally in this difference of proportion between the
quantities of the different elements, that the difference
between the solid and fluid parts of the animal con¬
sist, the former having much more earth and less
water in their composition than the latter. The co¬
hesion, he thinks, is owing to something like a che¬
mical attraction of the elements for one another ; and
its cause is neither to he sought for in the gluten,
fixed air, nor earth. This attraction, however, is not
so strong hut that even during life the body tends to
dissolution ; and immediately after death putrefaction
commences, provided only there be as much moisture
in it as will allow an intestine motion to go on. The
greater the heat, the sooner does putrefaction take
place, and with the greater rapidity does it proceed ;
the mephitic air flies off, and together with it cer¬
tain saline particles ; after which, the cohesion of
the body being totally destroyed, the whole falls in¬
to a putrid colluvies, of which at length all the vo¬
latile parts being dissipated, nothing hut thd earth is
left behind.
This analysis, he owns, is far from being perfect,
and is by no means in the language of modern chemis-
D (I try.
2ro M E D I
Animal try. But no modern chemist has ever been able, by
Solids, combining the chemical principles ol flesh, to icpro-
» duce a compound any thing like what the flesh ori¬
ginally was *, yet, however imperfect the analysis may
be, it still has the advantage of showing in some
measure the nature and causes of certain diseases, and
thus leads physicians to the knowledge ot proper reme-
dies. .
Qualities of The solid parts are fitted for the purposes of life in
the animal three several ways; namely, by their cohesion, their
solids' flexibility, and their elasticity, all of which are various
in the various parts of the body. Most of the functions
of life consist in various motions. In some the most
violent and powerful motions are required } and there¬
fore such a degree ot cohesion is necessary in these
parts as will be sufficient for allowing them to perform
their offices without any danger of laceration. It is
therefore necessary that some of the solid parts should
be more flexible than others} and it is likewise neces¬
sary that these parts, along with their flexibility, should
have a power of recovering their former shape and
situation, after the removal of the force by which they
were altered.
These variations in flexibility, within certain li¬
mits, seldom produce any material consequence with
regard to the health : though sometimes, by exceed¬
ing the proper bounds, they may bring on real and
very dangerous diseases j and this either by an excess
or diminution of their cohesion, flexibility, or elasticity..
By augmenting the cohesion, the elasticity is also for
the most part augmented, but the flexibility diminish¬
ed ; by diminishing the cohesion, the flexibility becomes
greater, but the elasticity is diminished.
The cause of these aftections, though various, may
be reduced to the following heads. Either the che¬
mical composition of the matter itself is changed ; or,
the composition remaining the same, the particles of
the solid may be so disposed, that they shall more or less
strongly attract one another. As to the composition,
almost all the elements may exist in the body in an un¬
due proportion, and thus each contribute its share to
the general disorder. But of many of these things we
know very little •, only it is apparent, that the fluid
pails, which consist chiefly of water, and the solid,
which are made up of various elements, are often in
very different proportions : the more water, the less is
the cohesion or elasticity, but the greater the flexibili¬
ty 5 and the reverse happens, if the solid or earthy
70 part predominates.
Causes af- The remote causes of these different states, whether
solids *= t'ie predisponent or exciting, are very various. In the first
place, idiosyncrasy itself, or the innate constitution of
the body, contributes very much to produce the above-
mentioned effects. Some have naturally a much harder
and drier temperament of the body than others 5 men,
for instance, more than women •, which can with the
utmost difficulty, indeed scarce by any means what¬
ever, admit of an alteration. The same thing takes
place at different periods of life 5 for, from first to last,
the human body becomes always drier and more rigid.
Much also depends on the diet made vie of, which al¬
ways produces a corresponding state of the solids in
proportion to its being more or less watery. Neither
are there wanting strong reasons for believing, that
not only the habit of the body, but even the disposi-
3'
CINE. Theo j.
tion of the mind, depends very much on the diet we Anin>
make use of. The good or bad concoction of the ah- Solid I;'
ment also, the application of the nourishment prepared '* r L
from it, and likewise the state of the air with regard to
moisture and dryness, affect the temperament of the body
not a little j and hence those who inhabit mountains
or dry countries, are very diflerent from the inhabitants
of low marshy places. Lastly, the manner of living
contributes somewhat to this effect: Exercise presses
out and exhales the moisture of the body, if in too great
quantity; on the contrary, sloth and laziness produce
an effect directly opposite, and cause a redundancy of
fluid.
But, putting the chemical composition of the solid
parts out of the question altogether, they may be af¬
fected by many other causes. The condensation, for
instance, or compression of the particles, whether by
mechanical causes or by means of cold or heat, makes
a considerable alteration in the strength and elasticity
of every solid body. How much mechanical pressure
contributes to this may be understood from the expe¬
riments of Sir Clifton Wintringham : and hence also
are we to deduce the reason of many facts of the high¬
est importance in the animal economy ; namely, the
growth, state, decrease of the body j its rigidity
daily increasing j and at last the unavoidable death,
incident to old age from a continuance of the same
causes.
Perhaps the different density of the solids is in some
measure owing to Nature herself j but it seems to de¬
pend more on the powers of exercise or inactivity in
changing the state of the solids, the effects of whiclf
on the body, whether good or bad, may hence be easily
understood;
Heat relaxes and expands all bodies, but cold ren¬
ders them more dense and hard j the effects of which
on the human body are well known to most people.
Though the body is found to preserve a certain de¬
gree of heat almost in every situation, yet its surface
must unavoidably be affected by the temperature of the
circumambient atmosphere 5 and wre have not the least
reason to doubt that every part of the body may thus
feel the effects of that temperature. \V hat a difference
is there between one Avbo, exposed to the south wind,
becomes lazy and languid, scarce able to drag along his
limbs j and one who feels the iorce of the cold north
wind, which renders the whole body alert, strong, and
fit for action ?
That these various causes, each of which is capable of
affecting the constitution of the body when taken sing¬
ly, will produce much greater effects when, combined,
is sufficiently evident. The experiments of Bryan Ko-
binson, the effects of the warm bath, and indeed daily
experience, show it fully.
It is not yet certainly known what is the ultimate
structure of the minutest parts of the animal-solid j whe¬
ther it consists of straight fibres or threads, whose length
is very considerable in proportion to their breadth, vari¬
ously interwoven with one another, as Boerhaave sup¬
poses ; or of spiral ones, admirably convoluted and in¬
terwoven with one another, as some microscopical ex¬
periments seem to show j or whether the cellular tex¬
ture be formed of fibres or lamina;, and from thence the
greatest part of the body, as the celebrated Haller hath
endeavoured to prove.
The
T1 ory.
Jnal The cellular texture is observed throughout the whole
feids. body : it suiTouuds and connects the fibres themselves,
—1 which are sufficiently apparent in many of the organs j
and slightly joins the different parts which ought to
X have any kind of motion upon the neighbouring ones.
By a condensation of this substance also, the strongest,
and what seem the thinnest, membranes are formed 5
the most simple of which being accurately examined,
discover the cellular structure. This cellular substance
sometimes increases to a surprising degree, and all parts
formed of it, membranes, vessels, &c. especially by a
gentle distension ; for a sudden and violent distension
either breaks it altogether, or renders it thinner. Some¬
times also it grows between neighbouring parts, and
joins those which nature has left free. Preternatural
concretions of this kind are often observed after an in¬
flammation of the lungs or of the abdominal viscera •,
and these new membranes are found to be truly cellu¬
lar. This substance, when cut, or by any other means
div|ded, grows together of its own accord $- but if, by
reason of very great inflammation and suppuration, a
large portion of the cellular texture has been destroyed,
it is never again completely renewed, and an ugly scar
is left. It is even said, that this substance, in certain
cases, is capable of joining the parts cither of the same
body with one another, or of a foreign body with them ;
and upon this, if on any foundation, rests the art of Ta-
liacotius and that of transplanting teeth, lately so much
talked of.
The cellular texture is in some places merely a kind
of net-work, in others filled with fat. Wherever too
great bulk or compression would have been inconvenient
or dangerous, as in the head, lungs, eyes, eyebrows,
penis, scrotum, &c. there it collects no fat, but is lax,
and purely reticulated 5 but between the muscles of the
body and limbs below the skin^ in the abdomen, espe¬
cially in the omentum and about the kidneys, vex-y
much fat is secreted and collected.
An .[fat. The fat is principally a pure animal oil, not very dif¬
ferent from the expressed and mild vegetable ones ; du¬
ring life it is fluid, but of diflerent degrees of thick¬
ness in diffei'ent parts of the body. It is secreted from
the blood, and is often suddenly reabsorbed into it,
though pure oil is very rarely observed in the blood.
It is indeed very probable, that oil, by digestion,
partly in the primte via;, and paitly in the lungs, is
converted into gluten, and this again into oil by means
of secretion } though no glandular organs secreting
the fat can be shown by anatomists. It is, however,
probable, that there are such organs ? and that the
cellular textui'c has some peculiar structure in those
parts which are destined to contain the fat already
secreted, without suft'ering it to pass into other places j
tor it never passes into those parts which are purely re¬
ticulated, although the cellular texture is easily per¬
meable by air or water over the whole body from head
to foot.
The fat is augmented bv the use of much animal-
food, or of any other that is oily and nourishing, pro¬
vided the digestion be good •, by the use of strong
drink, especially malt-liquor} bv much rest of body
and mind, much sleep and inactivity, castration, cold,
repeated blood-letting, and in general by whatever di¬
minishes the vital and animal pow’ers. Much, how¬
ever, depends on the constitution of the body itself;
21 I
nor is it possible to fatten a human creature at pleasure Animal
like an ox. A certain degree of fatness, according to Solids,
the age of the person, is a sign and effect of good
health ; but when too great, it becomes a disease of
itself, and the cause of other diseases. It may always
be very certainly removed by strong exercise, little
sleep, and a spare diet. The fat commonly makes up
a considerable part ot the bulk of the body, and some¬
times by far the greatest part. Its use seems to be to
make the motion of the body more easy and free, by
lessening the friction of the moving parts, and thus
preventing the abrasion of the solids, which ■would
otherwise happen. It is also of use. to binder the parts
from growing together, which sometimes happens*
when by an ulcer or any other accident a part of the
cellular texture containing the fat is desti’oyed, Besides
all this, the fat contributes not a little to the beauty of
the body, by filling up the large intex*stices between
the muscles, which would otherwise give the person a
deformed and shocking appeax*ance. It is thought t©
be nutritious, when absorbed from its cells into the
blood 5 but of this we have no certain proof. It seems
to have some powrer of defending from the cold ; at
least, nature has bestowed it in vei'y gi'eat quantity on
those animals which inhabit the colder regions, as
whales, bears, &c. y.
Those parts of the body which enjoy sense and mo- Vital solids
bility, are called living or vital solids. They ai'e the
brain, cerebellum, medulla oblongata, spinal marrow*
the nerves arising from these and diffused throughout
the whole body, and which are distributed through the
various oi'gans of sense and through the muscles, and
lastly the muscles themselves. Sensation is much more
general than mobility, as being common to all the parts
already mentioned. Mobility is proper to the muscu¬
lar fibres alone : wherever there is sensation, therefore,
we may believe that there are nerves 5 and wherever
there is mobility, we may believe that muscular fibres
exist. Nay, even mobility itself seems to originate
from the connection which the muscles have with the
nerves •, for soon after the nerves are compressed, or
tied, or cut, the muscles to which they ai-e distributed
lose their faculties *, which happens too when the brain
itself, or the origin of the nerves, is afiected. Some
reckon that the muscles ax-e produced from the nerves,
and consist of the same kind of matter. Both indeed
have a similar structure, as being fibrous and of a white
colour: for the muscles, when well freed from the
blood, of which they contain a gi'eat abundance, ai’e of
this colour as well as the nerves } neither can the ner¬
vous fibres by any means be distinguished from the mus¬
cular fibres themselves. Both have also sensation 5 and
both stimulants and sedatives act in the same manner,
whether they he applied to the muscles themselves or to
the nerves. These circumstances have led l)i Cullen
and many others to consider the muscular fibre as being
merely a continuation of nerve. But to this opinion
thci'e are many strong objections •, though there can
be no doubt that the contraction of the muscular fibre
is intimately connected with nervous influence.
It is difficult for us to discover the origin of many
parts of the body, or to ascertain whether they are
produced all at- the same time or one after another :
yet it must be owned, that many of the muscular parts
are observed to have attained a remarkable degree of
D d 2 strength.
M E D I C I N E.
212
74
Sense of
feeling.
External strength, while the brain is still soft anti almost fluid :
Senses, and that the action of these muscular parts is required
"V for the action and growth of the brain. The muscles
are also of a much firmer contexture than the nerves j
and enjoy a power of their own, namely, that of irri¬
tability, of which the nerves never participate. Of ne¬
cessity, therefore, either the muscles must be construc¬
ted of some kind of matter different from that of the
nerves $ or if both are made of the same materials,
their organization must be exceedingly different. But
if the substance of the muscles and nerves be totally dif¬
ferent, we may easily be convinced that much of the
one is always mixed with the other ; for it is impos¬
sible to prick, a muscle, even with the smallest needle,
without w'ounding or lacerating many nervous fibres
at the same time. Since, therefore, there is such a
close connection between the muscles and nerves both
as to their functions and structure, they are deser¬
vedly reckoned by physiologists to be parts of the
same genus, called the gejtiis nervosum, or nervous
system.
After treating of sense in general, Dr Gregory pro¬
ceeds to consider particularly each of the senses both ex¬
ternal and internal. Pie begins with the sense of feel¬
ing, as being the most simple, and at the same time in
common to every part of the nervous system. In some
places, howrever, it is much more acute than in others j
in the skin, for instance, and especially in the points of
the fingers. These are reckoned to have nervoitspapil-
Ice, which by the influx of the Jilood are somewhat erect¬
ed in the action of contact, in order to give a more acute
sensation; though indeed this opinion seems rather to
he founded on a conjecture derived from the structure
of the tongue, which is not only the organ of taste, but
also a most delicate organ of touch, than upon any cer¬
tain observations.
From the sense of feeling, as well as all the other sen¬
ses, either pain or pleasure may arise ; nay, to this sense
wre commonly refer both pain and almost all other trouble¬
some sensations, though in truth pain may arise from
every vehement sensation. It is brought on by any
great force applied to tbe sentient part; whether this
force comes from within or from without. Whatever,
therefore, pi-icks, cuts, lacerates, distends, compresses,
bruises, strikes, gnaws, burns, or in any manner of wray
stimulates, may create pain. Hence it is so frequently
conjoined with so many diseases, and is often more into¬
lerable than even the disease itself. A moderate de¬
gree of pain stimulates the affected part, and by degrees
the whole, body ; produces a great flrtx of blood to the
part affected, by increasing the action of its vessels ;
and it seems also to increase the sensibility of the part
affected to future impressions. It often stimulates to
such motions as are both necessary and healthful.
Hence, pain is sometimes to be reckoned among those
things which guard our life. When very violent, how¬
ever, it produces too great irritation, inflammation and
its consequences, fever, and all those evils which flow
from too great force of the circulation; it disorders
the whole nervous system, and produces spasms, watch¬
ing, convulsions, delirium, debility, and fainting. Nei¬
ther the mind nor body can long bear very vehement
pain : and indeed Nature has appointed certain limits
beyond which she will not permit pain to be carried,
without bringing on ^delirium, convulsions, syncope, or
MEDICINE. Tlieoi
even death, to rescue the miserable Duffcrer from his j'xtcr
torments. Sensi
Long-continued pain, even though in a more gentle’T
75
Pam.
degree, often brings on debility, torpor, palsy, and ri¬
gidity of the affected part. But if not too violent, nor
accompanied with fever, sickness, or anxiety, it some¬
times seems to contribute to the clearness and acuteness
of the judgment, as some people testify who have been
afflicted with the gout. _(-
Anxietv is another disagreeable sensation, quite dif- AnxietJ
ferent from pain, as being more obtuse and less ca-
capable of being referred to any particular part, though
frequently more intolerable than any pain. But we
must take care to distinguish between this anxiety of
which we treat in a medical sense, and that which is
spoken of in common discourse. The latter does not
at all depend on the state of the body, hut belongs en¬
tirely to the mind; and arises from a sense of danger,
or a foresight of any misfortune. The former is truly
corporeal; and derives, no less than pain, its origin
from a certain state of the body. Notwithstanding this
diflerence, however, it is very possible for both these
kinds of anxiety to be present at the same time, or for
the one to be the cause of the other. A very great
bodily anxiety will strike fear and despondency into
the most resolute mind j and mental anxiety, on the
contrary, if very violent and long-continued, may in¬
duce the former, by destroying the porvers of the body,
especially those which promote the circulation of the
blood.
Anxiety, in tbe medical sense of the word, arises in
the first place from every cause disturbing or impeding
the motion ol the blood through the heart and large
vessels near it. Anxiety, therefore, may arise from
many diseases of the heart and its vessels, such as its
enlargement, too great constriction, ossification, poly¬
pus, palpitation, syncope, inflammation, debility, and
also some affections of the mind. It is likewise produ¬
ced by every difficulty of breathing, from whatever
cause it may arise ; because then the blood passes less
freely through the lungs : anxiety of this kind is felt
deep in the breast. Jt is said also to arise from the
difficult passage ol the blood through the liver or other
abdominal viscera.
A certain kind of anxiety is very common and
troublesome to hypochondriacal people ; and arises
Irom the stomach and intestines being either loaded
Avith indigested and corrupted iocd, or distended Avith
air produced by fermentation and extricated from the
aliments. By such a load, or distention, the stomach,
vyhich is a very delicate organ, becomes greatly af¬
fected. Besides, the free descent of the diaphragm is
thus hindered, and respiration obstructed. Anxiety of
this kind is usually very much and suddenly relieved
by the expulsion of the air ; by which, as avcII as by
other signs of a bad digestion, it is easily known. In
these cases the anxiety is usually, though with little ac¬
curacy, referred to the stomach.
. Anxiety also frequently accompanies fevers of every
kind, sometimes in a greater and sometimes in a les¬
ser degree. In this case it arises as Avell from the ge¬
neral debility as from the blood being driven from
the surface of the body and accumulated in the large
vessels: as in the beginning of an intermittent fever.
!r it may arise from an affection of the stomach,
Avhen
1 eory. M E D I
] crnal vlien overloaded with crude, con'Upted aliment 5 or di-
1 jses. stended and nauseated with too much drink, espe-
r M cially medicated drink. As the fever increases, the
anxiety of the patient becomes greater and greater;
remarkably so, according to the testimony of physi¬
cians, either immediately before the crisis or on the
night preceding it ; as before the breaking out of ex¬
anthemata, haemorrhagy, sweat, or diarrhoea, which
sometimes remove fevers. The patient feels likewise an
anxiety from the striking in of any eruption or critical
metastasis. This sensation also accompanies fevers and
most other diseases, when the vital power is exhausted,
and death approaches, of which it is the forerunner
and the sign. It happens at that time, because the
vital powers, unable to perform their functions, cannot
make the blood circulate. But what kind of anxiety
this is, the other signs of approaching death show very
evidently. Moreover, even in the time of sleep, anxie¬
ty may arise from the same causes: hence frightful
dreams, which frequently disturb our repose with sur-
^ prise and terror.
It* ig. Itching, an uneasy sensation, with a desire of scratch¬
ing the place affected, is often very troublesome, al¬
though it seems to be more a-kin to pleasure than to pain.
As pain proceeds from too great an irritation, either
chemical or mechanical, so does itching proceed from
a slight one. Titillation, or friction, of a woollen shirt,
for instance, upon the skin of a person unaccustomed
to it, and of a delicate constitution, excites itching;
as do also many acrid fossils, vegetables, and animals.
Hence an itching is the first sensation after the appli¬
cation of cantharides, although the same, when aug¬
mented becomes painful. The same effect is produ¬
ced by any thing acrid thrown out upon the skin 5 as in
exanthematic fevers, the disease called the itch, &c.
Lice, worms, especially ascarides, irritating either the
skin or the intestines, excite a troublesome itching.
Too acute a sensation over the whole body is very
rarely if ever observed. In a particular part the sense
of feeling is often more acute than it ought to be, either
from the cuticle itself being too thin and soft, or being
removed ; or from the part itself being inflamed, or ex¬
posed to too great heat. It becomes obtuse, or is even
quite destroyed over the whole body, or in great part
of it, from various affections of the brain and nerves ;
as when they are wounded, compressed, or defective in
vital power. This is called anasthesui, and sometimes
accompanies palsy.
This sense may be deficient in a particular prrt, ei¬
ther from the nerve being diseased, or from its being
compressed or wounded, or from the part itself being
exposed to too great a degree of cold;—or from the
scarf-skin which covers it being vitiated, either becom¬
ing too thick or hard, by the handling of rough, or
hard, or hot bodies^ as is the case with glass-makers
and smiths 5 or from the elevation of the cuticle from
the subjacent cutis, or true skin itself, by the interpo¬
sition of blood, serum, or pus j or from the cutis be¬
ing macerated, relaxed, or become torpid, which some¬
times happens to hydropic persons ; or lastly, from the
whole organ being corrupted by gangrene, burning,
cold, or contusion. This senseis very rarely depraved,
unless perhaps in the case of delirium, when all the
functions of the brain are disturbed in a surprising
manner.
CINE. 213
I he sense next to he considered is that of taste, the External
principal organ of which is the tongue 5 the nearer the Senses,
tip ol it, the more acute is the sense, and the nearer* v-
the glottis so much the more obtuse. It must berj,ast^
owned, however, that some kind of acrid substances,
the taste ot which is scarcely perceived upon the tip of
the tongue, excite a most vehement sensation about its
roots, or even in the throat itself. The tongue is en¬
dowed with many large and beautiful nervous papilla,
which seem to be the chief seat of this sense, and in
the act of tasting are elevated and erected, in order to
give the more acute sensation.
Nothing can be tasted which is not soluble in the sa¬
liva, that, being applied in a fluid form, it may per¬
vade the involucra of the tongue, and affect its nervous
pulp ; and hence insoluble earths are quite insipid.
Neither is it sufficient for a body to he soluble that it
may be tasted : it must also have something in it saline,
or at least acrid, in order to stimulate the nervous sub¬
stance } and hence, whatever has less salt than the sa¬
liva is tolallv insipid.
The taste is rarely found to be too acute, unless
through a fault in the epidermis which covers the
tongue. If this he removed or wounded, or covered
with ulcers, aphthae, &c. then the taste, becoming too
acute, is painful: or sometimes, no other sensation
than that of pain is felt. It may be impaired, as well
as the sense of feeling, from various diseases of the
brain and nerves *, of which, however, the instances are
but rare, in some people it is much more dull than in
others ; and in such the sense of smelling is usually de¬
ficient also. The taste is most commonly deficient on
account of the want of saliva 5 for a dry tongue cannot
perceive any taste: hence this sense is very dull in many
diseases, especially in fevers, catarrhs, &c. as wTell on
account of the defect of saliva as of appetite, which
is of so much service in a state of health 5 or by reason
of the tongue being covered with a viscid mucus.
The taste is frequently depraved ; when, for ex¬
ample, we have a perception of taste without the ap¬
plication of any thing to the tongue ; or if any thing
he applied to it, when we perceive a taste different
from what it ought to be. This happens for the most
part from a vitiated condition of the saliva, which is
itself tasted in the month. Hence we may perceive a
sweet, saline, hitter, putrid, or rancid taste, according
to the state of the saliva : which may be corrupted efr
ther from the general vitiated condition of the mass of
humours, or the glands which secrete it 5 of the mouth
itself; or even of the stomach, the vapours and eruc¬
tations of which rise into the mouth, especially when
the stomach is diseased.
Besides the faults of the saliva, however, the taste
may be vitiated from other causes j as, for instance,
the condition of the nervous papillae. This, howeveiy
is as yet but little known to us j for the taste is
sometimes plainly vitiated, when at the same time
the saliva appears quite insipid when tasted by other'
people. .
Physicians, in almost every disease, but especially in
fevers, inquire into the state of the tongue not, indeed,
without the greatest reason: for from this they can
judge of the condition ol the stomach of the thirst, or
rather the occasion the patient has for drink, when, on
account of his delirium or stupor, lie neither feels his
thirst,*
214
79
Smell.
So
Heai-icg.
M E D I
thirst, nor is able to call for drink. And, lastly, from
an inspection of the tongue, physicians endeavour to
form some judgment concerning the nature, increase,
and remission of the fever.
After the sense of taste, tve shall next treat of that
of that smell. Its seat is in that very soft and delicate
membrane, filled with nerves and blood-vessels, which
covers the internal parts of the nose, and the various
sinuses and cavities proceeding from thence. Ihis
sense is more acute about the middle of the septum,
and the ossa spongiosa, where the membrane is thicker
and softer, than in the deeper cavities, where the
membrane is thinner, less nervous, and less filled with
blood-vessels} although even these do not seem to be
altogether destitute of the sense of smelling.
As by our taste we judge of the soluble parts of bo¬
dies, so by our smell we judge of those very volatile
and subtile parts which fly ofi into the air } and like
the organ of taste, that of smell is kept moist, that it
may have the more exquisite sensation, partly by its
proper mucus, and partly by the tears which descend
from the eyes.
Some kinds of odours greatly affect the nervous
system, and produce the most surprising effects. Some
■gratefully excite it, and immediately recruit the spirits
when almost sinking; while some produce fainting,
nay, as it is alleged, even sudden death. To this head
also are we to refer those antipathies, which, though
truly ridiculous, are often not to be subdued by • any
force of mind.
This sense is sometimes too acute, as W'ell from
some disease in the organ itself, which happens more
rarely, as from the too great sensibility of the nervous
system in general, as is sometimes observed in nervous
fevers, phrenitis, and hysteria. It is more frequently,
however, too dull, either from diseases of the brain
and nerves, as from some violence done to the head, or
from some internal cause} or it may proceed from a
dryness of the organ itself, either on account of the
customary humours being suppressed or turned another
way, or from the membranes being oppressed with too
great a quantity of mucus or of tears. Of both these
cases we have instances in the cattarh, where at first
the nostrils are dry, but afterwards are deluged with a
thin humour, or stopped up with a thick one. But
in these, and many other examples, the membrane of
the nose itself is affected with inflammation, relaxation,
or too great tension, by which the nerves, which con¬
stitute a great part of it, must be vitiated. It is evi¬
dent also, that whatever obstructs the free entrance of
the air into the nostrils, or impedes its passage through
them, must prove detrimental *to the sense of smell¬
ing.
The sense of hearing is more frequently vitiated than
almost any of the rest, as having a more delicate or¬
gan, and one composed of many and very small parts,
of which an account is given under the article Ana¬
tomy.—It frequently becomes too acute •, either from
the general habit of the body being too irritable, such
as often happens to hysterical and lying-in-women ; or
from too great a sensibility of the brain itself, which is
not unfrequently observed in fevers, as well as in phre¬
nitis, and sometimes in the true mania ; or it may be
from a disease of the ear itself, as when it is affected
with inflammation, pain, or too great tension.-—-It may
CINE. Theo
be rendered dull, or even he altogether destroyed, so Exter
that the person shall become totally deaf, from the same Sens
causes acting with different degrees of force. This
happens especially from the want of the external ear;
or from the meatus auditorius being stopped up with
mucus, wax, or other matters j or from the sides of
the canal growing together, as sometimes happens af¬
ter suppuration or the small-pox or by the membrane
of the tympanum becoming rigid or relaxed, or being
eroded or ruptured; or the tympanum itself, or the
Eustachian tube, may from certain causes be obstructed)
or some of the little bones -or membranes, or some
of the muscles of the labyrinth, may be afl'ected
with concretion, spasm, palsy, or torpor*, or, lastly,
it may happen from diseases of the brain and nerves,
all the organs of hearing remaining sound. Hence
deafness is often a nervous disease, coming suddenly
on, and going oft’ spontaneously. Hence also it is
common in old people, all of whose solid parts are loo
rigid, while their nervous parts have too little sen¬
sibility.
Persons labouring under fevers, especially of the
typhus kind, often become deaf. When this comes on
along with other signs of an oppressed brain, and a
great prostration of health, it may he a very bad symp¬
tom ) but for the most part it is a very good one, even
though accompanied with some degree of torpor or
•sleepiness.
A very common disease in the sense of hearing is
when certain sounds, like those of a drum, a bell, the
falling of water, &c. are heard without any tremor
in the air, or without a sound person’s hearing any
thing. This disease is called tinnitus auriinn, of which
various kinds have been observed. Eor the most part
it is a very slight transient disorder ) but sometimes it
is most obstinate, long-continued, and troublesome. It
often arises from the slightest cause, such as any
thing partially stopping up the meatus auditorius or
Eustachian tube itself, so that access is in part denied
to the air j w’hence it happens that the latter strikes
the membrane of the tympanum, or perhaps the inte¬
rior parts, unequally, and with too much force. Hence
bombi, a kind of tinnitus, are heard even by the most
healthy when they yawn.
A much more frequent and troublesome species of
tinnitus accompanies many diseases both of the febrile
and nervous kind. This is occasioned partly by the
increased impetus o/ the blood towards the head, with
On increase of sensibility in the nervous system itself,
so that the very heatings of the ax*teries ai*e heard;
and partly from the increased sensation and mobility
of the nerves and muscles of the labyrinth : whence it
happens, that the parts which ought to he at rest un¬
til excited by the ti*emor of the air, begin to move of
their own accord, and impart their motion to other
parts which are already in a morbid state of too great
sensibility.
A tinnitus sometimes arises from any vehement af¬
fection of the mind j sometimes from a disorder in the
stomach j sometimes from a rheumatic disorder affect¬
ing the ears and head ) or from a catarrh, which com¬
monly affects the Eustachian tube. Sometimes, how'ever,
the tinnitus alone affects the patient j and even this is a
disease of no small consequence. These various cau¬
ses, however, both of this and other disorders of the
hearing,
1 icory
MEDICI N E.
215
>ht.
tmal hearhig, arc often very cl i flic alt to be distinguished, as
well on account of the inaccessible situation ol the organ,
as on account of the little knowledge we have of its ac¬
tion. But from whatever cause it arises, both this and
the other affections of the hearing can neither be cured
certainly nor easily, but by the removal of the cause
whatever it may be.
Concerning the nature of the sense of sight, the
reader may consult the articles Anatomy and Optics.
Of this sense some slight disorders, or rather varieties,
are often observed. Those persons are called short¬
sighted who cannot see distinctly unless the object be
very near them. This disorder arises from too great
a refraction of the rays by reason of their being too
soon collected into a focus by the crystalline lens, and
diverging again before they fall upon the retina, by
which means they make an indistinct picture upon it.
The most common cause is too great a convexity of the
eye or some of its humours, as too prominent a cor¬
nea. It is a disorder common to young people, which
is sometimes removed when they grow older. As soon
as the first approaches of short-sightedness are obser¬
ved, it is supposed it may be obviated by the person’s
accustoming himself to view remote objects, and keep¬
ing his eyes off very small and near ones: as, on the
contrary, it may be brought on by the opposite cu¬
stom 5 because the eye accommodates itself somewhat
to the distances of those objects which it is accustomed
to view. But a concave glass, which causes the rays
of light to diverge more than naturally they would be¬
fore falling upon the cornea, is the most simple and
certain remedy.
Long-sighted people are those who cannot see an ob¬
ject distinctly unless it be at a considerable distance
from them. This arises from causes contrary to the
former; namely, the eye being too flat, so that there
is no room for refracting the rays and bringing them
into a focus. Hence this defect is common in old
people, and remedied by the use of convex glasses.
Those are called nyctalopes who see better with a very
weak than with a strong light. It is a defect very
seldom to be met with in the human race, though
every person is sensible of it who hath been long kept
in the dark and is then suddenly brought into the light.
The disease arises from too great a sensibility of the re¬
tina, and the pupil being too open.
The sight is liable to many and grievous disorders.
It is sharpened beyond measure, so that the person
either perceives nothing distinctly or with great pain,
from the same causes that induce a similar disorder
in the other senses j namely, excessive sensibility in
the general habit of body; or a particular state of the
brain common in phrenitis, or even in those afflicted
with fevers arising from inflammation or too great ex¬
citement j though, more frequently from the condition
of the eye itself, one becomes unable to bear the light.
The inflammation of the tunica adnata, and the fore¬
part of the sclerotica, is communicated to the back parts
of it, and from thence to the choroides and i-ctina itself.
Hence the light becomes intolerable, and vision is at¬
tended with pain and great irritation, sometimes indu¬
cing or augmenting a delirium.
The sense of seeing is made dull, or even totally
abolished, by age j the aqueous humour not being
supplied in sufficient quantity, and the cornea and
lens, or the vitreous humour, becoming shrivelled or External
decayed. It may likewise happen from the cornea Senses,
becoming dry and opaque j which is to be imputed to '"l V"
the languid motion of the blood, and to great numbers
of the small vessels being obsti'ucted or having their
sides concreted ;—or from thq crystalline lens becoming
yellow like amber, and the retina itself less sensible^
for old age diminishes every sensation. It is totally
abolished by injuries of the brain, the optic nerve, or
the retina, even though the structure of the organ
should remain sound. This disease is called an aman-
rosis; and is easily known by the dilatation and im¬
mobility of the pupil, the humours of the eye remain¬
ing clear. It is commonly owing to congestion of
blood 5 and sometimes, where no congestion of blood
can be discovered, to mere torpor of the nerves. If it be
only a torpor of part of the retina, we see black spots
in those things at which we look j or flies seem to
pass before our eyes, a very bad sign in fevers, and
almost always mortal. The sight is abolished also by
the obscurity or opacity of any of the parts through
which the rays ought to pass and be refracted 5 as if
the cornea lose its transparency by being covered with
spots 5 or the aqueous humours become corrupted with
blood, serum, or pus 5 or the lens (which often hap¬
pens, and which is called a cataract') becomes of a
gray or brown colour, or the vitreous humour be in
like manner corrupted 5 or, lastly, when all the humours
being dissolved, confused and mixed together, by in¬
flammation and suppuration, either do not suffer the
light to pass at all, or to pass imperfectly and un¬
equally j whence either no image is formed on the re¬
tina, or it appears obscure, distorted, imperfect, and ill-
coloured.
The sight is also depraved, when things appear to
it of a colour different from their own, or even in an¬
other situation and of another shape than they ought
to have. This happens from the humour being tinc¬
tured with any unusual colour, as is said to happen in
some instances of jaundice j or from an extravasation
and mixture of the blood with the aqueous humour.
A surprising depravation also, or constant and perpe¬
tual defect of vision, is not unfrequently observed in
men otherwise very healthy, and who see quite clear¬
ly ) namely, that they cannot distinguish certain co¬
lours, green, for example, from red. Another de¬
pravation is, when, without any light being admitted
to the eyes, sparks, small drops of a flame or gold co¬
lour, and various other colours, are obseiwed to float
before us. This is generally a very slight and tran¬
sient disorder, common to those whose constitutions
are very irritable; and arises from the slight impulse,
as it would seem, on the retina, by the vessels beating
more vehemently than usual. A fiery circle is ob¬
served by pressing the eye with the linger after the
eyelids are shut. The same reason, perhaps, may be
given for those sparks which are seen by persons la¬
bouring under the falling sickness, and increasing to
the size of an immense and luminous beam before they
fall down in convulsions. A similar beam those who
have recovered from hanging or drowning testify that
they have observed: for by reason of the respiration
being suppressed, the vessels of the bead swell and com¬
press the whole brain and nervous parts of the head.
Sparks of the same kind, and these too of no good
omen,
2 16
External
Senses.
82
Vertigo.
►iP*-
M E D I C 1 N E.
omen, are observed in patients labouring under a fever,
where a phrenitis or fierce delirium is at hand 5 and
likewise in those who are threatened with palsy, apo¬
plexy or epilepsy.—A distinct but false perception,
namely of visible things which do not exist, is to be
imputed to some injury of the, brain, to madness or a
delirium, not to any disease of the eye.
A very frequent defect of vision remains to he men¬
tioned, namely, squinting. A person is said to squint
who has the axes of the eyes more oblique than usual,
and directed to different points. Hence a great de¬
formity, and often an imperfect and confused vision by
which the objects are sometimes seen double. It is an
evil for the most part born with the persdn, and often
corrected by those attempts which an infant makes to
see more pleasantly and distinctly 5 and this even with¬
out being conscious of its own defects. It is also easily
learned, especially in infants, even without their own
knowledge, by that kind of imitation which has a
great influence over the human race, especially in their
tender years.—It is by no means, however, so easily
unlearned.
Squinting is frequently occasioned by a spasm, palsy,
rigidity, &c. of the muscles which manage the eye*, by
epilepsy j by certain diseases of the head, the hydro¬
cephalus especially j or by any great injury done to
the head. Sometimes, though very rarely, it conics
wn suddenly without any known cause. It is very pro¬
bable, however, that squinting often arises from a fault
bf the retinae, when their central points, for instance,
and those similarly placed with respect to the centre,
do not agree. In this case there must be a contortion
of the eye, that the object may not be seen double.
This seems also to be the reason why squinting is much
increased when the person brings the object near
his eye in order to view it more perfectly. Or if the
Central point of either, or both, of the retinae be in¬
sensible, or nearly so, it is necessary for the person
to distort his eyes that he may have any distinct
vision of objects. If the optic nerve had not enter¬
ed the retina obliquely, hut passed directly through
its centre, we would all either have squinted or seen
double.
Physicians have referred to the sense of vision that
most troublesome sensation which we call a vertigo;
though it seems rather to belong to that of feeling, or
of consciousness.; for in many instances the disorder is
not removed either in the dark or by shutting the eye¬
lids. The vertigo takes place when external objects
really at rest seem to reel, to whirl round, to tremble,
or to move in any manner of way. If the disorder
be very violent, the person is neither able to see, on
account of a dimness of sight; nor can he stand, as the
powers fail which dught to govern the limbs. A nau¬
sea also usually accompanies the vertigo, and the one
generally produces the other.
This disorder is observed to be both the symptom
and forerunner of some dangerous diseases ; such as
apoplexy, epilepsy, hysteria ; haemorrhages from the
nose and other parts ; suppressions of the menses ;
plethora; fevers, as well such as are accompanied with
debility as those in which there is an increased impe¬
tus of the blood towards the head. An injury done
to the head also, but rarely one done to the eyes,
unless as it affects the whole head,, brings on a ver-
Thm
tigo. A vertigo may he likewise produced by a very jntern
great and sudden loss of blood or other fluid; by de- Sense-
bility; syncope ; various diseases of the alimentary ' ,~
canal, of the stomach especially ; poisons admitted in¬
to the bodv, particularly of the narcotic kind, as opium,
stramonium, wine, Sec. and hence vertigo is a symptom
of every kind of drunkenness. A arious motions also*
either of the head or the whole body, being tossed in
a ship, especially if the vessel be small and the sea runs
high, produce a vertigo. In these and similar ex¬
amples, the unusual and inordinate motions of the blood
are communicated to the nervous parts which are in
the head ; or these being affected by sympathy from
the neighbouring parts, produce a confused sensation as
if of a rotatory motion. Nay, it is often produced
from an affection of the mind itself, as from beholding
any thing turned swiftly round, or a great cataract, or
looking down a precipice, or even by intense thought
without looking at any thing.
Though a vertigo he for the most part a symptom
and concomitant of other diseases, yet it is sometimes a
primary disease, returning at intervals, increasing gra¬
dually, and equally impeding and destroying the func¬
tions of the body and mind. s.
After having treated of the external senses, we shall ^jsmor-
next proceed to consider those properly called internal;
which are the memory, the imagination, and the judge¬
ment. The first is lessened, disturbed, or even totally
destroyed, in many diseases, especially those which affect
the brain ; as in apoplexy, palsy, internal tumours of
the head, external violence applied, fevers, especially
those in which there is an increased motion of the blood
toAVards the head, or where the brain is any other way
very much affected. It is very rarely, hoAA’ever, deprav¬
ed in such a manner that ideas are not represented to
the mind in their proper order ; or if at any time such a
disorder occurs, it is considered rather as a disorder of
the imagination, or as a delirium, than a failure of the
memory. The mind is said to be disordered when the
perceptions of memory or imagination are confounded
Avith those of sense, and of consequence those things
believed to be now present which are really past or
which never existed; or Avhen the sense of the person
concerning ordinary things is different from that of
other people. The general name for such disorders is
vesania : if from fever, it is called delirium. A general
fury without a fewer, is called mania or madness : but
a partial madness, on one or tAvo points, the judgment
remaining sound in all other respects, is called melancho¬
lia. There is, hoAvever, no exact and accurate limits
between a sound mind and madness. All immoderate
vivacity borders upon madness ; and, on the other hand,
a sorroAvful and gloomy disposition approaches to melan¬
choly. gj
Delirium accompanies fevers of many different kinds. Deliiii
Sometimes it is slight, easily removed, and scarce to
he accounted a bad sign. Often, however, it is very
violent, and one of the Arery Avorst of signs, requiring
the utmost care and attention.
A delirium is either fierce or mild. The fierce de¬
lirium is preceded and accompanied by a redness of
the countenance, a pain of the head, a great heating
of the arteries, and noise in the ears ; the eyes in the
mean time looking red, inflamed, fierce, shining, and
unable to hear the light; there is either no sleep at
Ti ory. M E D I
all; or sleep troubled with horrid dreams ; the wonted
11 manners are changed an unusual peevishness and ill-
nature prevail. The depravation of judgment is first
observed between sleep and Waking, and by the per¬
son’s crediting his imagination, while the perceptions
of sense are neglected, and the ideas of memory occur
in an irregular manner. Fury at last takes place, and
sometimes an unusual and incredible degree of bodily
strength, so that several attendants can scarce keep a
single patient in his bed.
The mild delirium, on the contrary, is often accom¬
panied with a weak pulse, a pale collapsed counte¬
nance, and a vertigo when the patient sits in an erect
posture ; he is seldom angry, but often stupid, and
sometimes remarkably grieved and fearful. The loss of
judgment, as in the former kind, is first perceived when
the patient is half awake ; but a temporary recovery
ensues upon the admission of the light and the conver¬
sation of his friends. The patient mutters much to
himself, and attends little to the things around him j
at last, becoming quite stupid, he neither feels the
sensations of hunger or thirst, nor any of the other
propensities of nature, by which means the urine and
excrements are voided involuntarily. As the disorder
increases, it terminates in subsultus tendinum, tremors,
convulsions, torpor, and death. The other species of de¬
lirium also frequently terminates in death, when the
spirits and strength of the patient begin to fail.
The symptoms accompanying either of these kinds
of delirium show an unusual, inordinate, and unequal
motion of the blood through the brain, and a great
change in that state of it which is necessary to the ex¬
ercise of the mental powers. It is very probable, that
an inflammation of the brain, more or less violent and
general, sometimes takes place, although the signs of
universal inflammation are frequently slight. 1 his v.re
learn from the dissection of dead bodies, which often
show an unusual redness of the brain or of some of its
parts, or sometimes an effusion or suppuration.
The state of the brain, however, may be much af¬
fected, and delirium induced, by many other causes be¬
sides the motion of the blood. In many fevers, ty¬
phus, for instance, the nervous system itself is much
sooner and more affected than the blood’s motion ; and
though the morbid affections of the nervous system are
as invisible to the senses as the healthy state of it, the
symptoms of its injuries plainly show that its action, or
excitement, as some call it, is unequal and inordinate.
In this way, too, delirium is produced by several poisons.
Me cho- rX'he pathology of melancholy and mania is much
ji'l j niu‘ more obscure ; as coming on without any fever, or di¬
sturbance in the blood’s motion. Often also they are
hereditary, depending on the original structure of the
body, especially of the brain ; the fault of which, how¬
ever, cannot be detected by the nicest anatomist. But
it is well known, that various diseases of the brain,
obstructions, tumors, either of the brain itself, or of
the cranium pressing upon it, any injury done to the
bead, and, as some physicians relate, the hardness and
dryness of the brain, and some peculiar irritations af-
fecting the nervous system, are capable of bringing on
this malady. And indeed so great are the irritations
affecting the nervous system in mad people, that they
often sleep little or none for a long time.-—Yet even
this so defective and imperfect knowledge of the dis-
Vol. XIII. Part I.
CINE. 217
eases of the brain and nerves, is by no means free from idiotism.
difficulties. For though we know that the brain, or 1 
a certain part of it, is hurt, or that it is irritated by a
swelling, or a pointed bone growing into it, nobody
can foretel how great, or what may be the nature of
the malady from such a hurt : for examples are not
wanting of people wdio, after losing a large part of the
brain, have recovered and lived a long time j there
are many instances also of persons who have perceived
no inconvenience from a large portion of that viscus
being corrupted, until at length they have fallen sud¬
denly down and died in convulsions. S(j
Another disease of the internal senses, quite differ-Idiotism.
ent from these, is fatuity or idiotism. Those are call¬
ed idiots who are destitute either of judgment or me¬
mory, or else have these faculties unequal to the com¬
mon offices of life. A weak memory, however, is by
no means essential to idiotism. For there are some in ¬
stances of idiots who have had very correct and very
extensive memories. A kind of idiotism is natural and
common to all infants ; neither is it to he accounted a
disease j but if it last beyond the state of infancy,
it is a real disease, and for the most part incurable. Jt
has the same causes with the other diseases of the in¬
ternal senses ; although these can scarcely be detected
by the eye or by the knife of the anatomist. It fre¬
quently accompanies, or is the effect of, epilepsy.
Hence, if the epilepsy derives its origin from causes not
seated in the head, as from worms lodging in the in¬
testines, the fatuity may he cured by dislodging these,
and removing the epilepsy. It is not unlikely that the
fatuity of children, and the dotage of old men, may
arise from the brain being in the former too solt and in
the latter too hard ; or perhaps in the one case not
evolved, and in the other somewhat decayed.
Th e muscular power may be diseased in a great num- Disorders
ber of ways. The mobility itself may be too great; ‘n the mus-
but this must be carefully distinguished from vigour.cu^
By mobility is meant the ease with which the muscular1'0"0 *
fibres are excited into contraction. The vigour, on (be
other hand, is that power with which the contraction
is performed. They are sometimes joined, but more
frequently separate, and for the most part the excesses
of each are owing to contrary causes. gg
Too great mobility is when motions are excited by Mobility,
a very slight stimulus, or when very violent motions
are produced by the customary stimulus. A certain
habit of body, sometimes hereditary, renders people
liable to this disease. Women have a greater share of
mobility than men. Infants have a great deal of mo¬
bility, often too great; youth has less than infancy,
but more than man’s estate ; though old age has com¬
monly too little. A lazy, sedentary life, full diet,
a suppression of the usual evacutions, fulness of the
blood-vessels, and sometimes their being suddenly
emptied, laxity, flaccidity of the solids in general, but
sometimes too great a tension of the moving fibres, the
use of diluents, especially when warm, or heat applied
in any manner, produce too great mobility. . And this
may be either general or particular, according as the
causes have been apiplied to the whole body, or only ;:o
a part of it.
Vigour in general is rarely morbid ; although some- Vigour
times certain muscular parts appear to have too great
strength. In maniacs and phrenitics, an immense
^ E e strength
218 MED!
Disorders strength is observed In all the muscles, especially in those
in the which serve for voluntary motion ; this is not unjustly
Muscular reciconed morbid. The reason of this excess is very oh -
. 1 0"C1' , scare } however, it is plainly to be referred to a diseased
state of the brain.
A more frequent and more important excess of vi¬
gour is observed in those muscular fibres that do not
obey the will, such as those which move the blood. Its
circulation is thus often increased, not without great
inconvenience and danger to the patient. But a slighter
, excess of this kind, pervading the whole body, renders
people apt to receive inflammatory diseases, and is usu¬
ally Called & phlogistic diathesis. But this is better ob¬
served when local, as in inflammation itself.
Too great vigour of the muscular fibres may arise
from the nervous power increased beyond measure,
as in mania, phrenitis, or violent affections of the
mind } from too great a tension of the fibres, by
which they more easily and vehemently conceive mo¬
tions, as of the arteries when filled with too much
blood j from catching cold, by being exposed either to
cold or heat, as usually happens in the spring ; or, last¬
ly, though the nervous power and tension of the fibres
should not at all be changed, their action may be¬
come too great, from a stimulus more violent than usual
being applied, or from the usual stimulus, if the fibres
themselves have already acquired too great a share of
9o mobility.
Torpor. The opposite to too great mobility is torpor, and
to too great, vigour is debility. Torpor is such a di¬
minution of mobility as renders the parts unequal to
their functions. It arises from causes directly oppo¬
site to mobility •, such as, a harder and more rigid
contexture of the parts themselves, or even sometimes
from one too lax and flaccid ; from old age } from some
peculiar temperament of body, such as one phlegmatic,'
frigid, or insensible ; too great and incessant labour,
cold, spare diet, and an exhausted body. This evil is
the more to be dreaded, because, the powers of the
body being deficient, nature is neither able to make
any effort of herself, nor are the remedies, in other
cases the most efficacious, capable of affording her any
pi assistance.
Debility. Debility takes place, when the motion of the
muscles, either voluntary or involuntary, is not per¬
formed with sufficient strength. A greater or lesser
share of debility, either general or of some particular
part, accompanies almost all diseases, and is indeed no
small part of them : for it is hardly possible that a
disease can subsist for any length of time without in¬
ducing some degree of debility. When a state of de¬
bility is induced, it renders a man obnoxious to innu¬
merable disorders, and throws him as it were defence¬
less in their way. It often depends on the original
structure of the body, so that it can he corrected
neither by regimen nor medicines of any kind. A
different degree of strength also accompanies the dif¬
ferent ages of mankind j and thus, in some cases, de¬
bility cannot be reckoned morbid. But a truly mor¬
bid and unusual debility arises from the nervous ener¬
gy being diminished ; from diseases of the brain and
nerves, or of the muscles through which they are dis¬
tributed j from a decay of the nerves themselves j from
a want of the due tension of the fibres, or the fibres
themselves becoming torpid ; from the body exhausted
CINE. They I
by spare diet, want, evacuations j or, lastly, from dis- Disor L
eases affecting the whole body, or some particular parts i,lt[ | [
of it. Muse | r
The highest degree of debility, namely, when the, l>ow I
strength of the muscles is altogether or nearly destroy- '{J
ed, is called paralysis or palsy; and is either universal, paiSVi 1
or belonging only to some particular muscles. An
universal palsy arises from diseases of the brain and
nerves, sometimes very obsure, and not to he disco¬
vered by the anatomist j for the nervous power itself
is often deficient, evenwhen the structure of the nerves
remains unhurt ; yet often a compression, obstruc¬
tion, or injury of the vesssels, extravasation of blood or
serum, collections of pus, swellings, &c. are discover¬
ed. It frequently arises from certain poisons acting
on the nerves ; from the fumes of metals j from the
diseases of parts, and affections of the muscles, very,
remote from the brain, as in the colic of Poictou. A
palsy of single muscles, but less perfect, often arises
without any defect of the brain or nerves, from any
violent and contained pain, inflammation, too great
tension, relaxation, rest, or destruction of the texture
of the parts, such as commonly happens after the rheu¬
matism, gout, luxations, fractures of the bones, and
ischuria.
An universal palsy, however, as it is called, seldom
affects the whole body, even though it should origi¬
nate from a disease of the brain. We most common¬
ly see those who are paralytic affected only on one
side, which is called an hemiplegia. It is said that
the side of the body opposite to the diseased side of
the brain is most commonly affected. If all the parts
below the head become paralytic, it is called a para¬
plegia. In these diseases the senses for the most part
remain , though sometimes they are abolished, and at
others rendered dull. Sometimes, though rarely, and
which is an exceeding had symptom, the motion, sen¬
sation, pulse, and heat of the paralytic limbs are lost y
in which case the arteries themselves become paralytic.
A palsy of the whole body, as far as regards the volun¬
tary motions, with anaesthesia and sleep, is called an
apoplexy. This proceeds from some injury of the brain:
though a state very similar to it is induced by narcotics,
opium, wine itself, or any generous liquor taken to ex¬
cess j and lastly, by breathing in air corrupted by noxi¬
ous impregnations, such as a large proportion of car¬
bonic acid, hydrogenous gas, or similar active aeriform
fluids. ;| |
Another disease to which muscular motion is liable, Spas
and that neither slight nor unfrequent, is called spasm.
This is a violent and irregular motion of the muscles.
Of spasms there are two kinds, the tonic and clonic.
The latter is frequently called a convulsion; in order
to distinguish it from the other, which is more peculiar¬
ly called spasm.
Spasm, therefore, is a violent, constant and preterna¬
tural contraction of the muscular fibres ; but a con¬
vulsion.is an unusual and violent contraction alternated
with relaxation. People are rendered liable to spasm
by too sensible a habit of body, or too great mobi¬
lity ; and hence it is a disease common in women, in
infants, and in weak, luxurious, lazy, and plethoric
people. It is brought on those already predisposed to
it, by any kind of stimulus applied to the brain, or to
any nerve, muscle, or nervous part connected with it ^
MEDICINE. 2 iv
of wliicli we have examples in dentition j worms lodged taking food, or indulging venery ; the violent sensa- Disorders
in the intestines, and irritating them ; any acrid matter tion being then quieted, and the body itself somewhat of Sleep.
infecting the blood, or much affecting the stomach and weakened. Cold produces a deep sleep of long conti-  
intestines > the irritation of any nerve, or of the brain nuance, not easily disturbed, and often terminating in
itself, by an exostosis, swelling, too great fulness of the death. Lastly, There are certain substances which,
vessels, pain, vehement affections of the mind, sudden when applied to the body, not only do not excite the
evacuation, or poisons admitted into the body. Fre- nervous system, but plainly lay us asleep, and render
quently, however, the malady originates from slight us unfit for sensation 3 of this kind are those called war-
causes, little known, and not easily observed. cotics, as opium and the like 3 among which also we
Spasm is both the cause and effect, and frequently may reckon wine taken in too great quantity. Lastly,
constitutes the greatest part, of many diseases. It is Watching itself is often the cause of sleep 3 because
often very difficult either to be known or cured 3 he- while a man is awake he always more or less exercises
cause it is so multiform, and produces as many differ- the organs of his body, by which the nervous influence
cut symptoms as there are organs affected 3 of which it is diminished, and thus the more violently the body is
surprisingly disturbs, impedes, or increases the functions, exercised, in the same proportion is the person under a
It is a disease seated in the original stamina of the con- necessity of sleeping.
stitution ; and neither to be removed by slight remedies, Sleep is deficient in many diseases 3 for there are
nor in a short time. few which do not excite pain, anxiety, or uneasiness,
With regard to sleep, its use is sufficiently apparent sufficient to prevent the approach of sleep, or to
from the effects which it produces in the body. It re- disturb it. Fevers generally cause those who labour
stores the powers both of mind and body when ex- under them to sleep ill 3 as well on account of the
hausted by exercise, giving vigour to the one, and re- uneasiness which accompanies tills kind of disease, as
storing its wonted alacrity to the other. It renders the by reason of the impetus of the blood towards the
muscles again active and moveable, after they have be- head being frequently increased 3 and likewise from
come wearied, rigid, painful, and trembling by hard the stomach being disordered, loaded with meat, or
labour. It moderates the quickness of the pulse, distended with drink. Hence also we may see the rea-
which usually increases at night, and brings it back son why many hypochondriac and hysteric patients sleep
to its morning standard. It seems also to assist the di- so ill; because they have a bad digestion, and their sto-
gestion of the aliment 3 lessens both the secretions and mach is disposed to receive many though frequently
excretions 3 and renders the fluids thicker,than other- slight disorders; the slightest of which, however, issuf-
wise they would be, especially in a body endowed with ficient to deprive the patient of rest, provided the body
much sensibility and mobility. Hence sleep is not only be already irritable, and endowed with too great a
useful, but absolutely necessary for preserving life and share of mobility.
health 3 and is a most excellent remedy both for allevi- Want of sleepwill hurt in diseases as well as in health 3
ating, and totally removing, many diseases. and for the same reason 3 hut in a greater degree, and
ant of sleep is hurtful in many different ways, more quickly, in the former than in the latter 3 and is
especially to the nervous system. It renders the organs therefore not only a very troublesome symptom of itself,
of sense both external and internal, as well as those of but often produces other very dangerous ones,
every kind of motion, unfit for performing their offices. Too much sleep, on the other hand, produces many
Hence the sensations are either abolished, or become mischiefs, rendering the whole body languid, torpid, and
imperfect or depraved 3 and hence imbecility of mind, lazy; and it even almost takes away the judgment. It
defect of memory, a kind of delirium, mania itself, pain also disturbs the circulation, and diminishes most of
of the head, weakness of the joints, an imperfect or the secretions and excretions. 'Hence plethora, fat-
inordinate action of the vital organs, quickness of pulse, ness, flaccidity, and an inability for the common of-
beat, fever, depraved digestion, atrophy, leanness, and fices of life.—The causes of this excess are, either the
an increase or perturbation of the secretions and excre- usual causes of sleep above mentioned increased beyond
tions. measure, or some fault in the brain, or a compression
Sleep may be prevented both in healthy and sick of it by an extravasation of the humours 3 or some-
people from various causes 3 such a.s strong light, times, as it would seem, from great debility produced
noise, pain, anger, joy, grief, fear, anxiety, hunger, bv an unusual cause, as in those who are recovering
thirst, vehement desire, motion of the body, meniorv, from typhous fevers and other diseases. In these ex-
imagination, intense thought, &c. On the other hand, amples, however, this excess of sleep is by no means
sleep is brought on by a slight impression on the organs hurtful 3 nor even, perhaps, in those cases where an
of sense, or none at all 3 bv the humming of bees, excess of grief continued tor a long time, or a great
the noise of falling water, cold and insipid discourse 3 fright, have produced a surprising and unexpected seni¬
or lastly, by such an exercise of the memory as is nolency. Lastly, Many people have accustomed them-
neither too laborious nor disturbing to the mind.— selves, and that not without a great deal of hurt to
Too great an impulse of the blood towards the head, their constitutions, to sleep too much. Nor are there
such as often happens in fevers, prevents sleep 3 hut a examples wanting of some who have passed whole days,
free and equal distribution of the blood through the and even months, in sleep almost uninterrupted. . 05
whole body, especially the extreme parts, frequently With regard to the manner in wlncli the-circulation' ucu‘au“t*4'
brings it on. Whatever weakens the body also fa- of the blood is performed, and the various principles
vours sleep 3 and hence various kinds of evacuations, of which it is composed, seethe articles Blood, and
ffie warm hath, fomentations, sometimes heat itself, are Anatomy. As for the disorders to which the blood
useful for promoting it. It also comes on easilv after and its circulation are subject, it has been observed,
b E e 2 >that .
220 M E D 1
Disorders til at in our younger years tlie veins are much more
of Circula- dense, firm, and strong, than the arteries j ^ie
lion. latter, by reason of the continual pressure upon them,
V v ’ arjll the strength which they exert, become daily more
firm, hard, and strong, until at last they equal or ex¬
ceed the veins themselves in strength j and it is not un¬
common in old men to find some part of the arteries
converted into a horny substance, or even into a solid
hone. Hence in the state of infancy the greatest part
of the blood is contained in the arteries, and in old age
in the veins 5 an affair indeed of no small moment, as
it shows the reason, in some measure, of the state of in¬
crease and decrease ol the body. Besides, if any disease
happens from too great a quantity of blood, it thence
appears that it must show itself in young subjects in
the arteries, and in old ones in the veins ; and tnis is
the reason of many diseases which accompany certain
periods of life.
In most, if not in all species of animals, the arteries
of the females are much more lax and capacious when
compared with the veins, and the veins much less, than
in the males of the same genus. The design of na¬
ture in this conformation, is probably that they may
he the better able to nourish the foetus in their womb.
The same likewise seems to be the reason why women
are more inclined to plethora than men} and to this
greater capacity of the arteries and smallness ol the
veins are rve to ascribe that beauty and elegant shape of
the arms in Avomen, not disfigured or livid with veins as
in men.
The blood is also distributed in various proportions
to the different parts of the body, and that proportion
too differs at different periods of our lives. At fust
a great quantity is sent to the head, because that part
of the body is first to he e\rolved and fitted tor its offi¬
ces y but as soon as the parts begin to make a consider¬
able resistance to the ellorts of the blood, and the ves¬
sels cannot easily he further dilated, it is necessarily sent
off to other parts j by which means the rest of the body
increases in bulk, and becomes fitted for performing its
proper functions. The effect of this change is also very
soon observed, namely, when none of the blood passes
through the navel, and of consequence a greater quan¬
tity is sent by the iliac arteries to the inferior extremi¬
ties. These, though so small and slender in the foetus,
increase very suddenly j so that often in not many months,
the child can not only stand on its feet, hut even walk
tolerably well. And during the earliest periods of in¬
fancy, the inferior extremities groiv more rapidly than
any other part ol the body.
Pu’vafionof Physici11113 are wont to ju<1ge of the state of the cir-
tut^uteiles eulation by the pulse, which indeed is very various, as
Avell with, regard to its frequency, as to the strength
and equality of its strokes and intervals.—Its common
quickness in a healthy adult is about 70 strokes in a
minute. In a foetus, perhaps, it is more than doable ;
and in an infant a feAV months old, hardly less than 1 20.
As avc groAV up, this quickness gradually diminishes 5 so
that in extreme old age it sometimes dees not exceed
50, or is even slower. This rule, hoAvever, is not
without exceptions : for many, especially those of an
irritable habit, have the pulse much quicker *, Avhile
others, even in the vigour of their age, have their pulse
remarkably slow. It is for the most part somewhat
quicker in women than in rpen.
CINE. Theo
The pulse is also rendered quicker, both in a healthy
and diseased body, by the application of stimuli of many of Cm
different kinds. Exercise especially, by accelerating hoi
the return of the blood through the veins, increases the r
quickness of the pulse to a surprising degree. Various
kinds of irritations affecting the nervous system, as in¬
tense thinking, passions of the mind, pain, heat, stimu¬
lating medicines, Avine, spices, &c. likewise produce
the same effect. The acrimony of the blood itself also
is thought to quicken the pulse.
When a person first awakes in the morning, the
pulse is sloA\r, hut becomes quicker by degrees on ac¬
count of the many irritating matters applied to the
body. Its quickness is increased after taking food,
especially of the animal kind, or such as is hot or sea¬
soned Avith spices. In the evening a slight fever comes
on, for which rest and sleep are the remedy. These
things, hoAvever, are scarcely to he observed in a healthy
person, but are very evident in one that is feverish,
especially Avhen the fever is a hectic.—Again, even
debility itself often renders the pulse quicker than
usual } because the venti'icle of the heart not being
quite emptied, it is the sooner dilated again, and of
consequence contracts the sooner. For this reason a
physician can never judge of the strength of the circu¬
lation from the frequency of the pulse.
Lastly, In all fevers, however different from one an¬
other, the pulse is found to be too quick, partly per¬
haps from debility, partly from the acrimony of the
fluids, and partly from the repulsion of the blood from
the surface of the body, and the accumulation of it in
the large vessels Avhere it acts as a stimulus 5 though
it must be OAvned, that a great deal of this is obscure,
if not totally unknoAvn 5 nor in truth are we able to
understand in Avhat manner the autocrateia acts Avith
regard to the frequency of the pulse.
The pulse is seldom observed too slow, unless Avhen
the mobility of the body is much diminished, as in
decrepit! old age, or from a compression or disease of
the brain, as is exemplified in the second stage of hy¬
drocephalus } but a greater compression of the brain
usually produces a still more remarkable sloAvness of the
pulse, as in the third stage of hydrocephalus.—Some¬
times also the pulse is too slow in those Avho are
recovering from tedious fevers. But this is a matter
of little moment, and seems to he oAving to some kind
of torpor. Indeed it has generally been considered as
a mark of a thorough and complete solution of the
fever } for it is commonly observed, that Avhen this
state of the pulse takes place, the patient seldom suffers
a relapse.
While the frequency of the pulse continues the same,
its strokes may be either full, great, strong, and bard j
or soft, small, and Aveak. A full, great, and strong
pulse takes place Avhen the ventricle strongly and com¬
pletely empties itself 5 throwing out a great quantity
of blood into the arteries, Avhich fully distends them
and stimulates them to a strong contraction. A pulse
of this kind is common in strong healthy men, and is
seldom to be accounted a symptom of disease. But it
it he too strong, and strike the finger of the person avIio
feels it violently and sharply, it is called a hard pulse.
This hardness is produced by a sudden and violent con¬
traction of the heart and arteries, which distends eA'en
the remote branches, as those of the wrist, too suddenly
and
Ipry.
j trders and smartly, and excites them also to sudden and vio-
0f rcula- lent contractions.
I ; »n- A hard pulse therefore denotes too great an action
u v ' 0f t|ie heart and arteries. It may arise from various
causes: in the first place, from too great a tension of
the vessels ; for instance, from their being too full, and
hy that means more prone to motion, and the more
fit for receiving violent motions. It may arise also
from too great a density and firmness of the solids j
and hence it is most frequent in cold countries, among
strong robust people and such as are accustomed to
hard labour. It may likewise arise from variouscauses
irritating the whole nervous system, or only the heart
and arteries. Lastly, It accompanies many fevers, as
well as most inflammatory disorders, whether the in¬
flammation arises from a general stimulus applied to
the whole body, or from the irritation of particular*
parts, by degrees extended over the whole body. In
such a state of the circulation, the patient frequently
stands in need of blood-letting, and almost always bears
it well.
A small, weak, and soft pulse is generally owing to
causes opposite to the former, and indicates a con¬
trary state of the circulation and nervous system. It fre¬
quently requires stimulants 5 nor does it generally re¬
quire blood-letting, or easily bear it. Sometimes, how¬
ever, a pulse of this kind is observed even in the case
of a dangerous inflammation, of the stomach for in¬
stance, or intestines. 13ut in these and the like ex¬
amples we ought to attend to the nature of the malady,
much more than to the state of the pulse.
The pulse is said to intermit, when the stroke does
not return after the usual interval, and perhaps not
till after twice, thrice, or four times the usual space.
A pulse of this kind seems to be almost natural and
constant in some animals, and is common to some men
even in the most perfect health ; and if these happen
to be seized with a fever, the pulse sometimes becomes
regular, nor can the disease be removed befox-e the in¬
termission has returned.
Moreover, in some people, though their pulse heats
equally while in health, jet the slightest illness makes
it intermit 5 and in others, especially those who have a
great deal of niohility in their constitution, such as hy¬
pochondriac and hysteric people, the intermission of
the pulse is felt, without applying the finger to the ar¬
tery, merely by the uneasiness which they pex-ceive in
their bi-easts during those intervals in which the pulse
is deficient. An intermittent pulse likewise occurs in
many diseases of the bi-east, especially when water is
collected in it; and the like happens in the end of all
diseases, especially fevers, when the strength is nearly
exhausted, and death approaches, of which it is fre¬
quently the forerunnex*.
An intermitting pulse therefore seems to arise from
an unequal influx of the nervous power into the heart,
or from the decay and exhaustion of the nervous power,
by which means the heart is not able to contract till
it has been distended beyond its due pitch. Or, lastly,
It may arise fi*om diseases of the organ itself, or the
neighbouring parts ; from swellings, water, &c. press¬
ing upon them, and impeding the action of the heart:
which is indeed is a very dangerous disorder, and almost
always mortal.
221
Many other variations of the pulse are enumerated Disorders
by physicians, but most of them are uncertain, and not of Circula-
confinned by experience. We shall therefore now con- t*011, i
sider the motion of the blood, which may be either too v
great, too small, or ii-regular.
A quick pulse, cceteris paribus, produces a more ra¬
pid circulation, because the sooner that the ventiiele
of the heart is emptied, the more quickly is the blood
thrown into the arteries j and their actions must an¬
swer to this stronger stimulus. Hence exercise, heat,
stimulants, plethora, every kind of irritation, passions
of the mind, and fever, increase the circulation. The
effect of this increase is a distention of the vessels, a sti¬
mulus applied to the whole body, an incx*ease of heat,
and often a debility. The secretion of sweat is increas¬
ed while the other secretions are diminished, and the
various functions of the body impeded j thirst comes
on, the appetite is lost, the fat consumed, and a dispo¬
sition to putrescency introduced. Sometimes the small¬
er vessels are burst j whence effusions of blood and hm-
morx-hages. But we are by no means to forget, that
this violent motion of the blood, however hurtful it
may seem, is among the best remedies made use of hy
nature in curing many diseases.
The motion of the blood is diminished, especially
hy debility, torpor, the want of irritation, or of exer¬
cise j the same thing happens to all the fluids, if there
he any obstruction in the vessels, or any cause by w’hicli
their I'eturn is hindered or rendered moi*e difficult.
Thus, from the very weight of the blood itself, if a
person has stood long on his feet, the humours i-eturn
more slowly from the inferior extremities. Any disease
of the heart and arteries also, as an aneurism, conti-ac-
tion, ossification, must necessarily obstruct the circula¬
tion. The same thing happens from obstructions of the
veins, or interrupted respiration, hy which the passage
of the blood through the lungs to the left side of the
heart is impeded.
But, from whatever causes this diminution of the
circulation takes place, the bad consequences are per¬
ceived chiefly in the veins, because in them the blood
always moves more slowly than in the arteries. Hence
varices, and congestions of blood, especially in those
parts of the body where the veins are destitute of
valves, and of consequence where the motion of the
muscles cannot assist the circulation. Hence also arise
dropsies from an impeded or languid motion of the
blood j because the i*esistance of the veins being increas¬
ed, the blood is received into them with the greater
difficulty, and more of the thin humour is driven into
the exhaling vessels, and by them, deposited in such
quantities as cannot he reabsorbed by the lymphatics.
These diseases, as well as all others proceeding from
defects of the cii’culation, are also more difficult of cure
than others, because all the vital powers are weakened
at the same time.
Another disorder of the circulation is where the
blood is carried to one part of the body, in too great
quantity, by which means the other parts are depri¬
ved of their due proportion. This irregular distribution,
of the vital fluid frequently arises from a stimulus ap¬
plied to the part itself, or to the brain, or at length
acting on the mind, which, according to the laws of
sympathy, produces a certain definite distribution, ot
MEDICINE.
4
07
Palpitation
222 M E D I
Disorders the Wood. It arises also not vmfrenttently from a spasm
of Circula-taking place in some otlier parts, which drives the
tlon- blood out of its ordinary course.
“ Jn proportion to this irregularity of the circulation
are the consequences; heat, swelling, redness, inflamma¬
tion, rupture of vessels, hemorrhages, effusions, destruc¬
tion, corruption, and suppuration of the cellular texture
and adjoining parts, &c. Even this evil, however,
nature often converts into an excellent remedy; and
physicians, following her steps, frequently attempt to
direct the distribution of the blood in particular diseases,
well knowing that a change in the distribution of the
blood is frequently efficacious either for radically curing
some diseases, or relieving their most urgent symptoms.
Lastly, Some disorders in the motion of the heart
itself, and those of no small consequence, remain yet to
he taken notice of, namely, palpitation and syncope.
A palpitation is a violent and irregular action of the
heart, such as for the most part is perceived by the
patient himself, and that not without a great deal of
uneasiness and oppression at his breast; and it is also
manifest to the by-standers, if they apply their hands, or
look at his naked breast ; the pulse of the arteries in
the mean time being weak, unequal, and intermit¬
tent. This is a spasmodic disorder; and is induced by
various causes affecting either the nervous system in
general, or the heart in particular. Every disease of the
organ itself, such as -a constriction of its valves and
blood-vessels, an ossification, enlargement, or polypus,
hindering the free action of the heart, and evacuation
of blood from it, are capable of exciting it to violent
and unusual contractions. The same eftect will also
follow^ plethora, or too violent an impulse of the blood.
The heart will likewise frequently palpitate from a vio¬
lent excitement of the nervous system, especially where
the constitution is endowed with a great deal of mobili¬
ty. Hence palpitations arise from any affection of
the mind, and in hysteric women. Palpitation may
likewise arise from an affection of the stomach, occa-
sioUed by worms, a surfeit, flatus, or stimulation by
various acrid substances. It frequently also accompanies
the gout when repelled, or even when a fit is coming
on. Sometimes it arises from debility, whatever may
be the cause ; frequently Iron], any difficulty in breath¬
ing; and many of these causes may be joined at the
same time, or some of them produce others.
Hence we may see why the evil is sometimes slight
and of short continuance ; at other times altogether in¬
curable, anti certainly mortal in a longer or shorter
time; why it sometimes returns at intervals, often com¬
ing on and being increased by every kind of irritation
and exercise, and sometimes relieved cr totally removed
by stimulants or exercise.
A syncope takes place when the action of the heart,
and along with it that of the arteries, is suddenly and
very much lessened; whence the animal powers, the
senses, and voluntary motions, immediately cease. This
may he produced by almost all the causes of palpitation;
because whatever can disturb and disorder the motion of
the heart, may also weaken or suspend it. The vitiated
structure of the heart itself therefore, violent passions of
the mind, whether of the depressing kind, or those
which suddenly and vehemently excite, various kinds
of-nervous diseases, those of the stomach, every kind of
3
CINE.
Theor
<>s
Syncope.
debility and evacuation, especially a great loss of Wood, I)isorde;
excessive and unremitting labour, long watching, heat, ot the
pain, many kinds of poisons, &c. produce fainting.
Hence we sec, that whatever weakens the motion of
the blood through the brain tends to produce fainting ;
and, on the contrary, whatever tends to augment that
motion, also tends to refresh, and to prevent the person
from fainting. Hence also we see how the mere posture
of the body may either bring on or keep off fainting, or
remove it after it has already come on. We likewise
sec how this disorder may sometimes he of little conse¬
quence and easily removed; at others very dangerous,
not only as a symptom, but even of itself, as sometimes
terminating in death ; and lastly, how it may he used
as a remedy by a skilful physician, and artificially
induced, either to free the patient from violent pain, or
to stop an immoderate effusion of blood scarce to be
restrained by any other method. „ 99
With regard to the disorders of the blood itself, the IM-co.
glutinous part of it, or, more properly, its fibrine sepa-^uredc,
rated from the red particles, produces that buff-coloured™^
appearance often seen upon blood drawn from people
afflicted with inflammatory disorders, and even some¬
times when no such diseases are present. This crust
indeed is nothing else than the fibrine of the blood
taking longer time than usual to coagulate, by which
means the red particles have an opportunity of falling
to the bottom. This indicates no lentor, density, thick¬
ness, or tenacity of the-blood, as was formerly thought;
but rather its thinness, or at least a less tendency in it
to coagulate. It arises for the' most part from a violent
agitation and: conquassation of the blood within the bo¬
dy ; and lienee it accompanies many fevers, all inflam¬
mations, sometimes haemorrhages, exanthemata, ple¬
thora, pain, and marly irritations. It must, however,
he allowed that in several of these diseases it is render¬
ed highly probable at least, from experiments apparent-
fv accurate, that the quantity of the fibrine of the blood
is really increased in the proportion which it hears to
the other parts. This crust, however, is not always to
he accounted morbid, as it often happens to the most
healthy; and may even be produced or destroyed by
the slightest causes while the blood is running from the
vein, so that frequently we shall see a very thick and
tenacious crust on the blood flowing into one cup, while
that which runs into another has little or none at all.
In general, however, the appearance of this crust shows,
that the patient will hear blood-letting well, though
those have been in a great mistake who have directed
this operation to he repeated till no more crust appear¬
ed on the blood.
The coagulable part of the blood also frequently P1-0"
duces those masses called polypi, which sometimes take
place during life, hut more frequently after death, ni
the large vessels near the heart, or even in the cavities
of that organ. Similar masses also are frequently form¬
ed in the uterus, and are called moles. , ic
The quantity of blood contained in a healthy hotly Pktii
is very various, and difficult to be ascertained. Many
diseases, however, may arise from its being either too
scanty or too abundant. Too great a quantity of
blood is produced by the use of rich, nourishing diet,
strong drink, accompanied with a good digestion;
from a lazy, sedentary life, or much sleep, especially
the
)od.
In don,
T iory. M E D I
I inlers in those who have been formerly accustomed to much
exercise ; with many other causes of the same kind.
It renders the person dull and languid, and sometimes
almost totally oppresses him ^ nor are those organs des¬
tined for moving the blood sufficient for driving for¬
ward such a load. The pulse sinks ; and sometimes a
syncope, vertigo, or palpitation takes place. More fre¬
quently, however, the vessels are too much distended,
and ready to be thrown into violent and irregular mo¬
tions. Hence a disposition to fevers, inflammations, an
unequal distribution of the blood, unusual congestions,
rupture of the vessels, and hannorrhages. Besides this,
in consequence of the close connection between the san¬
guiferous and the nervous system, a fulness of blood
produces a disposition to spasm and other diseases of that
kind.
Hence we may understand why a plethora is some¬
times accompanied with a weak and sometimes with a
strong and hard pulse, why it is the cause as well as a
part of so many distempers, why it is the eflect of a.
high state of health, &c.
The want of a due quantity of blood is no less perni¬
cious than too great an abundance of it. It debilitates
the person, and renders him unable to perform the pro¬
per duties of life ; produces a languid circulation, syn¬
cope, spasms, and at last death itself. In a slighter de¬
gree of the disease the body is emaciated through want
of nourishment, and its functions are vitiated in various
ways. It may arise from want, bad food, or such as
affords little nourishment : from bad digestion, or the
chyle being hindered from passing into the blood : from
fevers, or other diseases which exhaust the body and
hinder nutrition-: or lastly, from- various evacuations,
particularly of blood ■, and that the more especially if
they arc sudden, for in slow evacuations the vessels ac¬
commodate themselves surprisingly to the quantity left
in them. Besides, if the body be slowly exhausted, the
excretions are lessened by reason of the deficiency of the
vital power ; so that the unusual expence is easily com¬
pensated by the unusual retention. But if the evacua¬
tion happens to be very sudden and great, it may either
prove mortal in a short time, or break the constitution
to a degree beyond recovery.
^ By a great and long-continued deficiency of blood
the quality of it also is impaired j because the thin part
of it is easily and soon made up ; but the glutinous,
and red part, not so easily. Hence the blood becomes
thin, pale, scarcely capable of coagulation, or of af¬
fording a proper support to the body. Too great thin¬
ness of the blood also proceeds from using much drink,
especially of the aqueous kind, slender and unnutritious
diet, a bad digestion in the stomach ; from diseases of
the lungs and those organs which elaborate the red
port; or from suppression of the usual evacuations of
thin humours, as sweat or urine, induced by-cold, a
fault ol the secreting organs, or from putrescency.
But along with this, other disorder's of the blood
concur.
A too thin and watery blood makes the face pale,
tue body weak and languid. The solid parts become
flaccid from want of nourishment, and having too great
a quantity of water in their composition. It brings on
hydropic effusions of water in all parts of the body, by
reason of the increased exhalation of that thin fluid
wurch moistens all the inwrard parts 5 partly by reason
223
Disorders
of the
Blood.
oa
Ml id
till ,’ss of
th<
C I N E.
of the vessels being relaxed beyond their usual pitch,
anu not making a proper resistance. Besides, in this
case, the lymphatics are so far from absorbing more
than usual, that, partaking likewise of the general de- v-J
bility, they are scarcely fitted for performing their pro¬
per offices.
Nature, however, has taken care, by the most simple
means, to provide against so many and so great evils ;
for neither does the blood so easily become thin as some
have imagined, nor when this quality takes place does
it want a proper remedy. For almost instantly, if the
person be otherwise in health, the excretions of wa¬
tery matters are greatly augmented, and the whole
mass ol blood in a short time becomes as thick as for¬
merly. . _ 103
The opposite to this, namely, too great a thickness of H01'tdd
the blood, though often spoken of by physicians, is very 01
rarely if ever observed ; and those fevers and inflamma- 001
tions which have been thought to arise from thence,
are now found to originate from other causes. The
following would seem to be the law of the human con¬
stitution. As soon as the blood has attained the due
degree of thickness, or gone in the least beyond it, the
excretions are either suppi-essed or diminished, the body
attracts more moisture from the air, the person is thirsty,
and drinks as much as is necessary for diluting the blood.
But if water he wanting, and the person cannot satisfy
his thirst,then the blood is so. far from being thicken¬
ed, that by reason of a putrescency begun or augmented,
it is much dissolved, becomes acrid, and is with diffi¬
culty contained in the vessels. 104:
The acrimony of the fluids has afforded a large Acrimony
field for declamation to speculative physicians, and
upon this slender foundation many perplexed and in¬
tricate theories have been built. It is certain indeed,
that the blood in a state of health has some small share
of acrimony } and this acrimony, from certain causes,
may be a little increased so as to produce various dis¬
eases of a dangerous nature. This we are assured of
from the increase of motion in the heart and arteries,
and the similar augmentation of the action of the se¬
cretory organs, when certain acrid substances arc taken
inwardly. The same thing also appears from the un¬
usual acrimony of the secreted fluids in such cases, by
which the vessels are sometimes greatly stimulated, and
sometimes even quite eroded. Very many acrid sub¬
stances, however, are daily taken into the stomach 5 so
that these must either be corrected in the primee vice,
or changed by digestion before they pass into the blood;
or at least by dilution with much water, or being blunt¬
ed by an admixture with gluten, oil, or differeut gases,
they must deposit much of their acrimony, and at last
be thrown out of the body as noxious substances. rIhus
a vast quantity of salts, acid, alkaline, and neutral, may
pass through the body, without in the least affecting
the health ; though these salts, il taken in vei*y large
quantity, undiluted, or not thrown out of the body,
will do much hurt.
Moreover, even while life continues, putrefaction is
going on, and produces much of that substance called
animal salt; for into this a great part of our food is
converted, and passes off by urine. But if this pu¬
trescent disposition he too great, it will produce too
large a quantity of animal salt; especially if much of
any saline substance is otherwise thrown into the body
without
224-
Disorders
of the
Blood.
M EDI
without propci* dilution : and this kind of disease is
well known to sailors who have been long at sea,
without having an opportunity of getting fresh provi¬
sions.
For this spontaneous putrescency, nature has sug¬
gested a proper remedy, namely, fresh meat, especially
of the vegetable and acescent kind, and such as is much
impregnated with acid, which it may impart to the
body. But where this kind of food is wanting, the pu¬
trefaction goes on apace, and a very great thinness and
acrimony of the juices take place ; especially if there be
also a scarcity of urine, or the excretions which ought
to carry the putrid matters out of the body languish,
either from cold, sloth, torpor, depressing passions of the
mind, or from the constitution being broken by dis¬
eases j or, lastlv, from too great heat, which aiwa^s fa¬
vours putrefaction.
Besides, it would seem, that sometimes a disposition
to putrefaction is much increased by the reception of a
putrid ferment into the body; of which we have exam¬
ples in some infectious fevers, where the contagion
Very much assisted by heat, animal diet, certain kinds
of salts, debility and nastiness.
Lastly, Any single part of the body may putrefy
from various causes, as from inflammation, cold, &c.
and thus may the whole body be infected;. although
for the most part the disease proves fatal before the
corruption has spread over the whole body.
But when the mass of blood begins to putrefy great¬
ly, it not only becomes very acrid, but thin, also, so
that it either will not coagulate at all, or shows only
a slight and very loose crassamentum. Nay, even the
red globules are broken down and destroyed ; in which
case it necessarily follows, that the blood must become
very acrid, as well on account of the evolution of the
salt, as by reason of the rancid and putrid gluten, which
stimulates, and frequently even erodes, the vessels , pro¬
ducing spots, first red, then livid and black, tumours,
and ulcers scarce possible to be cured, without first re¬
moving the putrescent disposition of the humours. I rom
the same causes proceed haemorrhages from every part
of the body, hardly to be restrained ; a most intolerable
fetor of the breath and all the excrementsthe highest
debility and laxity of the solids } the putrefaction acting
as a poison to the nervous system, and at length bring¬
ing on death.
An acrimony of the acid kind never takes place in
the human blood, nor in any of the humours secreted
from it; though one of them, namely the milk, turns
acid spontaneously in a very short time after it is drawn
from the breast. Neither does an alkaline acrimony
seem ever to take place in the blood. Putrescency
indeed tends this way, and at last terminates in it; but
scarcely while the person lives, though the nature cf
the urine, even while recent, seems to be but little dis¬
tant from that of an alkali.
Many kinds of acrimony may exist in the blood
from too liberal an use of spices, wine, spirits, &c. but
of these we know nothing certain. We well know,
however, that the body is often infected with various
kinds of morbid acrimony, which bring on many and
dangerous diseases, as the small-pox, measles, cancers,
lues venerea, &c. of which the origin and manner
of acting are very little understood, though the effects
are abundantly evident. In most cases, nature has taken
CINE. Theor
no less cure to provide against the acrimony than against Dfc,*
the too great viscidity of the blood. Sometimes an of Kcspi
antidote is afforded, either by the excitement of thirst, bon.
that the acrid substance may be diluted with plenty of
drink 5 or by increasing the evacuations, that it may
he thrown out of the body ; or lastly, by exciting va¬
rious motions and actions of the vital powers, by
which it may be either subdued, changed, renoered in¬
nocent, or expelled from the body by new and unwont¬
ed passages. _ 105
With regard to respiration, it may be obstructed from Respiia.
various causes seated either in the lungs themselves or bon.
the surrounding parts. But from whatever cause this
obstruction may arise, it undoubtedly produces all those
diseases which proceed from an interrupted circulation.
The lungs themselves also being at length compressed,
and not suffered to dilate sufficiently, cannot throw off
the vapour* which arises from them } and hence they
are frequently oppressed With moisture. At the same
time they are irritated, so that a greater quantity of
mucus, and that of a thicker kind than usual, is secret¬
ed ; by which means the passages through which the
air enters them are stopped up, till a violent cough at
length throws off the load.
The respiration is also subjected to some other disor¬
ders, as a cough and sneezing, which, though at first
sight they may seem very dangerous, are not destitute
of use, and may even he reckoned among the most sa¬
lutary attempts of nature to relieve the patient. Of¬
ten, however, they are attended with danger, or
very great uneasiness 5 namely, when they are either
too violent or exerted in vain. At any rate, it is ne¬
cessary for a physician to know the nature, causes,
and effects of these, that he may be enabled to pro¬
mote them when necessary, to moderate them when
too violent, and to stop them when noxious or of no
use. 1:
A cough is a violent, frequently involuntary, andcougl
sonorous exspiration, suddenly expelling the air with
great force through the glottis somewhat contracted.
The convulsion of the muscles serving for exspiration,
gives a great force to the air, while the contraction ol
the glottis produces the sound. It is often long conti¬
nued, being repeated at certain intervals, during each
of which the inspiration is imperfect and obstructed
by reason of the Contraction of the glottis. It is ex¬
cited by any kind of acrid substance, either chemically
or mechanically applied to those passages through
which the air enters. These are lined with a mem¬
brane so exceedingly delicate and impatient ol stimu¬
lus, that it cannot even bear the touch of the mildest
substance, such as a small drop of water, without throw¬
ing the muscles serving for exspiration into a violent
convulsion; the glottis at the same time contracting
by means of the sympathy between it and the neigh¬
bouring parts. Thus the air is thrown out with such
violence, that it drives the irritating substance along
with it; and thus a cough becomes not only useful,
but absolutely necessary for the preservation of life, as
being able to free the lungs from every kind of irrita¬
ting substance or foulness, which might soon bring on
a suffocation. Hence a cough is almost an inseparable
companion of every inflammation of the lungs, as well
as every difficulty in respiration ; and even frequently
accompanies the entrance of the purest air when the
trachea
Tlory.
Riders trachea anti bronchia:: are excoriated, or become too
0f iiliira- sensible. Examples also are not wanting, where avio-
1 *• lent and troublesome cough has arisen from an irrita-
bility of the nervous system, or even of some particular
part, of the ear, for instance, the stomach and intestines,
the liver by inflammation, &c.
Coughing may also be voluntarily excited, and may
then be managed at pleasure. Even when involuntary,
it may be moderated, or suppressed, by a contrary ef¬
fort : though a violent fit of coughing cannot by any
means be resisted. When it is once excited, the cough
goes on till the irritating substance be expelled, or the
sense of irritation abolished, or perhaps overcome by a
more uneasy sensation than even the cough itself; af¬
ter which the irritation again returning at a certain
interval, the cough also returns. Hence we are taught
a method of allaying and quieting this most troublesome
malady, though frequently it is not in our power to re¬
move the cause of it altogether.
A very violent cough is often dangerous : For by
the retention of the breath, and the strong efforts made
in coughing, a great quantity of blood is collected in
the lungs, of which the vessels are distended, and fre¬
quently broken $ and hence there sometimes happens a
violent and even fatal haemorrhage. More frequently,
however, it is the cause of a slower, though equally fa¬
tal, disease. Nay, a frequent and troublesome cough,
without any great haemorrhage, or even without any
haemorrhage at all, may injure the lungs to such a
degree, especially if they be of a more tender structure
than usual, as to lay the foundation of a phthisis almost
always incurable.
Again, by a long-continued and violent cough, the
passage of the blood through the lungs being impeded,
it must necessarily flow through the veins towards the
head: hence redness and lividness in the countenance,
haemorrhages, palsies, apoplexies, and sometimes fatal
convulsions. Lastly, by a violent cough the abdominal
viscera are compressed with remarkable violence j and
if any part happens to be w'eaker than usual, a hernia,
prolapsus uteri, abortion, or similar accidents, may hap¬
pen.
Even when the cough is more gentle, if it happens
to be importunate and frequent, although wTe have no¬
thing of this kind to fear, yet the patient is by no
means free from danger; as he is thereby agitated, fa¬
tigued, has his constitution broken, is deprived of rest,
has a fever brought upon him, his lungs are shaken
and irritated, digestion and all the other functions are
impeded, till at last he sinks under a comjdication of
7 maladies.
1Do- Sneezing is somewhat similar to cough, as consisting
of a very full inspiration, to which succeeds a most
violent exspiration, by which the air is driven out
through the nostrils with immense violence, and sweeps
the passage through them as it goes out. It is a con¬
vulsion much more violent than a cough, and is besides
very difficult to be stopped when once a propensity to
it has taken place. As a cough proceeds from an iri-
tation of the glottis, trachea, bronchia, and lungs, so
sneezing arises from an irritation of the membrane of
the nostrils, but rarely from sympathy with any distant
part. It is sometimes of service, as well as a cough ;
though it is also sometimes prejudicial, for the. reasons
'which have been already assigned.
Vol. XIII. Tart I. '
225
The last affections of which we shall here speak, are Disorders
those arising from a bad digestion, disordered motion of Diges-
of the intestines, and some of the principal secretions. ti°n-
I he first of these are sometimes very troublesome, v
though seldom dangex-ous. The principal symptoms are froS
oppression, anxiety, pain at the stomach ; eructations, Digestion,
by reason of air extricated from the fermenting ali¬
ments, and irritating the stomach ; nausea and vomi¬
ting, from the irritation and distention of the same or¬
gan ; the belly sometimes too costive,, and sometimes
too loose ; a defect of nourishment; a general debility ;
relaxation of the solid parts ; too great thinness of the
fluids; all the functions impeded; pain of the head ;
vertigo, syncope, asthma, palpitation ; great sinking
of the spirits, especially if the patient has been of
a peculiar constitution ; sometimes the gout, some¬
times a dropsy, or a slow fever which may prove
fatal.
The motion of the intestines may be either too great Costiveness,
or too little ; and hence proceeds either costiveness or
looseness. The former is frequently not to be account¬
ed morbid ; but, when it is, it may arise from the
structure of the intestines being injured, or from their
being shut up or obstructed by spasm or otherwise, oi*
from a deficiency of those humours which moisten the
intestines ; or, it may arise from mere debility, from a
palsy of the fibres, jierhaps, or from a deficiency of the
usual stimulus, of the bile, for instance, or from too
dry or slender a diet.
The consequences of long-continued costiveness, are,
first, an affection of the alimentary canal, and then of
the whole body. The stomach is diseased, aijd does
not digest the aliments properly ; the whole body is
left destitute of its usual stimulus ; the blood is cor¬
rupted, perhaps from the resorption of the putrid mat¬
ter into it. The circulation through the abdominal
viscera is impeded ; hence frequent and irregular con¬
gestions, varices of the veins, hsemorrhoids, See. Nay,
the intestines themselves being overloaded, distended
and irritated by an heavy, acrid, and putrid load of
aliment or other matters, are excited to new and un¬
usual contractions, which, if they do not get the bet¬
ter of the obstruction, bring on tormina, colic, or an
iliac passion, inflammation and gangrene, fatal in a very
short time. II0
. Looseness, or diarrhoea, is a malady extremely com-looseness,
mon ; being sometimes a primary disease, and some¬
times only a symptom or an effect of others. Some¬
times it is a salutary effort of nature, such as the
physician ought to imitate and bring on by art. It
is also familiar to infants, and to people of a certain
constitution ; and to them costiveness is very prejudi¬
cial. It may arise, in the first place, from something
taken into the body, or generated in the intestines;
from a fermentation and corruption of the mass of ali¬
ments ; from the bile being too abundant and acrid, or
from blood or pus poured into the intestines ; from the
intestines themselves being eroded, or deprived of their
natural mucus; from the humours being driven from
the surface of the body towards the inward parts, as
by cold, especially when applied to the feet; or from
a general corruption of the whole body, as in the
phthisis, hectic, or putrid fever, especially towards the
end of these disorders. In fevers it is sometimes salu¬
tary, or even puts an end to the disease altogether, or
MEDICINE.
226 M EDI'
Disorders at least renders it milder more frequently, however,
of the Ali- deriving its origin from putrescency, it is of no ser-
mentury vj[ce> }iV,t rather exhausts the strength of the patient.
. (-anal- , \ diarrhoea likewise, almost incurable, and often fatal
 ’ in a short time, frequently arises after the operation
for the fistula in ano. Some have their intestines so
extremely weak and moveable, that from the slightest
cause, such as catching cold, any violent commotion
of the mind, &c. they are subject to a violent diarrhoea.
Lastly, whatever be its origin, it it has continued for
a long time, the viscera are rendered so weak and ir¬
ritable, that the disease, though often removed, still
returns from the slightest causes, and even such as are
not easily discovered.
A diarrhoea proves very pernicious, by hindering
digestion and the nourishment of the body ; for the
stomach is commonly affected, and the aliments pass
through the intestines so quickly, that they can nei¬
ther be properly digested, nor are the lacteals able to
absorb the chyle from them as they go along. Such a
violent evacuation is also hurtful by exhausting the
body, and carrying off a great quantity of the nutri¬
tious matter from the blood. Neither indeed, is it
only the alimentary mass which is thrown out sooner
than it ought to be ; but at the same time, a great
quantity of the fluids secreted in the intestines, so that
the whole body quickly partakes of the debility.
Sometimes a violent and long-continued diarrhoea
rises to such a height, that the aliment is discharged
with little or no alteration. Sometimes also, though
rarely, from a similar cause, or from the obstruction
of the mesenteric glands, and its other passages into
the blood, the chyle itself is thrown out like milk
along with the excrements 5 and this disease is called
111 the fluxus ccrliacus.
Dysentery. A dysentery is attended with very severe gripes in
the belly, a frequent desire of going to stool, and
vain efforts, when nothing is excreted besides the mucus
of the intestines mixed with a little blood} it is also ac¬
companied with excessive debility, and frequently with
putrescency and fever. It is thought to arise from
the constriction of some part of the intestines, of the
colon especially : by which means the bowels, though
ever so much irritated, can pass nothing; neither can
the disease be removed, until the belly has been well
1x2 purged by proper medicines.
Tenesmus. A tenesmus is a frequent and insatiable propensity
to stool, without being able to pass any thing, not¬
withstanding the most violent efforts. It may be oc¬
casioned by any kind of irritation, either of the rec¬
tum itself or of the neighbouring parts, by acrid
substances taken into the body ”, by some of the strong¬
er purges, especially aloes, a substance very difficult of
solution, which will pass even to the rectum with very
little alteration 5 by a violent and obstinate diarrhoea,
dysentery, haemorrhoids, worms, fistula, calculus, ulcer
in the bladder, urethra, &c. It is often very perni¬
cious, both from the excessive uneasiness it occasions to
. the patient, and from its exhausting his strength, by the
frequent and vain efforts bringing on a prolapsus ani,
and communicating the violent initation to the neigh-
113 bouring parts, as the bladder, &c.
^auseaand A nausea and vomiting are disorders very common,
vomiting. and owing to almost innumerable causes •, not only to
affections of the stomach itself, but also to affections and
2 I N E. Theor
irritations of the remotest parte of the body which DWd
may act upon the stomach by sympathy. Every irri- efthcJ
tation and distention of that viscus therefore, a load mentai
of crude aliment, an obstruction about the pylorus,
all acrid substances taken into it, diseases of the liver, ^
intestines, kidneys, uterus, the head, the feet, the skm,
or indeed the whole body, inflammation, the stone,
king’s evil, schirrus, apoplexy, compression of the brain,
fracture of the skull, vertigo, syncope, violent pain,
the gout, especially when repelled, fevers, passions of
the mind, disagreeable imaginations or discourses, fre¬
quently induce nausea and vomiting.
These affections are often serviceable by freeing the
stomach from something with which it was overloaded 5
promoting spitting in some cases where the lungs are
overcharged with mucus, blood, pus, or water j pro¬
ducing sweat, and a free and proper distribution of
blood°to the surface of the body ; partly, perhaps, by
the great straining which accompanies vomiting, but
rather by that wonderful sympathy which takes place
between the stomach and skin : and hence, in many
diseases, vomiting is a most excellent remedy. It is
however m some cases hurtful, if too violent or too lie-
quently repeated, partly by debilitating and making
the stomach more easily moved ; and partly by fa¬
tiguing the patient with violent strainings, which oc¬
casion hernias, abortions, &c. _ 11 I
Sometimes we find the motion of the intestines Iliac p
totally inverted, from the anus to the mouth ) a ska
most dangerous distemper, which hath obtained the
name of the iliac passion. It most frequently arises
from some obstruction in the alimentary canal hinder¬
ing the descent ot the excrements, as schirrus, spasm,
inflammation, &c. : though the most perfect iliac pas¬
sion takes place without any obstruction, so that clys¬
ters will be vomited *, ,and even after this has conti¬
nued for several days, the patients have at length re¬
covered.
A slighter degree of the iliac passion, namely the
inversion of the peristaltic motion of the duodenum,
always takes place in long-continued and violent vo¬
miting, as in sea-sickness, or when a person has taken
too large a dose of an emetic j by which means a vast
quantity of bile frequently ascends into the stomach,
and is discharged by vomiting. 1
An excessive vomiting with looseness is called a cho- CM'
/t-ra, when the matter discharged has a bilious appear¬
ance. It arises from a very great irritation of the ali¬
mentary canal without any obstruction } and is for the
most part occasioned by too great a quantity, or
from an acrimony of the bile, from whence it takes
its name. It may originate from several causes, as
too strong a dose of an emetic and cathartic medicine,
eating too great a quantity of summer-fruits, &c.
and is a very violent malady, often killing the pa¬
tient in a few hours, unless proper remedies be applied
in time. 5
From a suppression of any of the secretions, or a obspd
disorder of any of the secretory organs, many mis-pets1-
chiefs may arise. A diminution of perspiration pro- aon
duces plethora, lassitude, languor, depression of mind,
bad digestion, loss of appetite, and even a general cor¬
ruption of the humours from the retention of such a
quantity of putrescent matter.—The more suddenly the
diminution or suppression of the perspiration takes
place,
M E D I c: I U E.
place, the sooner tlie mlscluef is produced, and the
greater it is; not only by retaining the matter which
ought to be thrown out, but by repelling the humours
from the surface of the body, and directing them to
other parts $ whence fevers, inflammations, congestions
of the blood, &c. frequently take place.
This suppression of perspiration may arise from many
different causes; as from cold suddenly applied to the
body when very hot: sometimes from very violent pas¬
sions of the mind *, or from spasmodic diseases, as the
hysterics, &c. It may be suppressed also by that kind
of constriction of the vessels of the skin which is pro¬
duced by various kinds of fevers, the nature of which
has hitherto been but little known.
Excessive perspiration or sweating is injurious by de¬
bilitating the body, relaxing the skin, and exposing the
patient to all the evils which arise from catching cold.
It may even be carried to such a height as to produce
fainting and death 5 though it must be owned that we
cannot easily bring examples of people having, from this
cause, their blood inspissated, corrupted, or being thence
made liable to inflammations and fevers.
A suppression of urine is still more dangerous than
that of perspiration, and unless relieved in a short time
will certainly prove fatal. This disorder, which is call¬
ed ischuria, may arise from various diseases of the kid¬
neys, ureters, bladder, urethra, &c. Thus any obstruc¬
tion or irritation of one or other of the kidneys or ure¬
ters,-by a stone, gravel, mucus, blood, inflammations,
spasm, suppuration, schirrus, swellings of the neighbour¬
ing parts, &c. may either prevent the urine from being
secreted, or may give rise to a scanty or depraved secre¬
tion, or, finally, may obstruct its passage into the blad¬
der after it is secreted.
The urine also, after it has entered the bladder,
is there frequently suppressed, by reason of various
disorders to which that organ is liable, as an irritation
or inflammation, spasm, acrid substances injected, or
sympathy with the neighbouring parts 5 or by reason
of the texture of the bladder itself being destroyed, or
from a palsy, schirrus, ulcer, &c. in the bladder. Or,
lastly, the urine may be retained in the bladder from
a general stupor, as from a disease of the brain,
which happens in some fevers, when the patient is
neither sensible of the usual stimulus, nor even of one
much greater, so that the fibres can scarcely be exci¬
ted to contraction by any means whatever. This, in
fevers, is always a bad sign, and sometimes even proves
fatal.
A suppression of urine for any length of time pro¬
duces an immense distention of the bladder, oppression,
uneasiness, and pain, not only of the part itself, but
of the surrounding ones, and even of the whole body j
a spasm, or insuperable constriction of the sphincter;
an inflammation, gangrene, or laceration of the blad¬
der itself; a violent irritation of the whole habit ;
then a nausea, vomiting, vertigo, general stupor, and
an impregnation of the whole mass of blood with
a humour of an urinous nature, which at last being
poured out into various cavities of the body, especially
of the head, soon brings on a deep sleep, convulsions,
and death.
From the same causes, hut acting with less force,
proceeds that disease called a di/sitria, when the urine
passes with difficulty and pain, and is frequently
227
red, black, bloody, purulent, mucous, and sandy •, the Disorder*
reason of all which appearances is very much un- of Secre-
known.—I he most frequent complaint, however, in , t^on-
making water, is where the patient ha? a continual and ;
violent desire ot passing his urine, while at the same
time only two or three drops can be passed at once, i2o
and that not without some pain. Tins may be occa- Strangury,
sioned even in healthy people, by some acrid substance
taken into the stomach ; and is very common to old
people, who are generally subject to disorders of the
kidneys and bladder. It arises also frequently from a
stone irritating the bladder, or from an inflammation of
it, or of its being deprived of its mucus, or this last be¬
ing somehow or other corrupted j or lastly, from cer¬
tain diseases, or some particular state of the neighbour¬
ing parts, as of the uterus, vagina, urethra, prostate
gland, &c. ... . Izf
Akin to the strangury is an incontinence of urine, Inconti-
when the patient’s water either comes away against nc.nce ot
his will, or altogether without his knowledge. ThisUliile’
disorder may arise from debility, palsy, an ulcer or
wound, or any long-continued and violent irritation
of the bladder, especially of its sphincter, as from a
stone, a general palsy, or in females difficult labour,
injuring the neighbouring parts.—This symptom oc¬
curs in a great number of diseases, especially in the
hydrocephalus.—Sometimes the urine is expelled with
violence, either by reason of universal spasms, or by
violent contractions of the muscles of respiration, as in
sneezing, laughter, &c. 122
Among the disorders incident bo the urine we Urinary
may reckon the production of calculi, which frequently cait'’1'1'
bring on the most excruciating and dangerous diseases.
—The urine, besides the water and salts, contains no
small share of the glutinous part of the blood already
somewhat corrupted, and still inclined to farther cor¬
ruption. Hence the urine even of the most healthy
people deposits a sediment after it has stood for some
time ; and though none of this sediment be formed in
a healthy body, yet if the smallest particle of foreign
matter be introduced into the bladder, a crust soon
gathers round it, and it is sure to become the basis of a
concretion, which by degrees grows to a very great
size. It is not unlikely, also, that some unknown
faults of the fluids may contribute to the production
of those calculi, as the stone is well known to be an
hereditary disease, and to be born with the patient.
Calculous persons also are commonly subject, to com
plaints of %the stomach, especially to an acidity ol it;
and many have received no little relief from alkalescent
or alkaline medicines.—From the same causes may
calculi be formed in the kidneys 5 from which proceed
a horrid train of symptoms described in the subsequent
part of this treatise.
It is now found, by accurate experiments ol the
most able chemists, that urinary calculi do not, as was
once supposed, consist almost entirely of an earthy mat¬
ter. Their principal constituent is a peculiar acid,
approaching more nearly to the phosphoric found, in
the bones than to any other. But the acid of cal¬
culus being in some respects peculiar in its nature,, has
among'modern chemists obtained a peculiar name, and
been distinguished by the appellation of the /ithie av icric
acid. It is highly probable that this acid present in the
circulating mass, is precipitated and disengaged by the
F f 2 introduction
228 M E D I
Disorder introauction of other acids, and thus thrown off in
of the greater quantities by the kidneys. Thus, then, we can
Glands, understand the influence of acids as tending to the ge-
1   1 neration of calculus, and of alkalies as tending to pre*
123 vent it. , . . f .
Schirras. The last disorder here to be taken notice ot is a
disorder of the glands themselves, owing to some kind
of obstruction, and is one of the most dreadful dis¬
eases incident to human nature. Hence happens a
<n-eat swelling and surprising hardness, not only without
pain, but sometimes even with a diminution of sensation
in the part affected ; and when the gland is thus affect¬
ed, it is called a schirrus. Sometimes it remains in
this state for a long time *, but sooner or later produces
the most excruciating torment. By degrees it is infect¬
ed with a slow and malignant suppuration, degenerating
into an horrid ulcer, consuming not only the part itsell,
CINE. Practi(
but eating away the neighbouring ones, and corrupting yersati|
the whole body with the most acrid and incurable poi- of the f
son. This disease is called a cancer, of which the causes raim<5
are very little known. 1 tu^°'
Of the organs in both sexes concerned in the function
of generation, and of that function as far as we yet
know any thing respecting it, an account has already
been given in Anatomy j and after what has been said
of the difterent functions, and of the morbid affections,
to which these are subjected, we may conclude onr re¬
marks on the theory of medicine, with mentioning the
remarkable versatility of the human constitution ) which
more than that of any other animal, is capable of ac¬
commodating itself to every climate and to all kinds of
diet. Hence we may conclude, that a large proportion
of the diseases to which we are subjected are produced
by ourselves.
Practice of Medicine, or an Account of the principal Diseases to which the Human
Body is subjected.
124
General
arrange-
nient of
diseases.
We have already defined medicine to be the ait of
preventing, curing, and alleviating, those diseases to
which mankind are subjected. While these affections,
however, are in number almost infinite, each in its pro¬
gress is subjected to almost endless varieties from differ¬
ences in climate, constitution, treatment, and a \aiiety
of other particulars. Hence we may readily explain
both the difficulty of distinguishing morbid affections
from each other in actual practice, and the diversity of
names which have been affixed to them in the waitings
of ancient physicians. It may readily be supposed,
that in this, as well as other subjects, there has been a
gradual improvement from the progressive labours of
industrious and ingenious men. And although much
yet remains to be done in the proper arrangement and
distinction of diseases, or what has been called methodi¬
cal nosology, yet there cannot be a doubt, that duung
the course of the 18th century, this subject has re¬
ceived very great improvements. For these, we aie,^
in the first' place, highly indebted to the labours of
Franciscus Boissier de Sauvages, an eminent professor
of medicine at Montpelier, who, following out an idea
suggested by the sagacious Dr Sydenham of Fngland,
first successfully attempted to arrange diseases, as bo¬
tanists had done plants, into classes, orders, genera, and
species. Since the publication of the Uosologia Mctko-
dica of Sauvages, this subject has been successfully cul¬
tivated by several ingenious men, particularly by Sir
Charles Linmeus of Upsal, to whose genius for arrange¬
ment every branch of natural history, but botany in
particular, has been so highly indebted •, by lludolphus
Augustus Vogel, an eminent professor at Gottingen
and by John Baptist Sagar, a distinguished physician at
Iglaw in Moravia : But of all the systems of arrange¬
ment yet presented to the medical world, that publish¬
ed by'the late illustrious Dr William Cullen of Edin¬
burgh, may justly be considered as the best. In treat¬
ing, therefore, of the principal diseases to which the
human body is subjected, vre shall follow his plan, en¬
deavouring to deliver the best established obseri ations
respecting the history, theory, and practice of each. In
treating of particular genera of disease, although we
follow the arrangement of Dr Cullen, yet for the satis¬
faction of the reader, we shall often point out the
classes to which the same affection is referred by the
other eminent writers whom we have mentioned. And
on this account, it may not be improper briefly to enu¬
merate the general classes to which each of them have
referred the affections of the human body.
The Classes of Sauvages are.
1. Vitia.
2. Febres.
3. Phlegmasite.
4. Spasmi.
5. Auhelationes.
6. Debilitates.
7. Dolores.
8. Yesanke.
9. Fluxus.
10. Cachexise.
The Classes of Linnaeus are,
1. Exanthematici.
2. Critic!.
3. Phlogistici.
4. Dolorosi.
5. Mentales.
6. Quietales.
7. Motorii.
8. Suppressorii,
9. Evacuatorii.
10. Deformes.
11. Vitia.
The Classes of Vogel are,
1. Febres.
2. Profluvia.
3. Epischeses.
4. Dolores.
5. Spasmi.
6. Adynamiae.
7. Hypereestheses.-
8. Cachexiae.
9. Paranoiac.
10. ^ itia.
11. Deforraltates.
The Classes of Sagar are,
1*. Vitia,
2. Palgae.
3. Cachexiae.
4. Dolores.
5. Fluxus..
6. Suppress!ones,
7. Spasmi.
8. Anhelationes.
9. Debilitates.
10. Exanthemata.
11. Phlegmasiae.
12. Febres.
13. Vesauiae.
Besides
Pi dice.
Besides these, two other systems have been presented
to the public, which may be considered as deserving at¬
tention ; those, viz. of the late learned Dr M’Bride of
Dublin, and of the late ingenious Dr Darwin.
MEDICINE.
(7 eral
A »SC-
11.: it Of
]) uses.
The Classes and Orders of M’Bride.
Cullen’s Arrangement.
229
General
Arrange-
Class I. PYREXIiE. A frequent pulse coming
on after a horror ; considerable heat 5 many of the func¬
tions injured j the strength of the limbs especially di¬
minished.
Class. I. Universal Diseases.
Or. I. Fevers.
2. Inflammations.
3. Fluxes.
4. Painful diseases.
5. Spasmodic diseases.
6. Weaknesses or privation.
7. Asthmatic disorders.
8. Mental disorders.
Class II. Local Diseases.
Or. 1. Of the internal senses.
2. Of the external senses.
3. Of the appetites.
4. Of tiie secretions and excretions.
5. Impeding different actions.
6. Of the external habit.
7. Dislocations.
8. Solutions of continuity.
Class III. Sexual Diseases.
Or. 1. General proper to men.
2. Local proper to men.
3. General proper to women.
4. Local proper to women.
Class IV. Infantile Diseases.
Or. 1. General.
2. Local.
The Classes and Orders of Darwin.
Class I. Diseases of Irritation.
Or. 1. Increased irritation.
2. Decreased irritation.
3. Retrograde irritative motions.
Class II. Diseases of Sensation.
Or. 1. Increased sensation.
2. Decreased sensation.
3. Retrograde sensitive motions.
Class III. Diseases of Volition.
Or. 1. Increased volition.
2. Decreased volition.
Gass IV. D iseases of Association.
Or. 1, Increased associated motions.
2. Decreased associated motions.
3. Retrograde associated motions.
After this short view of different classifications, we
shall next present to our readers a more particular ac¬
count ot the arrangement of Dr Cullen; which, al¬
though it can by no means be represented as free from
errors or imperfections, is yet in many respects the
best that has hitherto been published.
Order I. Febres. Pyrexia without any primary lo- .-
cal affection, following languor, lassitude, and other
symptoms of debility.
Sect. I. In ter mitten tes. Fevers arising from the mi¬
asma of marshes 5 with an apyrexia,, or at least a very
evident remission j but the disease returns regularly, and.
for the most part with a horror or trembling.
Genus I. Tertiana. Similar paroxysms after an in¬
terval of about 48 hour's, coming on most commonly at
mid-day. A tertian hath either j
I. An apyrexia interposed.
1. Varying in the duration of the paroxysms.
A, The tertian whose paroxysms are not extended
beyond 1.2 hours.
B, The tertian with paroxysms extended beyond 12
houx^s.
2. Varying in the return of paroxysms.
C, The tertian returning every day with unequal
paroxysms alternately similar to one another.
D„ The tertian returning every third day with two
paroxysms on the same day.
E, The tertian returning every day, with two par
x’oxysms on every third day, and only one on the inter¬
mediate ones.
F, The tertian returning every day, with an evident
remission interposed between the odd and the even days,
but a less remarkable one between the even and the odd
days.
3. Varying in its symptoms.
G, The tertian accompanied with a disposition to
sleep.
II, Accompanied with spasms and convulsive mo¬
tions.
I, Accompanied with an efflorescence on the skin.
K, With phlegmasia.
4-. Varying in being complicated with other diseases,
5. Varying as to its origin.
II. With tlie interposition only of a remission between
the paroxysms.
Genus IT. Quartana. Similar paroxysms, with au
interval of about 72 hours, coming on in the afternoon,
I, With the interposition of an apyrexia.
1. Varying in the type.
A, The quartan with single paroxysms, returning
evex-y fourth day, none on the other days.
B, With two paroxysms every fourth day, and none
on the other days.
C, W ith three pai'oxysms.every fourth day, and none
on the intermediate days.
D, Of the four days having only the third free from
fever, with similar paroxysms every fourth day.
E, The quartan coming, on every day, with similar
paroxysms every fourth day.
2. Varying in its symptoms.
3. Varying in being complicated with other diseases.
11. With a remission only between the paroxysms, .
Genus III. Quotidiana. Similar paroxysms with
an
M E D I
an interval of about 24 hours, coining on commonly in
the morning.
I. With the interposition of an ajiyrexia.
1. Varies in being solitary.
A, Universal.
B, Partial.
2. Complicated with other diseases.
II. With a remission only between the paroxsyms.
Sect. II. Continuce. Fevers without evident inter¬
mission, and not occasioned by marsh miasmata •, but
attended with exacerbations and remissions, though not
always very remarkable.
Genus IV. Synocha. Great heat $ a frequent,
strong, and hard pulse j high-coloured urine } the func¬
tions of the sensorium a little disturbed.
Genus V. Typhus. A contagious disease j the heat
not much above the natural ; the pulse small, weak,
and for the most part frequent ■, the urine little changed 5
the functions of the sensorium very much disturbed, and
the strength greatly diminished.
The species are,
I. Typhus petechialis. Typhus for the most part
with petechim.
Varying in degree. 1. Mild typhus. 2. Malignant
typhus.
II. Typhus icterodes. Typhus with a yellowness of
the skin.
Genus VI. Synochus. A contagious disease. A
fever compounded of synocha and typhus 5 in the be¬
ginning a synocha, but towards the end a typhus.
Order II. Phlegmasije. A synocha fever, with
inflammation or topical pain, the internal function of
the parts being at the same time injured j the blood
drawn and concreted exhibiting a white coriaceous sur¬
face.
Genus VII. Phlogosis. Pyrexia ; redness, heat, and
painful tension, of some external part.
The species are,
I. Phlogosis (phlegmone) of a vivid red colour ; a
swelling well defined, for the most part elevated to a
point, and frequently degenerating into an abscess, with
a beating or throbbing pain.
The variations are, 1. In the form. 2. In the situa¬
tion.
II. Phlogosis (erythema) of a reddish colour, vanish¬
ing by pressure 5 of an unequal and creeping circum¬
ference, with scarce any swelling j ending in the scaling
off of the cuticle, in pustules, or blisters.
The variations are, 1. In the degree of violence.
2.. In the remote cause. 3. In being complicated with
other diseases.
The consequences of a phlogosis are, an imposthume,
gangrene, sphacelus.
Genus VIII. Ophthalmia. A redness and pain of
the eye, with an inability to bear the light; for the most
part with an effusion of tears.
The species and varieties of the ophthalmia are,
I. Idiopathic.
1. Ophthalmia in the tunica adnata,
and the membranes lying under it, or the coats of the
eye.
A, Varying in the degree of the external inflamma¬
tion.
CINE. Practi
B, In the internal coats affected. Qene
2. Ophthalmia (tarsi), of the eye-lids, with swelling, Anar
erosion, and glutinous exudation. 1110111
II. Symptomatic.
1. From a disease of the eye itself.
2. From diseases of other parts, or of the whole
body.
Genus IX. Phrenitis. Violent pyrexia ; pain of the
head 5 redness of the face and eyes *, inability to en-
dure the light or any noise j watchfulness ; a furious
delirium, or typhomania.
I. Idiopathic.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus X. Cynanche. Pyrexia sometimes inclining
to a typhus ; difficulty of swallowing and breathing $
with a sensation of narrowness in the fauces.
The species are,
I. Cynanche (tonsillaris) affecting the mucous mem¬
brane of the fauces, but especially the tonsils, with red¬
ness and swelling, accompanied with a synocha.
II. Cynanche (maligna) affecting the tonsils, and
mucous membrane of the fauces with swelling, redness,
and mucous crusts of a whitish or ash-colour, creeping,
and covering ulcers } with a typhous fever and exanthe¬
mata.
III. Cynanche (trachealis) attended with difficult
respiration, noisy and hoarse inspiration, loud cough,
without any apparent tumour in the fauces, somewhat
difficult deglutition, and a synocha.
IV. Cynanche (pharyngcea) attended with redness
in the bottom of the fauces, very difficult and painful
deglutition, respiration sufficiently free, and a synocha.
V. Cynanche (parotidcea) when great swelling in the
parotids and maxillary glands appearing on the outside;
the respiration and deglutition but little injured 5 a sy¬
nocha, for the most part mild.
Diseases of this genus are symptomatic, either from
external or internal causes.
Genus XI. Pneumonia. Pyrexia, with a pain in
some part of the thorax, difficult respiration, and cough.
The species are, A
I. Peripneumony, with a pulse not always hard, but
sometimes soft ; an obtuse pain of the breast 5 the re¬
spiration always difficult; sometimes the patient cannot
breathe unless in an upright posture ; the face swelled,
and of a livid colour; the cough for the most part moist,
frequently bloody.
1. Simple idiopathic peripneumouies.
Varying in degree.
2. Idiopathic peripneumonies complicated with fever.
3. Symptomatic peripneumonies.
II. Pleurisv, with a hard pulse ; for the most part
attended with a pungent pain of one side, augmented
chiefly during the time of inspiration ; an uneasiness
when lying on the side ; a most painful cough, dry in
the beginning of the disease, afterwards moist, and fre¬
quently bloody.
1. Simple idiopathic pleurisies.
2. Pleurisies, complicated, (i.)With fever. (2.)Mith
catarrh.
3. Symptomatic pleurisies.
4. False pleurisies.
The consequences of pleurisy are a vomica or em¬
pyema.
Genus
ctice.
MEDICINE.
eral Genns XII. Carditis. Pyrexia; pain about the
nge- heart 3 anxiety 3 difficulty of breathing 3 cough 3 un-
t of equal pulse 3 palpitation of the heart, and fainting.
ases', I. Idiopathic.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus XIII. Peritonitis. Pyrexia 3 pain of the belly,
exasperated by an upright posture, without the proper
signs of other abdominal phlegmasite.
I. Peritonitis {propria), situated in the peritonaeum,
properly so called, surrounding the inside of the abdo¬
men.
II. Peritonitis {omentalu), in the peritonaeum extend¬
ed through the omentum.
III. Peritonitis {mesenterica), in the peritonaeum
spread through the mesentery.
Genus XIV. Gastritis. Pyrexia inclining to a ty¬
phus 3 anxiety 3 pain and heat of the epigastrium, aug¬
mented when any thing is taken into the stomach 3 an
inclination to vomit, and an immediate rejection of
every thing swallowed 3 an hiccough.
I. Idiopathic.
1. From external causes.
A, Gastritis {phlegmonodeea), attended with acute
pain and violent pyrexia.
2. From external causes.
B, Gastritis (erysipelatosa), with a less violent fever
and pain: an erysipelatous retlness appearing on the
fauces.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus X\. Enteritis. Pyrexia of a typhous na¬
ture 3 pungent pain of the belly, stretching and twist¬
ing about the navel 3 vomiting 3 the belly obstinately
bound.
I. Idiopathic.
1. Enteritis {phlegmomdcea), with acute pain, violent
fever, vomiting, and constipation of the belly.
2. Enteritis {eipsipclatosa), with less acute fever and
pain, without vomiting 3 but accompanied with a di¬
arrhoea.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus XV I. Hepatitis. Pyrexia 3 tension and pain
of the right hypochondrium 3 sometimes pungent like
that of a pleurisy, but more frequently obtuse 3 a pain
reaching to the clavicle and top of the right shoulder 3
a difficulty of lying on the left side 3 dyspnoea 3 dry
cough, vomiting, and hiccough.
Genus XVII. Splenitis. Pyrexia 3 tension, heat,
and swelling of the left hypochondrium, the pain in¬
creasing by pressure 3 without the signs of nephritis.
Genus XVIII. Nephritis. Pyrexia 3 pain in the re¬
gion of the kidney, often following the course of the
ureter: frequent discharge of urine, either thin and co¬
lourless, or very red ; vomiting 3 stupor of the thigh 5
with a retraction or pain of the testicle of the same side.
Ibe species are,
{• Idiopathic. Spontaneous.
3 pain and swelling
painful discharge of
The species are,
E T hose arising from internal causes.
II. I hose from external causes.
Genus XX. Hysteritis. Pyrexia 3 heat, tension,
swelling, and pain of the hypogastrium 5 the os uteri
painful when touched 3 vomiting.
11. Symptomatic.
Genus XIX. Cystitis. Pyrex
of the hypogastrium : frequent an
urine, or ischuria ; and tenesmus.
Genus XXI. RheumatismuS. A disease arising
irom an external and frequently very evident cause 3
pyrexia 3 pain about the joints, frequently following
the course of the muscles 3 infesting the knees and other
:il'Se joints rather than those ol the feet or hands 3 in¬
creased by external heat.
rr,r^\e sPeoies are either idiopathic or symptomatic.
I he former varies in situation.
A, In the muscles of the loins.
B, In the muscles of the coxendix.
C, In the muscles of the breast.
. Genus XXII. Odontalgia 3 a rheumatism of the
jaw's from a caries of the teeth.
Genus XXIII. Podagra. An hereditary disease
arising without any evident external cause, hut for th%
most part preceded by an unusual affection of the sto¬
mach 3 pyrexia 3 pain of a joint for the most part of
the great toe of the foot, at least infesting chiefly the
wrists and ankles 3 returning by intervals ; and often
alternated with affections of the stomach and other in¬
ternal parts.
I. Podagra (rcgu/aris), with a pretty violent inflam¬
mation of the joints remaining for some days, and by
degrees going off with swelling, itching, and desquama¬
tion of the affected part.
II. Podagra (atonica), with an atony of the stomach,
or some other internal part; and either without the usu¬
al inflammation of the joints, or only with slight and
wandering pains 3 and frequently alternated with dy¬
spepsia, or other symptoms of atony.
III. Podagra {retrogradu), with the inflammation of
the joints suddenly disappearing, and an atony of the
stomach and other parts immediately following.
IV. Podagra {aberrans), with the inflammation of an
internal part either preceding or not, and suddenly dis¬
appearing.
Genus XXIV. Arthropuosis. Deep, obtuse, and long-
continued pains of the joints or muscular parts, fre¬
quently following contusions 3 with either no swelling,
or a moderate and diffused one 3 no phlogosis 3 pyrexia,
at first gentle, afterwards hectic, and at length an im-
posthume.
Order III. Exanthemata. Contagious diseases ^
affecting a person only once in his life 3 beginning with
fever 3 after a certain time appear phlogoses, for the
most part small and in considerable number, and disper¬
sed over the skin.
Genus XXV. Erysipelas. A synocha of two or
three days, for the most part attended with drowsiness,
often with a delirium. In some parts of the skin, most
frequently the face, appears a phlogosis. The species
are,
I. Erysipelas {vesicnlosum), with erythema, redness
creeping, occupying a large space, and in some parts
ending in large blisters.
II. Erysipelas {phlyctanodes), with an erythema
formed of a number of papulae, chiefly occupying the
trunk of the body, ending in phlyctenas or small
blisters.
The disease is also symptomatic.
Genus XXVI. Pestis. An exceedingly contagious
typhus, with the highest debility. On an uncertain day
of the disease buboes and carbuncles break forth. It is
various in degree, but the species are uncertain.
GenuS
231
General
Arrange¬
ment of
Diseases.
!32 M E D I
General Genus XXVII. V aiioia •, a contagious synocha, with
Arrange- vomiting, and pain on pressing the epigastrium. On the
nvent of third day begins, and on the fifth is finished, the erup-
Diseases. tjon 0f inflammatory pustules, which suppurate in the
gpace eigflt days, and at last go off in crusts 5 fre¬
quently leaving depressed cicatrices or pockpits in the
skin. The species are,
I. Variola {discrata), with few distinct, turpid pus¬
tules, having circular bases 5 the fever ceasing immedi¬
ately after the eruption.
II. Variola (conjlnens), with numerous, confluent,
irregularly shaped pustules, flaccid and little elevated }
the fever remaining after the eruption.
Genus XXVIII. Varicella. Synocha j papulse break-
- iiig out after a short fever, similar to those of the small¬
pox, but hardly ever coming to suppuration j after a
few days going* off in small scales, without leaving any
mark.
Genus XXIX. Rubeola. A contagious synocha, with
sneezing, epiphora, and dry hoarse cough. On the
fourth day, or a little later, break forth small, clustered,
• and scarcely elevated papulse 5 after three days going
off in very small branny scales.
. . I. Rubeola {vulgaris), with very small confluent co¬
rymbose papulae, scarcely rising above the skin.
Varying,
1. In the symptoms being more severe, and the course
of the disease less regular.
2. In being accompanied with a cynanche.
3. With a putrid diathesis.
II. Rubeola {variolodes), with distinct papulse, rais¬
ed above the skin.
Genus XXX. Miliaria. Synochus with anxiety,
frequent sighing, unctuous sweat, and a sense of prick¬
ing as of pin points in the skin. On an uncertain day
of the disease, break out red, small, distinct papulse,
spread over the whole body as well as the face; the
apices of which, after one or two days, become very
small white pustules, remaining for a short time.
Genus XXXI. Scarlatina. A contagious synocha.
On the fourth day of the disease the face swells a little j
at the same time an universal redness occupies the skin
in large spots, at length running together ; after three
days going oft’ in branny scales} frequently succeeded
by an anasarca. The species are,
I. Scarlatina (simplex), not accompanied with cy-
rsanche.
II. Scarlatina {cynanchicd), with an ulcerous cy¬
nanche.
Genus XXXII. Urticaria. A quotidian fever.
On the second day of the disease, red spots resembling
the stinging of nettles, almost vanishing during the
day, but retuiming during the evening with the fever,
and after a few days going off altogether in very small
scales.
* Genus XXXIII. Pemphigus. A contagious typhus.
On the first, second, or third day of the disease, blisters
break out in several parts of the body, of the bigness of
a bean, remaining for many days, and at last pouring
out a thin ichor.
Genus XXXIV. Aphtha. Synochus; the tongue
somewhat swelled and of a livid colour, as well as the
fauces ; eschars first appearing in the fauces, but at
length occupying the whole internal parts of the mouth,
of a white colour, sometimes distinct, often running to¬
ff
CINE. Pract.
gether, quickly growing again w'ben taken off; and
remaining for an uncertain time. Amu .
The species are, 1. Idiopathic. 2. Symptomatic. mem
1 . Diset,
Order IV. HiEMORRHAGIiE. Pyrexia, with a dis-y •>
charge of blood, without any external violence : the
blood drawn from a vein hath the same appearance as
in phlegmasia:.
Genus XXXV. Epistaxis. Pain or weight of the
head, redness of the face 5 a discharge of blood from
the nose.
I. Idiopathic.
Varying according to the time of life.
1. Epistaxis of young people, with symptoms of an
arterial plethora.
2. Epistaxis of old people, with symptoms of a ve¬
nous plethora.
II. Symptomatic.
1. From internal causes.
2. From external causes.
Genus XXXVI. PIsemoptysis. Redness of the
cheeks j a sensation of uneasiness, or pain, and some¬
times of heat in the breast; difficulty of breathing;
tickling of the fauces j either a severe or less vio¬
lent cough, bringing up florid and frequently frothy
blood.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Haemoptysis (plethorica), without any external
violence, and without being preceded by any cough or
suppression of any customary evacuation.
2. Haemoptysis (violenta), from external violence ap-
plied.
3. Haemoptysis (phthisica), after a long-continued
cough, with a leanness and debility.
4. Haemoptysis (calculosa), in which some calculous
molecules, for the most part of a calcareous nature, are
thrown up.
5. Haemoptysis (vicaria), after the suppression of a
customary evacuation.
Besides these, there are a number of symptomatic
species mentioned by different authors. The conse¬
quence of an haemoptysis is, a
Phthisis. A wasting and debility of the body, with
a cough, hectic fever, and for the most part a purulent
expectoration. The species are,
I. An incipient phthisis, without any expectoration
of pus.
II. A confirmed phthisis, with an expectoration of
pus.
Both species vary, 1. As to their remote cause. 2.
As to the origin of the purulent matter.
Genus XXXVII. Haemorrhois. Weight and pain
of the head ; vertigo 5 pain of the loins 5 pain of the
anus ; livid painful tubercles, from which for the most
part blood flows out; which sometimes also drops out
of the anus, without any apparent tumor. The species
are,
1. Haemorrhois (tumens), external from mariscce.
Varying,
A, Bloody.
B, Mucous.
2. Haemorrhois {procidens), external from a proci¬
dentia ani.
3. Haemorrhois {Jluens), internal, without any swel¬
ling, or procidentia ani.
4. Hsemorrhois
tice.
al 4. Hsemorrhois (ccecci), with pain and swelling of the
re- anus, without any profusion of blood.
Genus XXXVIII. Menorrhagia. Pains of the hack,
V, belly, and loins, like those of child-birth ; an unusual¬
ly copious flux of the menses or blood from the vagina.
The species are,
1. Menorrhagia (rubra), bloody in women neither
with child nor in child-birth.
2. Menorrhagia (abortus), bloody in women with
child.
3. Menorrhagia (lochialls), bloody in women after
delivery.
4. Menorrhagia (vitiorum), bloody from some local
disease.
5. Menorrhagia (alba), serous, without any local
disease, in women not pregnant.
6. Menorrhagia (Nabothi), serous in women with
child.
Order V. Proflu via. Pyrexia, with an increased
excretion, naturally not bloody.
Genus XXXIX. Catarrhus. Pyrexia, frequently
.contagious; an increased excretion of mucus, at least
efforts to excrete it.
The species are,
1. From cold.
2. From contagion.
Genus XL. Dysenteria. Contagious pyrexia; fre¬
quent mucous or bloody stools, while the alvine faeces
.are for the most part retained 5 gripes 5 tenesmus.
Varying,
1. Accompanied with worms.
2. With the excretion of small fleshy or sebaceous
bodies.
3. With an intermittent fever.
4. Without blood,
5. With a miliary fever.
Class II. NEUROSES. A preternatural affec¬
tion of sense and motion, without an idiopathic pyrexia
or any local affection.
Order I. Comata. A diminution of voluntary mo¬
tion, with sleep, or a deprivation of the senses.
Genus XLI. Apoplexia. Almost all voluntary mo¬
tion abolished, with sleep more or lefes profound j the
motion of the heart and arteries remaining.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Apoplexia (sanguined), with symptoms of univer¬
sal plethora, especially of the head.
2. Apoplexia (serosa), with a leucophlegmatia over
the whole body, especially in old people.
3* Apoplexia (hydrocephalicd), coming on by de¬
grees j affecting infants, or those below the age of pu-
berty, first with lassitude, a slight fever and pain of the
head, then slowness of the pulse, dilatation of the pupil
of the eye, and drowsiness.
4. Apoplexia (atrabiharid), taking place in those of
a melancholic constitution.
. 5* Apoplexia (traumatica), from some external in-
jmy mechanically applied to the head.
6. Apoplexia (venenata) from powerful sedatives
taken internally or applied externally.
7* Apoplexia (mentahs), from an affection or emo¬
tion of the mind.
^'ol. XIII. Part I. f
medicine.
8. Apoplexia (cataleptica), the muscles remaining
contractile, by external motion of the limbs.
9. Apoplexia (snffocatd), from some external suffo¬
cating power.
The apoplexy is frequently symptomatic.
}' ^ au. intermittent fever. 2. Continued fever.
3. hlegmasia. 4. Exanthema. 5. Hysteria. 6.Epilepsia.
7. Podagra. 8. Worms. 9. Ischuria. 10. Scurvy.
Genus XLII. Paralysis. Only some of the volun¬
tary motions impaired, frequently with sleep.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Paialysis (partialis) of some particular muscles
only,
2. Paralysis (hemiplegica) of one side of the body.
Varying according to the constitution of the body'.
a, Hemiplegia in a plethoric habit.
b, In a leucophlegmatic habit.
3. Paralysis (paraplegica) of one half of the body
taken transversely.
4. 1 aralysis (venenata) from sedative powers applied
either internally or externally.
A symptom either of an Asthenia or Palsy is,
I remor } an alternate motion of a limb by frequent
strokes and intervals.
The species are, 1. Asthenic. 2. Paralytic. 3. Con¬
vulsive.
Order II. Adynamia. A diminution of the invo¬
luntary motions, whether vital or natural.
Genus XLIII. Syncope j a diminution, or even a
total stoppage, of the motion of the heart for a short
time.
1. Idiopathic.
t. Syncope (cariliaca), returning frequently ivithout
any manifest cause, with violent palpitations of the heart
during the intervals.—From a fault of the heart or
"neighbouring vessels.
2. Syncope (occiisionalis) arising from some evident
cause.—From an affection of the whole system.
II. Symptomatic ; of diseases either of the whole sy¬
stem, or of other parts besides the heart.
Genus XLI\ . Dyspepsia. Anorexia, nausea, vomit¬
ing, inflation, eructation, rumination, cardialgia, gastro-
dynia, more or fewer of those symptoms at least concur¬
ring 5 for the most part with a constipation of the belly,
and without any other disease either of the stomach it¬
self, or of other parts.
/ I. Idiopathic.
II. Symptomatic.
1. From a disease of the stomach itself.
2. From a disease of other parts, or of the whole
body.
Genus XLV. Hypochondriasis. Dyspepsia, with
languor, sadness and fear, without any adequate causes,
in a melancholy temperament.
Genus XLVl. Chlorosis. Dyspepsia, or a desire
of something not used as food ; a pale or discoloured
complexion j the veins not well filled : a soft tumor of
the whole body j asthenia j palpitation 3 suppression of
the menses.
Order III. Spasmi. Irregular motions of the mus¬
cles or muscular fibres.
Sect. I. In the animalfunctions.
Gg
233
General
Arrange¬
ment of
Diseases.
Genus
234
General
Arrange¬
ment of
Diseases.
ME D I
Genus XLVII. Tetanus. A spastic rigidity of al¬
most the whole body.
Varying according to the remote cause, as it rises
either from something internal, from cold, or from a
wound. It varies likewise, from whatever cause it may
arise, according to the part of the body affected.
Genus XLV1II. Trismus. A spastic rigidity of the
lower jaw.—The species are,
1. Trismus {nascentiuni), attacking infants under two
months old.
2. Trismus (traumaticus), attacking people of all ages
either from a wound or cold.
Genus XLIX. Convulsio.—An irregular clonic con¬
traction of the muscles without sleep.
I. Idiopathic.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus L. Chorea, attacking those who have not
yet arrived at puberty, most commonly within the 10th
or 14th year, with convulsive motions for the most part
of one side in attempting the voluntary motion of the
hands and arms, resembling the gesticulations of mounte¬
banks *, in walking, rather dragging one of their feet
than lifting it.
Genus LI. Raphania. A spastic contraction of the
joints, with a convulsive agitation, and most violent pe¬
riodical pain.
Genus LII. Epilepsia. A convulsion of the mus¬
cles, with sleep.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Epilepsia (cerebralis), suddenly attacking without
any manifest cause, without any sense of uneasiness
preceding, excepting perhaps a slight vertigo or dimness
of sight.
2. Epilepsia {sympathica), without any manifest
cause, but preceded by the sensation of a kind of air
rising from a certain part of the body towards the
head.
3. Epilepsia (pccasionalis), arising from a manifest
irritation, and ceasing on the removal of that irrita¬
tion.
Varying according to the difference of the irritating
matter. And thus it may arise,
From injuries of the head j pain *, worms j poison }
from the repulsion of the itch, or an effusion of any other
acrid humour from crudities in the stomach 5 from
passions of the mind; from an immoderate haemorrhagy ;
or from debility.
Sect II. In the vital functions.
In the action of the heart.
Genus LIII. Palpitatio. A violent and irregular
motion of the heart.
In the action of the lungs.
Genus LIV. Asthma. A difficulty of breathing re¬
turning by intervals, with a sense of straitness in the
breast, and a noisy respiration with hissing. In the be¬
ginning of the paroxysm there is either no cough at all,
or coughing is difficult; but towards the end the cough
becomes free, frequently with a copious spitting of mu¬
cus.—The idiopathic species are,
1. Asthma (spontaneuni), without any manifest cause,
or other concomitant disease.
2. Asthma (ex an t hem a ticu in), from the repulsion ot
the itch or other acrid effusion.
3. Asthma (plethoricuni)y from the suppression, of
CINE. Pract,
some customary sanguineous evacuation, or from a spon- Qen,
taneous plethora. Arm
Genus LV. Dyspnoea. A continual difficulty of mwi
breathing, without any sense of straitness, but rather of 4^
fulness and infarction in the breast •, a frequent cough ‘J
throughout the whole course of the disease.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Dyspnoea (catarrhalis), with a frequent cough,
bringing up plenty of viscid mucus.
2. Dyspnoea {sicca), with a cough for the most part
dry.
3. Dyspnoea (ocWa), increased by the least change
of weather.
4. Dyspnoea {terrea), bringing up with the cough
an earthy or calculous matter.
5. Dyspnoea (aquosa), with scanty urine and cede-
matous feet *, without any fluctuation in the breast, or
other signs of an hydrothorax.
6. Dyspnoea (pmguedinosa), in very fat people.
7. Dyspnoea [thoracica), from an injury done to the
parts surrounding the thorax, or from some malconfor-
mation of them.
8. Dyspnoea {extrinseca), from evident external
causes.
The symptomatic species of dyspnoea are conse¬
quences,
i> Of diseases of the heart or large vessels.
2. Of a swelling in the abdomen.
3. Of various other diseases.
Genus LVI. Pertussis. A contagious disease; con¬
vulsive strangulating cough reiterated with noisy inspi¬
ration 5 frequent vomiting.
Sect. III. In the natural functions.
Genus EVIL Pyrosis. A burning pain in the epi¬
gastrium, with plenty of aqueous humour, for the most
part insipid, but sometimes acrid, belched up.
Genus LVIII. Colica. Pain of the belly, especially
twisting round the navel; vomiting j and a constipa¬
tion.
The idiopathic species are*
1. Colica {spasmodica), with retraction of the navel,
and spasms of the abdominal muscles.
Varying, by reason of some symptoms superadded.
Hence,.
a, Colica, with vomiting of excrements, or of matters
injected by the anus.
b, Colica, with inflammation supervening.
2. Colica {pictonuni), preceded by a sense of weight
or uneasiness in the belly, especially about the navel j
then comes on the colic pain, at first slight and inter¬
rupted, chiefly augmented after meals : at length more
severe and almost continual, with pains of the arms and
back, at last ending in a palsy.
Varying according to the nature of the remote cause;
and hence,
a, From metallic poison.
b, From acids taken inwardly.
c, From cold.
d, From a contusion of the back.
3. Colica {stercorea), 'm people subject to costiveness.
4. Colica {accidentalis), from acrid matter taken m-
wardly*
5. Colica (tneconialis), in new-born children from a
retention of the meconium.
6. Cohca
Pn
Gi
An
me
Dn
tice. . M E D
ral 6. Colica (callosa), with a sensation of stricture in
ge- some parts of the intestines, and frequently of a collec-
of tion of flatus with some pain ; which flatus also passing
;CSl i through the part where the stricture is felt, gradually
vanishes ; the belly slow, and at last passing only a few
liquid faeces.
y. Colica (calctdosci), with a fixed hardness in some
part of the abdomen, and calculi sometimes passed by
the anus.
Genus LIX. Cholera. A vomiting of bilious matter,
and likewise a frequent excretion of the same by stool;
anxiety 5 gripes j spasms in the calves of the legs.
I. Idiopathic.
1. Cholera (spontanea), arising in a warm season,
without any manifest cause.
2. Cholera (accicletdalis), from acrid matters taken
inwardly.
II. Symptomatic^
Genus LX. Diarrhoea. Frequent stools; the de¬
cease not infectious •, no primary pyrexia.
I. IdiopathiCi
1. Diarrhoea (ct'cipulosa), in which the excrements
are voided in greater quantity than naturally.
2. Diarrhoea (biliosa), in which yellow faeces are
voided in great quantity.
3. Diarrhoea (mucosa), in which either from acrid
substances taken inwardly, or from cold, especially
applied to the feet, a great quantity of mucus is
voided.
4. Diarrhoea (ccdiaca), in which a milky humour of
the nature of chyle is discharged by stool.
5. Diarrhoea (lienteria), in which the aliments are
discharged writh little alteration soon after eating.
6. Diarrhoea (hepatirrhoca), in which a bloody se¬
rous matter is discharged without pain.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus LXI. Diabetes. A chronical profusion of
urine, for the most part preternatural, and in immode¬
rate quantity.
I. Idiopathic.
1. Diabetes (ntellitus), with urine of the smell, co¬
lour, and taste of honey.
2. Diabetes (insipidus), With limpid, but not sweet,
urine.
II. Symptomatic.
Genus LXII. Hysteria. Rumbling of the bowels;
a sensation as of a globe turning itself in the belly,
ascending to the stomach and fauces, and there threat¬
ening suffocation j sleep Convulsions ; a great quantity
of limpid urine j the mind involuntarily fickle and mu¬
table.
The following are by Sauvages reckoned distinct
idiopathic species j but, by Dr Cullen, only varieties of
the same species.
A, From a retention of the menses.
B, From a menorrhagia cruenta.
C, From a menorrhagia serosa, br fluor albus.
D, From an obstruction of the viscera.
E, From a fault of the stomach.
F, From too great salacity.
Genus LXIII. Hydrophobia. A dislike and horror
at any kind of drink, as occasioning a convulsion of the
pharynx j induced, for the most part, by the bite of a
mad animal. The species are.
235
[CINE.
I. Hydrophobia (rabiosd), with a desire of biting General
the bystanders, occasioned by the bite of a rabid ani- Arrange-
mal. ment of
II. Hydrophobia (simplex), without madness, 01; any , Dlseascs-
desire of biting. 'r—
Order I\ . Vesanial. Disorders of the judgment,
without any pyrexia or coma.
Genus LXIV. Amentia 5 an imbecility of judge¬
ment, by which people either do not perceive, or do
not remember, the relations of things. The species
are,
I. Amentia (congenita), continuing from birth.
II. Amentia (senilis), from the diminution of the
perceptions and memory through extreme old age.
III. Amentia (acquisita), occurring in people for
merly of a sound mind, from evident external causes.
Genus LXV. Melancholia j a partial madness, with¬
out dyspepsia.
Varying according to the different subjects concern¬
ing which the person raves ; and thus it is,
1. With an imagination in the patient concerning his
body being in a dangerous condition, from slight causes j
or his affairs in a desperate state.
2. With an imagination concerning a prosperous
state of aflairs.
3. With violent love, without satyriasis or nympho¬
mania.
4. With a superstitious fear of a future state.
5. With an aversion from motion and all the offices
of life.
6. With restlessness, and an impatience of any situa*
tion whatever.
7. With a weariness of life.
8. With a deception concerning the nature of the
patient’s species.
Dr Cullen thinks that there is no such disease as
that called deemonomania, and that the diseases men¬
tioned by Sauvages under that title are either,
1. Species of melancholy or mania j or
2. Of some disease by the spectators falsely ascribed
to the influence of an evil spirit; or
3. Of a disease entirely feigned j or
4. Of a disease partly true and partly feigned.
Genus LXVI. Mania $ universal madness.
1. Mania (mentalis), arising entii*ely from passions
of the mind.
2. Mania (corporea), from an evident disease of the
body.
Varying according to the different disease of the
body.
3. Mania (obsc7ira), without any passion of mind of
evident disease of the body preceding.
The symptomatic species of mania are,
1. Paraphrosyne from poisons.
2. Paraphrosyne from passion,
3. Paraphrosyne febrilis.
Genus LXVII. Oneirodynia. A violent and trou¬
blesome imagination in time of sleep.
1. Oneirodynia (activa), exciting to walking and
various motions.
2. Oneirodynia (gravans), from a sense of some
weight incumbent, and'pressing on the breast espe¬
cially.
G g 2 Class
236 M E D I
General CLASS III. CACHEXIiE \ a depraved habit of the
Arrange- whole or greatest part of the body, without primary
ment of pyrexia or neurosis.
Diseases. v
' ""1 Order I. Marcores j emaciation of the whole
body.
Genus LXVIII. Tabes. Leanness, asthenia, hec¬
tic fever. The species are,
1. Tabes Qpuridenta') from an external or internal
ulcer, or from a vomica.
V arying in its situation : hence,
2. Tabes (scrophulosa), in scrophulous constitu¬
tions.
3. lilies (ve?ienatd), from poison taken inwardly.
Genus LXIX. Atrophia. Leanness and asthenia,
without hectic fever. The species are,
1. Atrophia (inanitoruni), from too great evacua¬
tion.
2. Atrophia (fcnnelicoruni), from a want of nourish¬
ment.
3. Atrophia {cacochymica), from corrupted nourish¬
ment.
4. Atrophia {dcbiliuni), from the function of nutrition
being depraved, without any extraordinary evacuation
or cacochymia having preceded.
Order II. Intumescentijb. An external swelling of
the whole or greatest part of the body.
Sect. I. Adiposee.
Genus LXX. Polysarcia; a troublesome swelling
ef the body from fat.
Sect. II. Flatuosce.
Genus LXXI. Pneumatosis ; a tense elastic swel¬
ling of the body, crackling under the hand. The spe¬
cies are,
1. Pneumatosis (spontanea), without any manifest
cause.
2. Pneumatosis (traumatica), from a wound in the
breast.
3. Pneumatosis (veneneta), from poison injected or
applied.
4. Pneumatosis (hysterica), with hysteria.
Genus LXXII. Tympanites j a tense, elastic, so¬
norous swelling of the abdomen ; costiveness : a decay
of the other pax-ts. The species are,
1. Tympanites (mtestinalis), from a tumor of the
abdomen frequently unequal, and with a frequent eva¬
cuation of air relieving the tension and pain.
2. Tympanites (abdominalis), with a more evident
noise, a more equable tumor, and a less frequent emis¬
sion of flatus, which also gives less relief.
Genus LXXIII. Physometra ; a slight elastic swel¬
ling in the epigastrium, having the figure and situation
ef the utenxs.
Sect. III. Aquosce or Dropsies.
Genus LXXIV. Anasarca. A soft, inelastic swel¬
ling of the whole body, or some part of it. The species
are,
1. Anasarca (serosa), fi-om a retention of seimm on
account of the suppression of the usual evacuations, or
from an inci'ease of the serum on account of too great a
quantity of water taken inwai'dly.
2. Anasarca (oppilata), from a compression of the
veins.
CINE. Practi,
3. Anasarca (exanthcmaticd), arising after exanthe- Goner
mata, especially succeeding after erysipelas. Anan?
4. Anasarca (ancemia), from the thinness of the blood nu‘nt
produced by luemorrhagy. » ^Diseas
5. Anasarca (dcbilium), in weak people after long ^
diseases, or from other causes.
Genus LXXV. Hydrocephalus. A soft inelastic
swelling of the head, with the sutures of the cranium
opened.
Genus LXXVI. Hydrorachitis. A soft, slender
tumour above the vei'tebroe of the loins j the vertebrae
gaping from each other.
Genus LXXVII. Hydrothorax. Dyspnoea, pale¬
ness of the face *, oedematous swellings of the feet;
scanty urine j difficult lying in a recumbent posture j a
sudden and spontaneous starting out of sleep, with pal¬
pitation ; water fluctuating in the breast.
Genus LXXV HI. Ascites. A tense, scaxxe elastic,
but fluctuating swelling of the abdomen. The species are,
1. Ascites (abdominalis), with an equal swelling of
the whole abdomen, and with a fluctuation sufficiently
evident.
Varying according to the cause.
A, Pi'om an obstruction of the viscera.
B, From debility.
C, From a thinness of the blood.
2. Ascites (saccatus), with a swelling in the abdo¬
men, in the beginning at least, partial, and with a less
evident fluctuation.
Genus LXXIX. Hydrometra. A swelling of the
hypogastrium in women, gradually increasing, keeping
the shape of the uterus, yielding to pi'essui'e, and fluc¬
tuating ", without ischuria or pregnancy.
Genus LXXX. Hydrocele. A swelling of the scro¬
tum, not painful} increasing by degrees,, soft, fluctu¬
ating, and pellucid.
Sect. IV. Solidce.
Genus LXXXI. Physconia. A swelling chiefly
occupying a certain paid of the abdomen, gradually
increasing, and neither sonorous nor fluctuating. The
species are,
Physconia hepatica.
Physconia splenica.
Physconia renalis.
Pbysconia uterina.
Physconia ab ovario.
Physconia mesenterica.
Physconia intestinalis.
Physconia omentalis.
Physconia polysplachna.
Physconia visceralis.
Physconia externa lupialis. •
Physconia externa schirrhodea.
Physconia externa hydatidosa.
Physconia ab adipe subcutaneo.
Physconia ab excrescentia.
Genus LXXXII. Rachitis. A lai’ge head, swell-
ling most in the fore part, the x'ibs depressed 5 abdomen
swelled, with a decay of the other parts.
Varying,
1. Simple, without any other disease.
2. Joined with other diseases.
Order III. Impetigines. Cachexies chiefly deform
ing the skin and external parts of the body.
Genus
p etice. M E D I
y eraj Genus LXXXIII. Scropliula. Swelling of the
A nge- conglobate glands, especially in the neck 5 swelling
n t pf of the upper lip and of the nose-, the face florid, skin,
^ ases' thin, abdomen swelled. The species are,
' 1. Scrophula (vulgaris'), simple, external and per¬
manent.
2. Scropliula (meSenterica), simple, internal, with
paleness of the face, want of appetite, swelling of the
abdomen, and unusual fetor of the excrements.
2i Scrophula (fugax), most simple, appearing only
about the neck; for the most part proceeding from the
resorption of the matter of ulcers in the head.
4. Scrophula (Americana), joined with the yaws.
Genus LX XXIV. Syphilis. A contagious disease j
ulcers of the tonsils, after impure venery, and a disorder
of the genitals: clustered pimples of the skin, especi¬
ally about the margin of the hair, ending in crusts and
crusty ulcers ; pains of the bones ; exostoses.
Genus LXXXV. Scorbutus 5 in cold countries
attacking after putrescent diet, especially such as is
salt and of the animal kind, where no supply of fresh
vegetables is to be had : asthenia ; stomacace; spots
of different colours on the skin, for the most part li¬
vid, and appearing chiefly among the roots of the
hair.
Varying in degree.
a, Scorbutus incipiens.
b, Scorbutus crescens.
c, Scorbutus inveteratus.
Varying also in symptoms.
d, Scorbutus lividus.
e, Scorbutus petechialis.
f, Scorbutus pallidus.
g, Scorbutus ruber.
h, Scorbutus calidus.
Genus LXXXVI. Elephantiasis; a contagious dis¬
ease 5 thick, wrinkled, rough, unctuous skin, destitute
of hairs, anaesthesia in the extremities, the face deform¬
ed with pimples, the voice hoarse and nasal.
Genus LXXXVII. Lepra; the skin rough, with
white, branny, and chopped eschars, sometimes moist
beneath, with itching.
Genus LXXX\ III. Framboesia; swellings resemb¬
ling fungi, or the fruit of the mulberry or raspberry,
growing on various parts of the skin.
Genus LXXXIX. Trichoma; a contagious disease;
the hairs thicker than usual, and twisted into inextri¬
cable knots and cords.
Genus XC. Icterus; yellowness of the skin and
eyes ; white faeces ; urine of a dark red, tinging what
is put into it of a yellow colour.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Icterus (calculosus), with acute pain in the epi¬
gastric region, increasing after meals: biliary concre¬
tions voided by stool;
2. Icterus (spasmodicus), without pain, after spasmo¬
dic diseases, and passions of the mind.
3. Icterus (hepaticus), without pain, after diseases of
the liver.
4. Icterus (gravidarum), arising during the time of
pregnancy, and going off after delivery.
5. Icterus (infantum), coming on in infants a few
days after birth.
C I N E.
Class TV. LOCALES. An affection of some
part, but not of the whole body.
^ Order I. Dys^esthesi^e. The senses depraved or ;
destroyed, from a disease of the external organs.
Genus XCI. Caligo. 'I he sight impaired or totally
destroyed, on account of some opaque substance inter¬
posed between the objects and the retina, inherent in the
eye itself or the eyelids. The species are,
1. Caligo (lentis), occasioned byr an opaque spot be¬
hind the pupil,
2. Caligo (corncev), from an opacity of the cornea.
3. Caligo (pupillec), from an obstruction of the nu-
Pil-
^ arying according to the different causes from which
it proceeds.
4. Caligo (humoruni), from a disease or defect of the
aqueous humour.
Varying according to the different state of the hu¬
mour.
5. Caligo (palpebrarum), from a disease inherent in
the eyelids.
Varying according to the nature of the disease in the
eyelids.
Genus XCIT. Amaurosis. The sight diminished,
or totally abolished, without any evident disease of the
eye ; the pupil for the most part remaining dilated and
immoveable. The species are,
1. Amaurosis (compi'essionis), after the causes and at¬
tended with the symptoms of congestion in the brain.
Varying according to the nature of the remote,
cause.
2. Amaurosis (atonica), after the causes and acconw
panied with symptoms of debility.
3. Amaurosis (spasmodical), after the causes and with
the signs of spasm.
4. Amaurosis (venenata), from poison taken into the
body or applied outwardly to it.
Genus XCIII. Dysopia. A depravation of the
sight, so that objects cannot be distinctly perceived, ex¬
cept at a certain distance, and in a certain situation.
The species are,
1. Dysopia (tenebrarum), in which objects are not
seen unless they be placed in a strong light.
2. Dysopia (luminis) in which objects are not di~'
stinctly seen unless by a weak light.
3. Dysopia (dissitorum), in which-distant objects are
not perceived.
4. Dysopia (proximorum), in which the nearest ob¬
jects are not perceived.
5. Dysopia (lateralis), in which objects are not per¬
ceived unless placed in an oblique posture.
Genus XCIV. Pseudoblepsis; when the sight is dis¬
eased in such a manner that the person imagines he
sees things which really do not exist, or sees things
which do exist after some other manner than they really
are. The species are,
1. Pseudoblepsis (imaginaria), in which the person
imagines he sees things which really do not exist.
Varying according to the nature of the imagina¬
tion.
2. Pseudoblepsis (mutans), in which objects really -
existing appear somehow changed.
Varying
237
General
Arrange¬
ment of
Diseases,
238 M E D I
General Varying according to the change perceived in the
Arrange- objects, and according to the remote cause,
nicnt of Genus XCV. Dysecoea. A diminution or total
,i:)lseases-, abolition of the sense of hearing. The species are,
1. Dyseccea (orga7iica), from a disease in the ox-gans
transmitting sounds to the internal ear.
Varying according to the nature of the disease and
of the part affected.
2. Dysecoea ^atontca'), •without any evident disease
of the organs transmitting the sounds.
Varying according to the nature of the cause.
Genus XCVI. Paracusis \ a depravation of the
hearing. The species are,
1. Paracusis (imperfecta), in which though sounds
coming from external objects are heard, yet it is nei¬
ther distinctly nor in the usual manner.
Varying,
o, With a dulness of hearing.
b, With a hearing too acute and sensible.
e, When a single external sound is doubled by some
internal causes.
d, When the sounds which a person desires to hear
are not perceived, Unless some other violent sound is
raised at the same time.
2. Paracusis (imaginaria), in which sounds not ex¬
isting externally are excited from internal causes.
Varying according to the nature of the sound per¬
ceived, and according to the nature of the remote
Cause.
Genus XCVII. Anosmia; a diminution or aboli¬
tion of the sense of smell. The species are,
1. Anosmia (organica), from a disease in the mem¬
brane lining the internal parts of the nostrils.
Varying according to the nature of the disease.
2. Anosmia (atorrica'), without any evident disease
of the membrane of the nose.
Genus XCVIII. Agheustia; a diminution or aboli¬
tion of the sense of taste.
1. Agheustia (organica), from a disease in the mem¬
brane of the tongue, keeping off from the nerves those
substances which ought to produce taste.
2. Agheustia (atonica), without any evident disease
of the tongue.
Genus XCIX. Anaesthesia ; a diminution or abolition
of the sense of feeling. The species from Sauvages, a-
dopted by Dr Cullen, are,
1. Anaesthesia a spina bifida.
2. Anaesthesia plethorica.
3. Anaesthesia nascentium.
4. Anaesthesia melancholica.
Order II. Dysorexije ; error or defect of appetite.
Sect. I. Appetitus erronei.
Genus C. Bulimia ; a desire for food in greater
quantities than can be digested.
The idiopathic species are,
1. Bulimia (helluonum), an unusual appetite for food,
'without any disease of the stomach.
2. Bulimia (syncopalis), a frequent desire of meat,
on account of a sensation of hunger threatening syn¬
cope.
3. Bulimia (emetied), an appetite for a great quan¬
tity of meat, which is thrown up immediately after it
is taken.
CINE. . Practi
Genus Cl. Polydipsia; an appetite for an unusual Gene)1
quantity of drink. Arran);
The polydipsia is almost always symptomatic, and m.ent|
varies only according to the nature of the disease which
accompanies it.
Genus CII. Pica; a desire of swallowing substances
not used as food.
Genus CI1I. Satyriasis ; an unbounded desire of ve-
nery in men. The species are,
1. Satyriasis (juvenilis), an unbounded desire of
venery, the body at the same time being little disorder¬
ed.
2. Satyriasis (furens), a vehement desire of venery
with a great disorder of the body at the same time.
Genus CIV. Nymphomania; an unbounded desire
of venery in women.
Varying in degree.
Genus CV. Nostalgia ; a violent desire in those who
are absent from their country of revisiting it.
1. Nostalgia (simplex), without any other disease.
2. Nostalgia (complicata), accompanied with other
diseases.
Sect. II. Appetitus def denies.
Genus CVI. Anorexia. Want of appetite for food.
Always symptomatic.
1. Anorexia (humoralis), from some humour loading
the stomach.
2. Anorexia (atonica), from the tone of the fibres of
the stomach being lost.
Genus CVII. Adipsia *, a want of desire for drink.
Always a Symptom of some disease affecting the senso-
rium commune.
Genus CVIII. Anaphrodisia ; w-ant of desire for, or
impotence to, venery.
The true species are,
1. Anaphrodisia paralytica.
2. Anaphrodisia gonorrhoica.
The false ones are,
1. Anaphrodisia & mariscis.
2. Anaphrodisia ah urethrae vitio.
Order III. Dyscinesia:. An impediment, or de¬
pravation of motion from a disorder of the organs.
Genus CIX. Aphonia ; a total suppression of voice
without coma or syncope. The species are,
L. Aphonia (gutturalis), from the fauces or glottis
being swelled.
2. Aphonia, (trac/iealis), from a compression of the
trachea.
3. Aphonia (atonica), from the nerves of the larynx
being cut.
Genus CX. Mutitas ; a want of power to pronounce
words. The species are,
1. Mutitas (organica), from the tongue being cut
out or destroyed.
2. Mutitas (atonica), from injuries done to the nerves
of the tongue.
3. Mutitas (surdorum), from people being born deaf,
or the hearing being destroyed during childhood.
Genus CXI. Paraphonia; a depraved sound of the
voice. The species are,
1. Paraphonia (puberum), in which, about the time
of puberty, the voice from being acute and sweet, be¬
comes more grave and harsh.
2. Paraphonia
Fictice. M E D I
F ( 1)eral 2* Paraphonia (ranca), in which, by reason of the
/ inge- dryness or flaccid tumor of the fauces, the voice be-
E Jat of comes rough and hoarse.
1 i iases. ^ Paraphonia {resonans), in which, by reason of an
v obstruction in the nostrils, the voice becomes hoarse,
with a sound hissing through the nostrils.
4. Paraphonia (palatina), in which, on account of
a defect or division of the uvula, for the most part with
a hare-lip, the voice becomes obscure, hoarse, and un¬
pleasant.
5. Paraphonia (clangens), in which the voice is
changed to one acute, shrill, and small.
6. Paraphonia (comatosa), in which, from a relaxa¬
tion of the velum palati and glottis, a sound is produced
during inspiration.
Genus CXII. Psellismus 5 a defect in the articula¬
tion of words. The species are,
1. Psellismus (fuesitans), in which the words, espe¬
cially the first ones of a discourse, are not easily pro¬
nounced, and not without a frequent repetition of the
first syllable.
2. Psellismus (ringens), in which the sound of the
letter R is always aspirated, and, as it were, doubled.
3. Psellismus (lalla7is), in which the sound of the
letter 1/ becomes more liquid, or is pronounced in¬
stead of R.
4. Psellismus (emolliens), in which the hard letters
are changed into the softer ones, and thus the letter S
is much used.
5. Psellismus (balbutiens), in which, by reason of
the tongue being lai'ge, or swelled, the labial letters are
better heard, and often pronounced instead of others.
6. Psellismus (acheilos), in which the labial letters
cannot be pronounced at all, or with difficulty.
7. Psellismus (lagostomatum), in which, on account
of the division of the palate, the guttural letters are less
perfectly pronounced.
Genus CXIII. Strabismus 5 the optic axes of the
eyes not converging. The species are,
1. Strabismus (kabitualis), from a bad custom of
using only one eye.
2. Strabismus (commodus), from the greater debility
or mobility of one eye above the other} so that both
eyes cannot be conveniently used.
3. Strabismus (necessarius), from a change in the
situation or shape of the parts of the eye.
Genus CXI\. Dysphagia j impeded deglutition,
without phlegmasia or the respiration being affected.
Genus CX\ . Contractura j a long-continued and
rigid contraction of one or more limbs. The species
are,
. 1 Contractura (primaria), from the muscles becom¬
ing contracted and rigid.
a, from the muscles becoming rigid by inflammation.
b, From muscles becoming rigid by spasm.
c, Irom muscles contracted by reason of their anta¬
gonists having become paralytic.
d, From muscles contracted by an irritating acri¬
mony.
2. Contractura (articularis), from stiff joints.
Order IV. Apocenoses. A flux either of blood or
some other humour flowing more plentifully than usual,
Without pyrexia, or an increased impulse of fluids’.
Genus CXVI. Profusio j a flux of blood.
3
CINE.
Genus CX\ II. Ephiurosis j a preternatural evacua¬
tion of sweat.
'Symptomatic ephidroses vary according to the nature
of the diseases which they accompany, the different na¬
ture of the sweat itself, and sometimes the different
parts of the body which sweat most.
Genus CXVIII. Epiphora 5 a flux of the lachrymal
humour.
239
General
Arrange¬
ment of
Diseases.
Genus CXIX. Ptyalismus 5 a flux of saliva.
Genus CXX. Enuresis 5 an involuntary flux of urine
without pain. The species are,
G Enuresis (atomca), after diseases injuring the
sphincter of the bladder.
2. Enuresis (ii'ntata), from a compression or irrita¬
tion of the bladder.
Genus CXX1. Gonorrhoea ; a preternatural flux of
humour from the urethra in men, with or without a
desire of venery. The species are,
1. Gonorrhoea (pura), in which, without any im¬
pure venery having preceded, a fluid resembling pus,
without dysuria or propensity to venery, flows from the
urethra.
2. Gonorrhoea (impura), in which, after impure
venery, a mucous humour flows from the urethra with
dysuria. The consequence of this is,
Gonorrhoea (mucosa), in which, after an impure
gonorrhoea, a mucous humour flows from the urethra
with little or no dysuria.
3. Gonorrhoea (laxorum), in which an humour for
the most part pellucid, without any erection of the
penis, but with a propensity to venery, flows from the
urethra while the person is awake.
4. Gonorrhoea (dormientivm), in which the seminal
liquor is thrown out, with erection and desire of vene-
ry, in those who are asleep and have lascivious dreams.
Order \ . Epischeses j suppressions of evacuations.
Genus CXXII. Obstipatio 5 the stools either sup¬
pressed, or slower than usual. The species are,
1. Obstipatio (debilium), in lax, weak, and for the
most part dyspeptic persons.
2. Obstipatio (rigidorum), in people whose fibres are
rigid, and frequently of an hypochondriac disposition.
3. Obstipatio (obstructorinn), with symptoms of the
colica, 1st, 2d, 4th, and 7th, above-mentioned.
Genus CXXIII. Ischuria } an absolute suppression
of urine. The species are,
x. Ischuria (renalis), coming after a disease of the
kidneys, with pain, or troublesome sense of weight in
the region of the kidneys, and without any swelling of
the hypogastrium, or desire of making water.
2. Ischuria (ureteried), coming after a disease of the
kidneys, with a sense of pain or uneasiness in some part
of the ureter, and without any tumour of the hypoga¬
strium, or desire of making water.
3. Ischuria (vesiculis), with a swelling of the hypo¬
gastrium, pain at the neck of the bladder, and a fre¬
quent stimulus to make water.
4. Ischuria (urethralis), with a swelling of the hypo¬
gastrium, frequent stimulus to make water, and pain in
some part of the urethra.
All these species are subdivided into many varieties,
according to their different causes.
Genus CXXIV. Dysuria j a painful, and somehow
impeded emission of urine. The species are,
- 1. Dysuria t
24-0
MEDICINE.
Practi
General j. DysurJa (jardcm')i with licat of urine, without any
Arrange- nianJfcst disorder of the bladder.
Diseases 2. Dysuria (spasmodica), from a spasm communicated
y—-/.from the other parts to the bladder.
3. Dysuria (com press ion is), from the neighbouring
parts pressing upon the bladder.
4. Dysuria (phlogistica), from an inflammation of
the neighbouring parts.
5. Dysuria (irritata), with signs of a stone in the
bladder.
6. Dysnria (mucosa), with a copious excretion of
r mucus.
Genus CXXV. Dyspermatismus j a slow, impeded,
and insufficient emission of semen in the venereal act.
The species are,
1. Dyspermatismus {urethralis), from diseases of the
urethra.
2. Dyspermatismus (nodosus), from knots on the cor¬
pora cavernosa penis.
3. Dyspermatismus (prceputialis), from too narrow
an orifice of the prepuce.
4. Dyspermatismus (pnucosus), from mucus infarct-
ing the urethra.
5. Dyspermatismus (hijpertonicus), from too strong
an ex-ection of the penis.
6. Dyspermatismus (epilepticus), from a spasmodic
. epilepsy happening during the time of coition.
7. Dyspermatismus (apraetodes), from an imbecility
of the parts of generation.
8. Dyspermatismus (rejluus), in which there is no
emission of semen, because it returns from the urethra
into the bladder.
Genus CXXVI. Amenorrhcea. The menses either
flowing more spai'ingly than usual, or not at all, at their
usual time, without pregnancy. The species ax-e,
1. Amenox*rhoea (emansionis), in those arrived at
.puberty, in whom, after the usual time, the menses have
not yet made their appeai’ance, and many different mor¬
bid aft'ections have taken place.
2. Amenorrhoca (suppression is), in adults, in whom
the menses which had ali'eady begun to flow ax*e sup¬
pressed.
3. Amenorrhcea (difjicilis), in which the menses flow
, sparingly, and with difficulty.
. Order VI. Tumores , an increased magnitude of
any part without phlogosis.
Genus CXXVII. Aneurisma ; a soft tumor, with
. pulsation,, above an artery.
Genus CXXVIII. Varix, a soft tumour, without pul¬
sation, above a vein.
Genus CXXIX. Ecchymoma 3 a diffused, little emi¬
nent, and livid tumour.
Genus CXXX. Schirrus j an hard tumour of some
part, generally of a gland, without pain, and difficultly
. brought to suppuration.
Genus CXXXI. Cancer*, a painful tumor of a
sehirrous nature, and degenerating into an ill condi¬
tioned ulcer.
Genus CXXXII. Bubo 3 a suppurating tumor of
a conglobate gland.
Genus CXXXIII. Sarcoma 3 a soft sxvelling, without
pain.
Genus CXXXIV. Verruca 3 a harder scabrous swell¬
ing.
Genus CXXXV. Clavus 3 a hard, lamellated thick- Gene,
ness of the skin. Arran;
Genus CXXXVL Lupia. A moveable, soft tumor meat
below the skin, without pain. ,Dlsea‘
Genus CXXXVII. Ganglion. A hai'd moveable ^""’r
swelling, adhering Jo a tendon.
Genus CXXXVIII. Hydatis3 a cuticular vesicle
filled with aqueous humour.
Genus CXXXIX. Hy dart hr us 3 a most painful swell¬
ing of the joints, chiefly of the knee, at first scarce ele¬
vated, of the same colour with the skin, diminishing
the mobility.
Genus CXL. Exostosis 3 a hard tumor adhering to a
bone.
Order VII. Ectopia 3 tumors occasioned by the re¬
moval of some part out of its proper situation.
Genus CXLI. Hernia ; an ectopia of a soft part as
yet covered with the skin and other integuments.
Genus CXL1I. Prolapsus 3 a bare ectopia of some <
soft part.
Genus CXLIII. Luxatio 3 the removal of a bone
from its place in the joints.
Order VIII. Dialyses, A solution of continuity 3
manifest to the sight or touch.
Genus CXLIV. Vulnus 3 a recent and bloody solu¬
tion of the unity of some soft part by the motion of some
hard body.
'Genus CXLV. Ulcus. A purulent or ichorous so¬
lution of a soft part.
Genus CXLVI. Herpes 3 a gx*eat number of phlyc-
tenee or small ulcers, gathering in clusters, creeping,
and obstinate.
Genus CXLVII. Tinea 3 small ulcers among the
roots of the hair of the head, pouring out a fluid which
changes to a white friable scurf.
Genus CXLVIII. Psora. Itchy pustules and little
ulcers of an infectious nature, chiefly infecting the
hands.
Genus CXLIX. Fractura 3 bones broken into large
fragments.
Genus CL. Caries 3 an-ulceration of a bone.
Having thus presented to our readex*s Dr Cullen’s
general systematic view of all the diseases to which the
human body is subjected, we next come to give a more
particular account of the more important affections,
treating of them in the order in which Dr Cullen has
arranged them.
Class I. PYREXLZE, or the Febrile J
Diseases.
Order I. FEBRES,
Or Fevers strictly so called.
Sauvag. Class II. Vog. Class I. Sugar. Class XII*
Morbi Febriles Critici, Lin. Class II.
Sect. I. INTERMITTENTS.
. Intermittentes oi many authoi's 3 Sauv. Class II. Or¬
der HI. Zfw. Class II. Order II. Vog. Class I. Order L
Sag* Class XII. Order III.
The
p ctice,
1J The rcmittenics of other;
l r—; Sag. Class XII. Order 11.
Ifxacerbantes, Lin. Class II. Order III.
Continuae, Vog. Class I. Order II.
Genus I. TERTIANA j the Tertian Fever.
(Tertiana, Sauv. G. 88. Lin. 16. Hoffni. Stahl.
' Cleghorn. Senac.)
The Genuine Tertian.
I (Tertiana legitima, Sentrt.IIoffm. Cleghorn, Minore.
Sauv. Sp. I.)
i. Description. This disease, in its most regular
form, consists of repeated paroxysms, returning every
second day, the patient during the intermediate period
enjoying apparently a state of good health. This is the
most common form of ague, as it is commonly called in
Britain. Each paroxysm consists of three parts, the
cold, the hot, and the sweating stages- The paroxysm
commonly begins with a remarkable shivering, increas¬
ing frequently to a convulsive shaking of the limbs.
The extremities are always cold, sometimes remarkably
so. The cold for the most part is first perceived about
the lumbar regions, from thence ascending along the
spine it turns towards the pit of the stomach. Some¬
times it begins in the first joint of the fingers and tip of
the nose. Sometimes it attacks only a particular part
of the body, as one of the arms, the side of the head,
&c. This cold is often preceded by a heavy and sleepy
torpor, languor, and lassitude, which we are partly to
ascribe to real weakness and partly to mere languor.
To these symptoms succeed yawning and stretching;
after which the cold comes on as above described, not
unfrequently with a pain of the back, and a trouble¬
some sensation of tension in the precordia and hypo¬
chondria. To this succeed nausea and vomiting : and
the more genuine the disease, the more certainly does
the vomiting come on j by which a great deal of tough
mucous matter, and sometimes bilious stuft' or indi¬
gested food, is evacuated during the first paroxysm.
In some there is only a violent straining to vomit,
without bringing up any thing; sometimes, instead of
these symptoms, a diarrhcea occurs, and this chiefly
in weak,, phlegmatic, and aged people, or where an in¬
digested mucous saburra has long remained in the primse
vias.
When these symptoms have continued for an hour
or two, the cold begins to go off, and is succeeded by
a lassitude, languor, and flaccidity of the whole body,
hut chiefly in the limbs, with an uneasy soreness as if
the parts had been bruised; excepting in those cases
where the nausea continues for a longer time. After
this languor, a heat comes on, the increase of which is
generally slow, but sometimes otherwise, with pain of
the head, thirst, and bitterness in the mouth. The
pulse is quick and unequal; sometimes beating 130
strokes in a minute. As soon as this heat has abat¬
ed, a little moisture or sweat is observed to break
forth; not always indeed in the first, but always in the
succeeding paroxysms, and the urine lets fall a quan¬
tity of lateritious sediment. The whole paroxysm is
seldom over in less than six hours, more frequent¬
ly eight, and in violent cases it extends to 1 2 hours j
but that which exceeds 12 hours is to be reckoned a
spurious kind, and approaching to the nature of conti-
Vox. XIII. Part L f
241
nued fevers. All these symptoms, however, are repeat- Tertiana.
ed every second day, in such a manner that the patient-v—
is quite free from fever for at least 24 hours. The pa¬
roxysms return much about the same time, though
sometimes a little sooner or later.
2. Causes oj this disease and persons subject to it.
1 he genuine tertian attacks men rather than women,
young people rather than old: the latter being more
subject to anomalous tertians. It likewise seizes the
lusty and active, rather than the lazy and indolent.
Those, however, who are apt to nauseate their meat
fall easily into a tertian fever. The cause, according
to Dr Cullen, is the miasma of marshes, and that
only. Other physicians have taken in many more
causes, almost every thing indeed which debilitates
the body : but the Doctor denies that any of tiiese,
though they may dispose the body for receiving the
disease, or may augment it, can by any means produce
it without the concurrence of the marsh miasma, and
it cannot be denied, that it is a disease almost pe¬
culiar to marshy situations. Thus we find it very fre¬
quent in the fenny counties of Britain, although in
other parts of this island it may be considered as a very
rare disease; nay, in many it may perhaps be said that
it never occurs. And it is also well known that inter-
mittents have almost entirely disappeared in many parts
of Britain, in which they wrere very common before the
marshes of these places were drained.
3. Prognosis. The genuine simple tertian, unless
improper medicines be administex-ed, is generally very
easily cured j nay, the vulgar reckon it of such a salu¬
tary nature, that after it they imagine a person be¬
comes more strong and healthy than before. Hippo¬
crates has observed, that these fevers terminate of
their own accoi'd after seven or nine paroxysms.
Juncker tells us, that it frequently terminates before
the seventh paroxysm, but rarely before the fourth.
He also denies that any thing critical is to be observed
in its going offj but in this he differs from Vogel,
who tells us, that the urine, for some days after the
fever is quite gone off, appears slimy, and lets fall much
sediment. The latter also informs us, that besides the
common crisis by sweat and urine, the tertian hath one
peculiar to itself, namely, dry scabby ulcers breaking
out upon the lips. These sometimes appear about the
third or fourth paroxysm j and then we may venture
to foretel that the disease will go off spontaneously
after the seventh. But though the disease be ndver
dangerous, in cold climates, at least, when properly
ti’eated 5 yet the improper use of hot and stimulating
medicines may change it into a continued fever, more
or less dangerous according to the quantity of medi¬
cines taken and the constitution of the patient; in
which case the prognosis must be x'egulated by the par¬
ticular symptoms which occur. In warm climates,
however, the tertian fever may be considered as a
much moi'e alai’ming disease; and unless the most
powerful remedies be employed, the patient is in dan¬
ger of falling a victim to every paroxysm.
A variety of theories have been proposed for ex¬
plaining the phenomena of this affection ; but we may
assert, that every thing hitherto said upon the sub¬
ject is highly unsatisfactory. For although it be now
almost universally admitted, that this fever does ai'ise
from the effluvia of marshes, yet in what manner the
H h action
M E D 1 C I N £.
Sauv. Class II. Order II.
M E D I
action of those effluvia induces fever, and particularly
why this fever returns in regular paroxysms, are ques¬
tions with regard to which we are still totally in the
dark. Dr Cullen, with much ingenuity, attempted
to prove, that the remote causes of this, as well as of
other fevers, operate by inducing a state, of debility ;
that this debility gives rise to spasm, which induces in¬
creased action, from which the phenomena are to be ex¬
plained. But this theory is liable to no less numerous
and unsurmountable objections than the exploded hypo¬
theses which had before been proposed by others. I or
it is an undeniable truth, that debility often exists, even
to the highest imaginable degree, without any fever j
nay, that when fever has taken place, the debility is
often much greater after it is entirely gone than at
any period during its course. W hen spasm and in¬
creased action do take place, we have no reason to view
them in any other light than merely as symptoms of
the disease j and while they are often absent in this
affection, they frequently occur in others where the
sickness, anxiety, and other characterizing symptoms
of fever are entirely absent : and, upon the whole, a
probable or rational theory of intermittents, as well as
of other fevers, still remains to be discovered.
Cure. The treatment of all genuine intermittents,
whether tertians, quotidians, or quartans, being almost
precisely the same, the general method of cure appli¬
cable to all of them may be here given, to which it
will be easy to refer when we come to describe the
others.
In treating intermittent fevers,physicians have formed
indications of cure according to their different theories.
The followers of Boerhaave, Stahl, &c. who imagined
that the disease proceeded from a lentor or other dis¬
orders in the blood, always thought it necessary to cor¬
rect and evacuate these peccant humours by emetics and
purgatives, before they attempted to stop the disease by
the Peruvian bark or any other medicine. Cinchona
indeed, among some, seems to be held in very little esti¬
mation : since Vogel affirms, that this medicine, instead
of deserving to have the preference of all other febri¬
fuge medicines, ought rather to be ranked among the
lowest of the whole •, and for this reason he ascribes the
cures, said to be obtained by the use of the Peruvian
bark, entirely to nature.
According to Dr Cullen, the indications of cure in
intermitting fevers may be reduced to the following:
1. In the time of intermission, to prevent the return
of the paroxysms.
2. In the time of paroxysms, to conduct these in such
a manner as to obtain a final solution of the disease.
3. To take off certain circumstances which might
prevent the fulfilling of the two first indications.
The first indication may be answered in two ways :
I. By increasing the action of the heart and arteries
some time before the period of accession, and support¬
ing that increased action till the period of accession be
over, and thus preventing the recurrence of that atony
and spasm of the extreme vessels, which he thinks give
occasion to the recurrence of pai'oxysms. 2. By sup¬
porting the tone of the vessels, and thereby preventing
atony and the consequent spasm, without increasing
the action of the heart and arteries, the recurrence ot
paroxysms may be prevented.
The action of the heart and arteries may be increas-
CINE. Practi<
ed, 1. By various stimulant remedies internally given Tertia
or externally applied, and that without exciting sweat.v—-y
2. By the same remedies, or by others, managed in
such a manner as to excite sweating, and to support that
sweating till the period of accession be for some time
past. 3. By emetics, supporting for the same time the
tone and action of the extreme vessels.
The tone of the extreme vessels may be supported
without increasing the. action of the heart and arteries,
by various tonic medicines ; as, 1. Astringents alone.
2. Bitters alone. 3. Astringents and bitters conjoined.
4. Astringents and aromatics conjoined. 5. Certain
metallic tonics 5 and, 6. Opiates. A good deal of ex¬
ercise, and as full a diet as the condition of the patient’s
appetite and digestion allow, will be proper during the
time of intermission, and may be considered as belonging
to this head. Although many particulars in this plan of
cure are deduced from Dr Cullen’s theory, yet there
can be no doubt that the object chiefly to be aimed at
is to employ such remedies during the intermissions as
will prevent a recurrence of the paroxysm. Of all the
remedies hitherto employed with this intention, the most
celebrated, perhaps the most certainly effectual, is the
Peruvian bark j or, to speak more properly, the bark of
the Cinchona ojficinalis of Linnaeus. But it must be
observed, that good effects are only to be expected from
this medicine when employed in substance and in large
quantity •, and for its use the following rules or obser¬
vations have been given:
1. The cinchona may with safety be employed at any
period of intermitting fevers, providing that at the same
time there be neither a phlogistic diathesis prevailing
in the system, nor any considerable or fixed congestion
present in the abdominal viscera.
2. The proper time for exhibiting the cinchona in
intermittent fevers is during the time of intermission,
and it is to be abstained from in the time of paroxysms.
3. In the case of genuine intermittents, while a due
quantity of cinchona is employed, the exhibition of it
ought to be brought as near to the time of accession as
the condition of the patient’s stomach will allow.
4. In all cases of intermittents, it is not sufficient that
the recurrence of paroxysms be stopped for once by the
use of the cinchona j a relapse is commonly to be ex¬
pected, and should be prevented by the exhibition of
the cinchona repeated at proper intervals.
The advantage of administering the medicine as early
as possible, was fully ascertained by Dr Lind in the years
1765, 1766, and 1767, during an uncommon prevalence
of intermittents. When the disease was stopped by the
cinchona immediately after the first or second fit, which
was the case with 200 of the Doctor’s patients as well
as himself, neither a jaundice nor dropsy ensued *, where¬
as, when the cinchona could not be administered, on
account of the impei’fect intei'mission of the fever, or
when the patient had neglected to take it, either a
dropsy, jaundice, or constant headach, were the certain
consequences, and the violence of the disease was m
proportion to the number of the pi*eceding fits, or to
the continuance of the fever. By every paroxysm the
dropsical swellings were visibly increased, and the co¬
lour of the skin rendered of a deeper yellow. When
the fever continued a few days without intermission, the
belly and legs generally swelled $ a violent headach,
likewise, and vertigo, for the most part distressed the
patient J
p, ctice.
j res patient j so that some, even after the fever had left
^ r—J them, were not able to walk across their chamber for
a fortnight or three weeks. W hen the returns of the
fever were regular and even, but slight, four or five fits
of a simple tertian were sometimes followed by the
most dangerous symptoms •, especially in the year 1765,
when these fevers raged with the greatest violence. If,
as frequently happened, a dropsical patient relapsed in¬
to the intermittent, there was an absolute necessity for
putting an immediate stop to it by the cinchona j and in
upwards of 70 such patients, Dr Lind observed the most
beneficial effects to accrue from this practice. Without
regard to a cough, or any other chronical indisposition,
he ordered it to be given in large doses.
Cinchona has been often observed to fail in removing
intermittents, from not continuing the use of it for a
sufficient length of time, from administering it in too
small a dose, or from giving it in an improper form. It
was a prevailing opinion, that an ounce, or an ounce
and a half, taken during one intermission, was suffi¬
cient to prevent the return of another paroxysm. But
this is not always the case ; for a severe fit will often
attack a patient who has taken such a quantity. W hen
this happens, the patient ought to persevere during the
following intermissions, with an increase of the dose, till
five or six ounces at least have been taken. The medi¬
cine also ought not to be omitted as soon as one fit is
stopped, but should be continued in a smaller dose, and
after longer intervals, for at least ten days or a fortnight.
Even for several months after the disease is entirely
removed, it would be advisable to take a little occasion¬
ally in damp weather, or during an easterly wind, to
prevent a relapse. W here the intervals between the fits
are short, as in quotidians and double tertians, from one
to two drams of it ought to be taken every two or
three hours.
The form in which this medicine is administered is
of some consequence. Mucilages and syrups have
been recommended to conceal the taste of it} but,
from various experiments, Dr Lind found nothing
more effectual for this purpose than small beer or
milk, especially the latter. A dram of bark mixed
with two ounces of milk, and quickly drank, may
easily be taken by a person of the most delicate taste,
and by washing the mouth afterwards with milk, there
will not remain the least flavour of the bark j but if
the mixture be not drank immediately, the bark will
impart a bitter taste to the milk. This medicine is
commonly given in electuaries or boluses j but Dr
Lind observes, that in these forms it proves much less
efficacious than w hen administered in juleps or draughts,
with the plentiful addition of wine or spirits. He has
remarked, that six drams of powdered bark, given
m a julep, consisting of one-fourth or one-third of
brandy, is as effectual as an ounce of the powder in
the form of an electuary, and proves less disagreeable
to the stomach. For patients unaccustomed to wine
or spirits, each draught should be warmed with spiri-
tus ammoniac, or tinct. myrrh, by both of which the
efficacy of the bark is he thinks increased. Dr Lind is
also fully convinced that wine or spirits improve the
'irtues of-the bark much more than elixir vitrioli, tinct.
losar. or such other medicines as have been recommend¬
ed by different physicians.
I or those who nauseate cinchona from a weakness
243
of the stomach or other cause, he advises it to he Tertiana.
given in clysters, in which form it is, he tells us, as effi- 1 v"”" -1
cacious as when taken by the mouth. For this purpose
the extract is most proper with the addition of a sufficient
quantity of the tinctura thebaica, in order to its being
longer retained. For children labouring under in¬
termitting fevers, Dr Lind orders the spine of the
back to be anointed, at the approach of the fit, with
a liniment composed of equal parts of tinctura the¬
baica and liniment, sapon. which has often prevent¬
ed it. If this should not produce the desired effect,
he informs us that two or three tea-spoonfuls of syrup,
e niecon. given in the hot fit, will generally mitigate
the symptoms. But for the entire removal of the disease,
after purging with magnesia alba, he prescribes a dram
of the extract, cinchome with a few drops of tinct. the¬
baic. in a clyster, to be repeated every three hours for
a child of about a year old. When the stomach is op¬
pressed with phlegm, the magnesia frequently occasions
vomiting, which should be promoted with warm water.
The constant heaviness of the head occasioned by those
fevers in such tender constitutions is best relieved by
the application of a blistor to the hack.
Cinchona has also proved effectual for the cure of
intermittents in children, even when externally applied,
by putting the powder of it into a quilted waistcoat.
Of its efficacy in this way several instances are related
by Dr Samuel Pye in the second volume of Medi¬
cal Observations and Inquiries. In short, so effectual
was it found in removing these fevers when properly ap¬
plied, that of between four and five hundred afflicted
with them in the year 1765, Dr Lind lost only two,
neither of whom had taken this medicine.
In all these cases, a vomit wns administered when¬
ever the patient complained of a sickness and retching
to vomit, or was seized with a spontaneous vomiting $
and cinchona was never given till this sickness was
removed, or a purgative taken to clear more perfectly
the whole alimentary canal. In those patients who
were troubled with a cough, attended with a pain
in the side affecting the breathing, when the pain
was not relieved by warm fomentations, the balsa-
mum anodynum, or by a blister, Dr Lind gene¬
rally ordered a few ounces of blood to be taken
away, and endeavoured to stop the fever as soon as
possible by the administration of cinchona ; having
found that every return of the fever increased all such
pains.—When the headach was very violent, and
harassed the patient during the intermissions, the suc¬
cess of cinchona was rendered more complete by the
application of a blister to the back.—A giddiness cf
the head, which is the symptom most commonly re¬
maining after even a slight intermitting fever, was ge¬
nerally relieved by the sal C. C. and cinchona in wine.
The former of these was administered in the following
manner.
II. Aq. Alex. Simp. 3vii.
Sal C. C. 5ss.
Syr. e Cort. Aurant. 3i* juleP- CaP‘
cochlear, ij. subinde.
If from the continuance of the fever the patient was
distressed with a flatulence, a distention of the abdomen,
and a swelling of the legs, a spoonful of tinctura sa¬
cra, with the addition of 30 drops of the spirit, lavend.
compos, was ordered to be taken every night.—A
* H h Z continuance.
MEDICINE.
244 M E D I
Febres. continuance of cinchona, a change of air, and the cold
—v’——^ bath, were often found requisite to prevent a relapse.
Such is the method of cure recommended by this
experienced author, who has also discovered the effica¬
cy and success of opium in intermitting fevers. He
informs us, that he has prescribed an opiate to up¬
wards of 300 patients labouring under this disease 5
and he observed, that, if taken during the intermission,
it had not the least effect either in preventing or mi¬
tigating the succeeding paroxysm: when given in the
cold fit, it once or twice seemed to remove it j but
when given half an hour after the commencement ot
the hot fit, it generally gave immediate relief.—
When given in the hot fit, the effects of opium are
as follow : 1. It shortens and abates the fit j and
this with more certainty than an ounce of cinchona
is found to remove the disease. 2. It generally gives a
sensible relief to the head, takes off the burning heat
of the fever, and occasions a profuse sweat. This
sweat is attended with an agreeable softness of the
skin, instead of the burning sensation which affects
patients sweating in the hot fit, and is always much
more copious than in those ^ho have not taken opium.
3. It often produces a soft and refreshing sleep to a
patient tortured in the agonies of the fever, from which
he awakes bathed in sweat, and in a great measure free
from all complaints.
Dr Lind has always observed, that the effects of
opium are more uniform and constant in intermitting
fevers than in any other disease, and are then more
quick and obvious than those of any other medicine.
An opiate thus given soon after the commencement of
the hot fit, by abating the violence and lessening the
duration of the fever, preserves the constitution so en¬
tirely uninjured, that, since he used opium in agues, a
dropsy or jaundice has seldom attacked any of his pa¬
tients in those diseases. When opium did not imme¬
diately abate the symptoms of the fever, it never in¬
creased their violence. On the contrary, most pa¬
tients reaped some benefit from an opiate given in the
hot fit, and many of them bore a larger dose at that
time than they could do at any other. He assures us,
that even a delirium in the hot fit is not increased by
opium, though opium will not remove it. Hence he
thinks it probable, that many symptoms attending these
fevers are spasmodic } but more especially the beadach.
However, if the patient be delirious in the fit, the
administration of the opiate ought to be delayed until
he recovers his senses, when it will be found greatly to
telieve the weakness and faintness which commonly suc¬
ceed the delirium. Hr Lind is of opinion, that opium
in this disease is the best preparative for cinchona } as it
not only produces a complete intermission, in which case
alone that remedy can be safely administered 5 but oc¬
casions such a salutary and copious evacuation by sweat,
as generally to render a much less quantity of cinchona
requisite. He commonly prescribes the opiate in about
two ounces of tinctura sacra, when the patient is cos¬
tive, who is to take the cinchona immediately after the
fit. By these means the paroxysm is shortened, and
the intestines are cleansed, previous to the administra¬
tion of cinchona ; as the opiate doth not prevent, but
only somewhat retards, the operation of the purgative.
When a vomit is given immediately before the paroxysm,
the administration of the opiate should be postponed till
the hot fit be begun.
CINE. Practic
In the administration of cinchona, care should he Tertiar
taken that it be of a good quality. And different opi--y-
nions have been entertained with respect to the choice,
even where there is no reason to believe that it has been
adulterated by the mixture of other articles. For a long
time, the preference was given to small quilled pieces
of pale-coloured bark ; but of late the red bark, which
is generally in larger masses, of an apparently coarser
texture, and evidently of a more resinous nature, has
been highly celebrated by Dr Saunders and others.
And in cases where it does not disagree with the sto¬
mach or excite looseness, it is admitted by the most ac¬
curate observers to be more powerful in preventing the
return of intermittents. W hether the red bark be the
product of a different species of the cinchona, or be ob¬
tained as well as the pale quilled bark from the cinchona
officinalis, is not yet ascertained with sufficient accura¬
cy. Cinchona of a yellow colour has lately been im¬
ported into Britain and highly extolled. Its botanical
history is not ascertained. It contains more bitter ex¬
tractive matter, and more tannin and gallic acid, than
either the pale or red ; but less gum than the pale, and
less resin than the red. It seems to produce the same
medical effects in smaller doses. And it has sometimes
succeeded in the cure of intermittents where the pale
and red cinchona have before been employed in vain.
A species of cinchona, distinguished by the title of
cinchona Jamaicensis, has been discovered in Jamaica
and other islands in the Wrest Indies. A very accurate
description of it has been given by Dr Wright of Ja¬
maica in the Philosophical Transactions of London. The
bark of this species also has been recommended in
the cure of intermittents; but the advantages of it
have not hitherto been sufficiently confirmed by experi¬
ence.
The barks of various trees readily cultivated in
Britain, particularly different species of the salix, the
prunus, the fraxinus, and the quercus, have by some
been represented as no less efficacious than the cincho¬
na. But we may safely venture to assert, that although
several of them may possess some power in stopping in¬
termittents, yet that none hitherto tried can be consi¬
dered as in any degree approaching to the cinchona in
point of efficacy.
But although the Peruvian bark be the best cure
for intermittents hitherto discovered, yet while it can
by no means be represented as the only cure, it is very
certain that other remedies have in different cases suc¬
ceeded after the cinchona has failed. Cures have of¬
ten been obtained by the use of diflerent aromatics,
bitters, and astringents. Many articles from the mi¬
neral kingdom also have been employed with advan¬
tage. And intermittents have unquestionably been in
certain cases stopped by different preparations of iron,
zinc, copper, lead, and mercury. But of all the ar¬
ticles of this nature, arsenic of late has been the most
celebrated. Arsenic is on good grounds conjectured
to be the basis of an article much employed in the
cure of intermittents in some of the countries where
they are most prevalent, and sold under the title of
the tasteless ague drop. The great success attending
the use of this article, led Dr Fowler, an ingenious phy¬
sician of Stafford, to examine it with particular atten¬
tion. And in a treatise which he has lately published,
entitled Medical Reports on the effects of arsenic in the
cure of agues, he has given a formula for an arsenical
solution,
es solution, which he has found very successful in aflec-
—' tions of this kind, and which is probably very nearly
the same with the tasteless ague drop. Dr Fowler’s
mineral solution, as he styles it, is formed by dissolving
64 grains of arsenic and as much fixed vegetable al¬
kaline salt in a pound of distilled water. This solu¬
tion is given in doses from three to 12 drops, varied
according to the condition of the patient, and re¬
peated two or three times a-day. And where the
cinchona has failed in stopping intermittents, it seems
to be one of the most powerful remedies yet dis¬
covered. But after all remedies prove ineffectual, in¬
termittents are often stopped by a change of season and
of situation.
But besides the remedies employed in tertians and
other intermittents, with the view of preventing the
return of paroxysms, it is often also necessary to em¬
ploy powerful articles with other intentions, particularly
to mitigate and shorten the paroxysm when present j to
obviate urgent symptoms, especially those of an inflam¬
matory or putrid nature 5 and to obtain a complete apy-
rexia or intermission from fever after the paroxysm has
ceased. With these intentions, recourse is not unfre-
quently had to emetics, laxatives, blood-letting, opium,
diluents, or sudorifics, as the circumstances of the case
may require.
The Irregular or Spurious Tertian.
Sp. I. var. I. B.
Tertiana notha sive spuria, Sauv. sp. 2. Scnnci't.
Cleghorn. Hoffman.
The characteristic marks of this fever are, that its
paroxysms last longer than 1 2 hours, and consequently
it inclines more to the quotidian or continued fever than
the former. Its paroxysms have no stated hour of
attacking. The cure, however, is precisely the same
with that above described, observing the proper cau¬
tions already mentioned with regard to the use of the
cinchona.
The Double Tertian. Sp. 1. var. 2. C.
Tertiana duplex, Sauv. sp. 13. Vog. G. 12. Sennert.
Cleghorn.
Duplicata, Lin. 18.
The double tertian comes on every day ; hut differs
from the quotidian in this, that its paroxysms do not
answer to each other singly, but alternately. The
first day, for instance, the fit will come on in the fore¬
noon, in the second in the afternoon, the third in the
forenoon, and the fourth in the aftei'noon.
Of these fevers we shall give the following descrip¬
tion from Cleghorn’s treatise on the diseases of Mi¬
norca : “ They are called double tertians when there
are two fits and two intervals within the time of each
period. But commonly there is some diflerence between
the two fits, either in respect of the hour they come
at, the time of their duration, or the nature and vio¬
lence of their concomitant symptoms. Some double
tertians begin in this manner.—On the evening of
Monday, for example, a slight fit comes on, and goes
oft early next morning j but on Tuesday, towards the
middle of the day, a more severe paroxysm begins,
and continues till night. Then there is an interval to
Wednesday evening, when a slight fit commences a
new period of the fever, which proceeds in the same
manner as the first} so that according to the way Tertiana.
physicians calculate the days of diseases, (by beginning —v——J
to reckon from the first hour of their invasion,) both
paroxysms happen on the odd days, while the greatest
part of the even days is calm and undisturbed. But
in most double tertians the patient has a fit every day
of the disease $ the severe one commonly appearing at
noon upon the odd days, the slight one towards even¬
ing on the even days ; though sometimes the worst of
two fits happen on the even days.
“ There is a tertian fever sometimes to be met with,
during each period of which there are three different
fits, and as many intervals. For example, towards
Monday noon the patient is seized with a paroxysm,
which declines about five or six o’clock the same even¬
ing ; a few hours after, another fit begins, and con¬
tinues until morning; from which time there is an in¬
terval to Tuesday evening, when a third fit comes on,
and lasts most part of the night. On Wednesday
there are again two paroxysms, as on Monday, and on
Thursday like that of Tuesday 5 and thus the fever
goes on with a double fit on each of the odd days, and
a single fit on the even days.
“ In double tertians, that interval is the most con¬
siderable which follows the severe fit j for the slight
fit oftener ends in a remission than intermission, and fre¬
quently lingers till the other approaches : Hence it
is, that the night preceding the vehement fit is much
more restless than that which comes after it, as has
been observed by Hippocrates. In double tertians,
the vehement fit often comes on a little earlier in each
period, while the slight fit returns at the same hour,
or perhaps later and later every second day : so that the
motions of one have no influence on those of the other ;
from whence it appears that each of these fits hath
its own proper independent causes.”
Duplicated Tertian. Sp. I. var. 2. D. i2g
Tertiana duplicata, Sauv. sp. 14. Jones. River.
This hath two fits on the same day, with an inter¬
mediate day on which there are none. This also does
not differ in any remarkable particular from those al¬
ready described.
The Tt'iplc Tertian. Sp. I. var. 2. D. J30
Tertiana triplex, Sauv. sp. 15. Cleghorn.
Semitertiana, Hoffman.
Semitertiana primi ordinis, Spig.
This differs from the former in having a single and
double fit alternately: thus, for instance, if there be
two fits the first day, there is only one the second,
two the third, one the fourth, &c. Its cure is the same
as before.
The &7rct-TERTlAN. Sp. I. var. 2. F. 131
Hemitritseus, Cels.
Semitertiana, Cleghorn.
Semitertiana secundi ordinis, Spig.
Amphimerina hemitritaeus, Sauv. sp. 8.
Amphimerina pseudo-hemitritaeus, Sauv. sp. 9.
The semitertian is described by Dr Cullen as having
only an evident remission between its paroxysms 5 more
x-emarkable between the odd and even day, but less
so between the even and odd one. 1 or tins i*eason,
he adds, that possibly some semitertians ought rather
to
\
246
I’ebres. to be classed among the remittents; and owns that it is
difficult to Settle the boundaries between them. But
Cleghorn, whom he quotes, describes it in the follow¬
ing manner. “ A fit begins on Monday noon, for
example, and goes off the same night. On Tuesday
afternoon a second fit comes on, and gradually in¬
creases till Wednesday night, when it terminates. On
Thursday morning there is such another interval as
happened on Tuesday morning: But on Thursday
afternoon another long fit like the preceding com¬
mences j and returning regularly every second day, leaves
only a short interval of ten or twelve hours during the
eight and forty.
Concerning the cure of these fevers Dr Cullen ob¬
serves, that though no entire apyrexia occurs, cinchona
may be given during the remissions : and it should be
given even though the x-emissions be inconsidex*able ; it,
from the known nature of the epidemic, intermissions
or considerable i-emissions are not to be expected, and
that great danger is apprehended from repeated exacer¬
bations.
£32 The Sleepy Tertian. Sp. I. var. 3. G.
Tertiana carotica, Sauv. sp. 10. Werlhof,
Tertiana hemiplegica, Sauv. sp. 20. Werlhof.
Quotidiana soporosa, Sauv. sp. 8. Car. Pis.
Febria caput impetens, Sydenham, ep. ad. K. Brady.
Pract
it seized the head, and proved fatal to abundance of Ten
pei-sons.”
From this description of Sydenham’s we may have
an idea of the nature of the disease. As to its cure he
strongly recommends cinchona 5 telling us, that, e en
in the most continued kind of intermittents, “ the nearer
the intermittent approaches to a continued fever, either
spontaneously, or from using too hot a regimen, so much
the more necessary is it to exhibit a larger quantity of
the bark \ and that he took advantage of a remission,
though ever so small.”
The Spasmodic or Convulsive Tertian. Sp. I. j
vai\ 3. H.
Tertiana asthmatica, Sauv. sp. 6. Bonnet.
Tertiana hysterica, Sauv. sp. 8. Wedel. A. N. C.
Dec. I. A. II. obs. 193.
Hysteria febi'icosa, Sauv. G. 135. sp. 8. A. N. C,
Dec. I. Ann. II.
Tertiana epileptica, Sauv. sp. 16. Calder. Lautter.
Quotidiana epileptica, Sauv. sp. 3. Edinb. Essays.
vol. v. art. 49.
Ecclampsia febricosa, Sauv. G. 139. sp. 17.
Epilepsia febricosa, Sauv. G. 134. sp. 9.
Tertiana tetanodes Med. Beobacht I. Band.
Tetanus febricosus, Sauv. G. 122. sp. 10. Stork.
Ann. Med. II.
MEDICINE.
This, according to Vogel, is a most dangerous spe¬
cies, and very commonly fatalfor which reason he
ranks it amongst those intermittents which he calls ma*
lignant. Sometimes he tells us the alarming symptom
of a sleepiness comes on, not at the beginning of the
disease, but will unexpectedly occur during the third,
fourth, fifth, or sixth paroxysm. It commonly begins
with the cold fit, and continues during the whole time
of the paroxysm, and, becoming stronger at every suc¬
ceeding one, at last terminates in a mortal apoplexy.
Sometimes fevers of this kind rage epidemically. Vo¬
gel relates, that he saw a simple tertian changed into
one of these dangerous fevers. The patient was a wo¬
man of a delicate constitution, and the symptoms ap¬
peared in consequence of her being put in a violent
passion: howevex*, it occurred but once, and she reco¬
vered. Hoffman mentions a carus in a double tertian
occurring seven times without proving mortal $ though
Vogel says, that the powers of nature are very seldom
sufficient to conquer the disease.
In 1678, Dr Sydenham tells us that intermittents
raged epidemically at London, where none had ap¬
peared before from 1664. Of them “ it is to be noted
(says he), that though quax-tans were most frequent
formerly, yet now tertians or quotidians were most
common, unless the latter be entitled double tertians 1
and likewise, that though these tertians sometimes
began with chilness and shivering, which were suc¬
ceeded first by heat, and soon after by sweat, and end¬
ed at length in a perfect intermission, returning again
after a fixed time $ yet they did not keep this order
after the third or fourth fit, especially if the patient
was confined to his bed and used hot cardiacs, which
increase the disease. But afterwards this fever be¬
came so unusually violent, that only a remission hap¬
pened in the place of an intei'mission; and approach¬
ing every day nearer the species of continued fevers,
Tertians of this kind occur with very different
symptoms from those of the true ones, and sometimes
even with those which are very extraordinary. In
some they are attended with symptoms of asthma,
in others with those of hysterics, in others with con¬
vulsions. Where the symptoms of asthma occur, the
disease must be treated with diuretics and antispasmo-
dics joined xvitlx cinchona. In the hysteric asthma the
fit comes on with cold, yawning, cardialgia, terror
and dejection of mind. The disease is to be remov*
ed by mild aperients and antihysterics joined with cin¬
chona.
Of the convulsive tertian we have a most remarkable
instance in the Edinburgh Medical Essays, vol. v.
The patient w'as a farmer’s son about 26 years of ag«,
of a strong plethoric habit of body. He had labour¬
ed under an ague half-a year, and had taken a great
deal of Peiuxvian bark. While he was telling his case
to the surgeon (Mr Baine of Pembroke), he xvas sud¬
denly taken with a violent stamping of his feet; and
the convulsions gj-adually ascended from the soles of the
feet to his legs, thighs, belly, back, and shoulders.
His head was then most violently convulsed, with a
total deprivation of speech; but he had a most dismal
vociferation, which might have been heai*d at a con¬
siderable distance, his abdomen and thorax working
and heaving violently and unusually in the mean time.
This fit having lasted half an hour, a profuse sweat
broke out over all his body, which relieved him ; and
he then became capable of answering such questions
as were put. These extraordinary fits, he said, had
been occasioned by a fright, and his neighbours had
concluded that he was bewitched. They returned
sometimes twice a-day, and always at the times the
ague used to return. During the paroxysm his pulse
was very high and quick, his face much inflamed,
and his eyes ready to start out of his head. After
piftice.
Fy fS the fit was over, he complained of a most torturing
w ; pain of the bowels. His tongue was generally moist,
and he had a suppression of urine.—This formidable
disease, however, was totally subdued by the use of
cinchona, mercurials, antispasmodics, opiates, and saline
draughts.
The Eruptive Tertian. Sp. I. var. 3. I.
Tertiana petechialis, Sauv. sp. 4. Donat. Lautter.
Tertiana scorbutica, Wedel. A. N. C. Dec. I. A.
II. obs. 193.
Tertiana urticata, Sauv. sp. 22. Planchon. Journ. de
Med. 1765. Cleghorn.
Tertiana miliaris, Sauv. sp. 21. Walthieri de Med.
Ger.
This species of tertian is accompanied with red or
livid blotches on the skin, or an eruption like that oc¬
casioned by the stinging of nettles. In the latter case
Dr Cleghorn says the disease is very dangerous 5 and
as the former indicates an incipient dissolution and pu¬
trefaction of the blood, it must also be reckoned of very
dangerous tendency.
- The Inflammatory Tertian. Sp. I. var. 3. K.
Tertiana pleuritica, Sauv. sp. 4. Vales. Lautt.
Pleuritis periodica, Sauv. G. 103. sp. 14.
Tertiana arthritica, Sauv. sp. 5. Mot'ton. Lautt.
Sauvages informs us, that he has seen a true and
genuine pleurisy having all the pathognomic signs of
the disease, but assuming the form of an intermittent;
that is, the patient is one day affected with the pleuri¬
sy, and the next seemingly in perfect health. He also
tells us, that in the month of May 1760, a tertian
raged epidemically, which after the third fit imitated
a pleurisy, the pain of the side, and difficulty of
breathing coming regularly on, and the fever from
an intermittent becoming remittent ; the blood had
also the same appearance with that of pleuritic per¬
sons, and the distemper yielded to bleeding and gentle
cathartics.—Morton also informs us, that he has ob¬
served similar disorders an hundred times, which were
always certainly and safely cured by the Peruvian
bark.
The Tertian complicated with other Disorders.
Sp. I. var. 4.
Tertiana scorbutica, Sauv. sp. 9. Etmuller, Timceus.
Tertiana syphilitica, >SWt>. sp. 17. Deidier.
Tertiana verminosa, Sauv. sp. 18. Stisscr. in act.
Helmstad. Lands, de noxiis palud. Pringle.
Pamaz-zwii. Van den Bosch, de const, vermin.
The scorbutic tertian, according to Sauvages, is ex¬
ceedingly anomalous, its periods being sometimes much
anticipated, and sometimes much postponed. It is ex¬
ceedingly obstinate, and will return if the body' be
not cleared of its scorbutic taint. The patient is affect¬
ed with lancinating pains of a wandering nature. The
urine lets fall a dusky red sediment, or a thick branny
matter is copiously scattered up and down in it, seem-
Higly tinged with blood. The usual symptoms of scur-
vy, viz. livid spots, and rotten fetid gums, also fre¬
quently occur. For this the Peruvian bark is very use-
fid, both as a febrifuge and antiscorbutic.
L tertian accompanied with worms is taken notice
   . 247
of by Sir John Pringle in his treatise on the diseases of Tertiana.
the army. The worms, he tells us, were of the round ' — v—■ ■1
kind; and though we are by no means to reckon them
the cause ot the fever, they never failed to make it
worse, occasioning obstinate gripings or sickness at sto¬
mach. In these cases stitches were frequent $ but, be¬
ing flatulent, were not often relieved by bleeding. The
w’orms were discharged by vomiting as well as byr stool.
I or discharging these wTorms, he commonly gave half
a dram of rhubarb with 12 grains of calomel 5 without
observing any inconvenience from such a large dose of
mercury. Anthelmintics, which act slowly, had little
chance of doing good; for though worms will some¬
times lie long in the bowels without giving much un¬
easiness to a person otherwise well, yet in a fever, espe¬
cially one of a putrid kind (to which his intermittents
always seemed to incline), the worms being disturbed
by the increase of heat,, and the corruption of the hu¬
mours in the primee vice, begin to move about, and
struggle to get out. Lancisius, who makes this remark,
adds, that upon opening the bodies of some who had
died at Home of fevers of this kind, wounds were found
in the intestines made by the biting of the worms; nay,
that some of them had even pierced through the coats
of the guts, and lay in the cavity of the abdomen.
Pringle never had any instance of this; but knew
many cases in which the worms escaped by the patient’s
mouth, though there had been no previous retching to
bring them up. One soldier was thrown into violent
convulsions, but was cured by the above-mentioned
powder.
The Tertian varied from its Origin. Sp. I. 137
var. 5.
Tertiana accidentalis, Sauv. sp. 12. Si/denham.
Tertiana a scabie, Sauv. sp. 12. Juncker, tab. 80.
Hoffman, II. p. 12.
The existence of fevers of this kind, as we have al¬
ready observed, is denied by Dr Cullen ; the acci¬
dental fever of Sauvages was said to arise from any
slight error in the non-naturals, and consequently was
very easily cured. That which arose from the repul¬
sion of the itch, was cured as soon as the eruption re¬
turned.
138
The Tertian with only a remission between the Remittent
fits. Sp. II. tertian.
Tritseophya, Sauv. Gen. 85. Sag. p. 695.
Tritseus, Lin. 21.
Hemitritsea, Lin. 23.
Tertianae remittentes et continue Auctorum.
Tertianae subintrantes, proport ion at ae, subcontiuuaCj
Porti.
Tertiana svibcontinua, Sauv. sp. 19.
Quotidiana deceptiva, Sauv. sp. 2.
Amphimerina semiquintana, Sauv. sp. 24.
Triteeophya deceptiva, Sauv. sp. I o.
Causus Hippocratis.
Tiitaeophya causus, Sauv. sp. 2.
Febris ardens Boerhaavii, aph. 738.
Tertiana perniciosa, quae simulata tertiani circuitus
effigie lethalis, et mille accidentibus periculosissi-
mis implicata, existit. Lud. Mercatus.
Tertiana pestilens, P. Sal. Diversus.
Tertiana
MEDICINE,
248
Febres.
M E D I
Tertxana maligna pcstilens, Ttivcrii.
Morbus Hungaricus. Lang. Lcmb. Scnncrt. Jor¬
dan.
Languor Pannonicus, Cober.
Amphimerina Hungarica, Sauv. S]>. 10.
Hemitritseus pestilens, Schenck. ex Corn. Gamma.
Febres pestilentes /Egyptiorum, Alpin.
Febris tertiana epidemica, Bartholin.
Febres epidemicae, autumn! 1657 et 1658, JFillis.
Febris syneches epidemica ab anno 1658 ad 1664.
et postea ab anno 1673 ad 1691, Morion.
Febres autumnales incipientes, Sydenham.
Atlectus epidemicus Leidensis, Fr. Sylvii.
Morbus epidemicus Leidensis. 1669, Fanois.
Tertian* pernicios* et pestilentes, et febres castren-
ses epidemic*, Ixincisi.
Febres intermittentes anomal* et mali moris, FLoff-
man.
Febris cholerica minus acuta, Hoffman.
Febris epidemica Leidensis, anno 1719, Koker apud
Haller, Disp. tom. v.
Amphimerina paludosa, Sauv. sp. 19.
Febris paludum, Pringle.
Bononiensis constitutio hiemalis 1729, Bcccari in
A. N, C. vol. iii.
Amphimerina biliosa, Sauv. sp. 22.
Febris castrensis, Pringle.
Febris putrida epidemica, Huxham de acre ad ami.
. 17.29\ .
Febris biliosa Lausanensis, Tissot.
Trit*ophya Wratislaviensis. Sauv. sp. 3. Hahn.
Epidemia verna Wratislav. in App. ad A. N. C.
vol. X.
Trit*ophya Americana, Sauv. sp. 12.
Febris anomala Batava, Grainger.
Morbus Naronianus, Pvjati.
Febris continua remittens, Hillary1 s diseases of Bar-
badoes.
Febris remittens Indi* Orientalis, Lind. diss. inaug.
1768.
Febris critica et febr. biliosa *statis, Bovppe.
Febris remittens regionum calidarum, Lind on the
diseases of hot climates.
A. Tertiana cholerica sive dysenterica, Tort. Therap.
Special, lib. iii. cap. 1. Lautter. Hist. Med. cas. 6.
16. 17. 20. Morton, App. ad Exerc. If.
B. Tertiana subcruenta sive atrabiliaris, Tort. ibid. Ne¬
ver seen by Cleghorn.
C. Tertiana cardiaca, Tort. ibid. Lautter. Hist. Med.
cas. 15. 16. 23.
Amphimerina cardiaca, Sauv. sp. 5.
Trit*ophya assodes, Sauv. sp. 6.
Febris continua assodes, Fog. 27.
X). Tertiana diaphoretica, Tort. ibid.
Trit*ophya typhodes, Sauv. sp. 4.
Trit*ophya elodes, Sauv. sp. 5.
Febris continua elodes, Fog. 21.
E. Tertiana syncopalis, Toi't. ibid. Lautter. case IT.
12. 13. 15. 16.
Trit*ophya syncopalis, Sauv. sp. 1.
Amphimerina syncopalis, Sauv. sp. 4.
Amphimerina humorosa, Sauv. sp. 6.
f ebris continua syncopalis, Fog. 29.
F• Tertiana algida, Tort. ibid. Lautter. cas. 13.
Amphimenna epiala, Sauv. sp. 3.
1
CINE.
Practif
Amphimerina phricodes, Sauv. sp. 7.
Trit*ophya leipyria, Sauv. sp. 9.
Tertiana leipyria, Sauv. sp. 23. Falcartnghi Med.
Ration, p. 18.
Febris continua epiala et leipyria, Fog. 19. et 24.
G. Tertiana lethargica, Tort. ib.
Trit*ophya carotica, Sauv. sp. 7. Lauttcr. 1. 7. 14,
Tertiana apoplectica, Morton. Exerc. I. cap. ix.
hist. 25.
Tertiana soporosa, Werlhof. de febr. p. 6.
Febris epidemica Urbevetanaj Lands, de noxiis pal.
eftluv. I. II. c. 3.
The remittent fevers are much more dangerous than
the time intermittents, as being generally attended with
much greater debility of the nervous system and ten¬
dency to putrescency in the fluids than the latter. Sau-
vages divides his trit*ophya, a remittent tertiart, into
the following species :
1. Tritceophya syncopalis, or that attended with faint- j,
ing. It begins like a tertian, with cold succeeded by
heat and px-ofuse sweating j but attended with much
more dangerous symptoms, such as cardialgia, enormous
vomiting, great weakness, small contracted pulse, cold¬
ness of the extremities, and, unless timely assistance be
given, kills during the second or third pai'Oxysm.
2. The causus, or burning fever of Hippocrates, ^
returns every third day without any new sensation of.
cold; and is attended with great thirst', heat, but with¬
out diari-hoea or sweat, and continues only for one
week or two at the utmost. It attacks chiefly young
people of a robust and bilious habit of a body, w ho have
been accustomed to much exercise, and exposed to the
sun during the heats of summer, and have also used a
phlogistic regimen. The tongue is dry, sometimes
black j the urine of a red or flame colour j together
with pain of the head, anxiety, and sometimes other
symptoms still more dangerous.
3. Tritceophya Fratislavicnsis, was a pestilential dis- ,4
ease occasioned by famine, during which the people fed
on puti’id aliments: the air was infected by the vast num¬
ber of bodies of those slain in battle, and the inhabitants
were also dejected by reason of being deprived of their
harvest, and other calamities ; to all which was added
the continuance of a calm in the atmosphere for a long
time. It began with an acute fever, leipyria or coldness
of the external parts and a sensation of burning heat
inwardly ; general weakness ; pain of the head and
pr*cordia ; serous or bilious diarrhoea j a delirium, in
some furious, and accompanied with a dread of be¬
ing exposed to the air; on the second day the thirst
was violent, attended with a bilious vomiting, as well
as diarrhoea, tough viscid spitting, fainting, burning
heat in the bowels, the tongue di‘y and seeming as it
burnt with a hot iron, a suppi-ession of the voice, anxi¬
ety, stupor, after which quickly followed convulsions
and death. In some fevers leipyria came on with ail
exceeding gx-eat cold of the extremities, presently fol¬
lowed by an intolerable heat of the viscera, with symp¬
tomatic sweats, violent diarrhoea, followed by a very
itchy miliary eruption. On the fourth day came on
copious sweats, spasms of the lower jaw, nausea, invo¬
luntary passing of urine, slight delirium, a flux oi ichor¬
ous matter from the nostrils, an exceeding tough spit¬
ting, an epilepsy, and death. Professor Hahn, who
p dice. ^ MED I
} res gives the history of tins disease, was himself attacked
J j by it, and sufl’ered in the following manner : On the
first day was a violent feverish paroxysm without rigor,
a sharp pain in the occiput, and immediately an inflam¬
matory pain over the whole head} the feet were ex¬
tremely cold, and the extremities rigid with spasms.
The pain continued to increase daily to such a degree,
that the contact of the air itself became at last intoler¬
able j a dejection of mind and incredible weakness fol¬
lowed •, he passed restless nights with continual sweat¬
ing, heavy and pained eyes, and an universal sensation
of rheumatism over the whole body. On the third
day the pains were assuaged, but he had a very bad
night. On the fourth day all the symptoms were worse,
the feet quite chilled, the hands very red and agitated
with convulsive motions $ he w'as terrified with appre¬
hensions of death, and had a vomiting every now and
then : this day sponges dipped in cold water were ap¬
plied over the whole body, and he used cold water for
his drink. On the eighth day the pulse was convul¬
sive •, and the pains were so violent that they made him
cry out almost continually. On the ninth day he was
delirious, and threw up some grumous blood. On the
nth his pulse was more quiet, and he had a swTeat; a
decoction of cinchona was given : his voice was bro¬
ken, his speech interrupted, and his teeth chattered up¬
on one another. On the 12th his jaw was convulsed,
he had a risus sardonicus, and deafness *, after which
the paroxysms returned less frequently, and only to¬
wards night. On the 14th he had a chilling cold over
the whole body, a cold sweat} frequent lotions were
applied, and all the symptoms became milder. On the
18th he had a quick delirium, hut fainted as soon as
taken out of bed } a sensation of hunger, followed by
copious sweats; profound sleep ; an aversion from
noise 5 every thing appeared new and extraordinary.
On the 36th a cholera } on the 48th a scaling off of the
skin, and falling off of the nails. This epidemic car¬
ried off above 3000 people at Warsaw. Frequent lo¬
tion of the body either cold or tepid, watery glysters,
and the copious introduction of watery fluids under
the form of drink, were of service. But the most fa¬
vourable crisis was under the form of some cutaneous
eruption.
4: 4. Tritceophya typhodes.
this fever was a continual
tients were almost always
turning every third day.
43
The principal symptom of
sweat with which the pa-
wet 3 with paroxysms re-
Sauvages tells us, that he
had twice an opportunity of observing this fever j one
was in the teacher of an academy, about 40 years of
age, and of a melancholic temperament. He sweated
every second night so plentifully, that he ■was obliged
to change his linen nine times; and even on the inter¬
mediate days was never perfectly free of fever, and had
his skin moistened with sweat. The other was of a
woman who went about in man’s clothes, and was dis¬
covered only after her death. The disease began with
a slight sensation of cold, after which she sweated for
eight hours. It was attended with the highest de¬
bility, anxiety, and at the same time an insatiable
hunger.
5- -Tritaophya elodes, was an inflammatory epidemic,
but not contagious, terminating about the 13th or 21st
day. The disease came on in the night time, with
•disturbed rest, universal weakness, watchings, great
Vol. Xill. Part 1. ^ t
C 1 N E.
heat and sweat, redness of the face and almost of the
whole body, sparkling eyes, the tongue dry and white j
a hard, tense, and turgid pulse : about the third day
a kind of frenzy frequently came on with the feverish
paroxysm, the forerunner of an universal miliary erup¬
tion , or, what was worse, with purple spots so close
together, that they looked like an erysipelas of the
whole body. Sometimes blisters of the size of small
pearls, filled with acrid serum, appeared on the neck,
armpits, and trunk of the body, which were of all the
symptoms the most dangerous. There was a variety
ot the disease, which Sauvages calls the humoralis, and
in which the pulse was soft and feeble, with greater
weakness over the whole body, and the disposition to
sleep more frequent than in the other ; the eyes lan¬
guid } the tongue very white, but not dry j and worms
were sometimes discharged.
6. Tritceophya assodes. This species arose from a
foulness of the primse vine, and the effluvia of waters
in which hemp had been steeped. It began with ri¬
gor, followed by great heats, restlessness, tossing of the
limbs, faintings, immoderate thirst, dryness of tongue,
delirium, and at length excessive watchings *, these
last, however, were less dangerous than vertigo or a
comatose disposition, which brought on convulsions or
apoplexies.
7. Tritceophya carotica. This had exacerbations
every other evening; and its distinguishing symptom
was an excessive inclination to sleep, preceded by a
severe headach, and followed by delirium, and some¬
times convulsions •, the tongue was black, and the pa¬
tient insensible of thirst after the delirium came on.
In those cases where the disease proved fatal, a sub-
sultus tendinum and other alarming symptoms, came
on.
8. Tritcrophya leipyria is only a variety of the tritic-
ophya causus, already described.
9. Tritccophya deceptiva. This species at first assumes
the appearance of a continued fever j but afterwards de¬
generates into a remittent, or even an intermittent. It
is described by Sydenham, but attended with no re¬
markable symptoms.
10. The last of Sauvages’s species of Tritceophya
belonging to the remitting tertian is the Americana.
This, according to Sauvages, is the ardent fever with
which the Europeans are usually seized on their first
arrival in America, and generally carries oft one half ot
them. Of this there are twro varieties, the very acute
and the acute. The very acute ends before the seventh
day. It comes on a few days after the person’s arrival,
with loss of appetite, with dyspnoea and sighing from
weakness, headach, lassitude, and pain of the loins: a
pyrexia succeeds, with great thirst, sweat, and heat j
the sickness increases, nausea comes on, with vomiting
of porraceous bile , the tongue rough, the extremities
often cold j watching, furious delirium j and the pa¬
tient frequently dies on the third day. Copious sweats,
and a plentiful haemorrhagy from the nose on the fifth
day, but not sooner, are serviceable; but a bilious diar¬
rhoea is the best crisis of all.
The acute kind terminates most frequently on the
ninth, but very rarely goes beyond the fifteenth day.
Death frequently comes on between the fourth am}
seventh days. It begins with licadach, pain ^ m the_
loins, and sometimes shivering 5 great Lassitude, dys-
I i pncea,
144
MS
146
147
14S
250
TTebres.
149
*50
ISI
*52
M E D I
pnoea, thirst j burning fever, increasing every third day'j
inflation of the abdomen, pain at the pit of the stomach,
nausea, and bilious vomiting. Such is the state of the
disease within twenty-four hours. The eyes are red,
and full of tears ; the urine pellucid ; there is a low de¬
lirium, and continual anxiety ; the tongue is dry and
red, and sometimes, though rarely, black, which is a
still worse sign j the pulse, formerly strong and full,
sinks about the fourth day, and becomes tense and spas¬
modic : if a carus then comes on, the patient dies the
filth or sixth day j but if the pulse keeps up, and no
carus comes on, a crisis is to be expected by sweat, by
a copious hemorrhagy from the nose, or, which is still
more safe, by a bilious diarrhoea, which is never salu¬
tary if it comes on before the fifth day.
To the remitting tertian also belong the following
species mentioned by Sauvages, viz.
1. Terhana subcontinua. This begins like a genuine
tertian, and at first hath distinct paroxysms ; but these
grow gradually more and more obscure, the disease
acquiring daily more of the appearance of continued
fever, by which it is to be distinguished from the
other varieties of this species. It is not unfrequently
joined with those symptoms which attend the fatal fe¬
ver already mentioned } as cardialgia, cholera, syncope,
&c. but in a much less degree. The disease commonly
begins with little or no sense of cold, but rather a sen¬
sation of heat y when the tertian is doubled, it has first
a slighter and then a more severe fit; and thus goes
on with an exacerbation on the even days : and though
it should change from a double into a single tertian,
we are still to suspect it, if a weak fit is the forerunner
of a very strong one. This change of the tertian into
a continued fever is also to be prognosticated if a heat
remarkable to the touch is perceived on the day of in¬
termission, together with some disturbance of the pulse,
thirst, and dryness of the tongue j all of which show
a tendency to inflammation: the same is foretold by
the urine being in small quantity, and very red, or of
a saffron colour ; also an ulcerous or aphthous inflam¬
mation of the throat, with difficulty of swallowing, or
any very severe symptom coming on in the beginning
of the disease, excepting only a delirium, which is easily
removed.
2. Quotidiana deceptiva. This is a disorder of an in¬
flammatory kind, with a strong tendency to putrescency,
and sometimes assumes the form of a quotidian. In it
the patient frequently complains of cold when he really
is hot, and the remission is very indistinct. The disease
is known by the great languor of the patient and the
foulness of his tongue.
3. Amphimerina cardiaca is an acute malignant fever,
with daily exacerbations, attended with fainting and
vomiting of green bile. Afterwards, the weakness in¬
creasing, the patient’s extremities grow cold, and a pro¬
fuse sweat comes on, which is frequently succeeded by
death on the fourth day. Another species resembling
this Sauvages calls the syncopalis ; but the cardiaca dif¬
fers from it in being attended with cardialgia.
4. Amphimerina paludosa. This is the fever desci'ibed
by the British physicians under many different names,
and appearing under various forms, according to the
different constitutions of the patients. This fever
in the Last Indies, according to Dr Lind of Windsor,
generally comes on suddenly, and begins with a sense
CINE. Practi,
of debility and a very great lowness of spirits. These Tcrti
symptoms are attended with a greater or less degree of
chilliness, vertigo, nausea, very acute pains in the head
and loins, and a trembling of the hands } the counte¬
nance is pale, the skin commonly very dry and corrugat¬
ed, the eyes dull and heavy, the pulse quick and small,
the breath generally difficult, and interrupted with hic¬
cough.
As the paroxysm increases, the chilliness now and
then gives way to irregular heats, which soon become
violent and permanent j the nausea likewise increases )
and in some there comes on a vomiting, in which they
throw up a great deal of bile. Sometimes bile is like¬
wise voided by stool. The skin grows red j the eyes
appear small, and sometimes not a little inflamed. The
pulse becomes fuller, and the breath more difficult, at¬
tended with great restlessness and a troublesome thirst
notwithstanding which (so great is the nausea) the pa¬
tient cannot endure any kind of liquids. The tongue
becomes foul, and the pain of the head and loins more
violent; a delirium then follows j a slight moisture ap¬
pears on the face, and from thence spreads to the other
parts j whilst the violence of the other symptoms abates,
and shows the beginning of a remission, which is com¬
pleted by plentiful sweats.
On the fever’s remitting, the pulse returns almost to.
its natural state j the pains of the head and loins still
continue, though somewhat less violent, as likewise
the nausea and want of appetite. W hen the disease
gains strength, the remission is scarcely obvious, and
is immediately followed by another paroxysm } which
begins, not indeed with so great a shivering, but is at¬
tended with a greater pain of the head, the greatest
anxiety, a heartburn, nausea, vomiting, and bilious
stools. The matter most commonly evacuated by vo¬
mit and stool is whitish like chalk and water, or curd¬
led milk which is vomited by sucking children, when
the curd is much broke down. A heat, immodeiate
thirst, and delirium now come on. The tongue be¬
comes more foul } the teeth and inside of the lips are
covered with a black crust} the breath grows hot and
fetid : another remission ensues, attended with a sweat;
but this remission is both shorter and less obvious than
the first.
This second remission is succeeded by a paroxysm, in
which the symptoms are far more violent than in the
former j that which the patient discharges by vomiting
and purging is more fetid j the mouth, teeth, and in¬
side of the lips, are not only covered -with a black crust,
but the tongue becomes so dry and stiff, that the pa¬
tient’s voice can scarce he heard. Violent delirium,
with restlessness and anxiety, come on chiefly during
the paroxysm; nor do these symptoms abate till the
fever remits, and the patient sweats.
When the fever becomes so violent, during the third
fit, as to end in death, which is often the case, some of
the sick have a coma 5 in others the delirium becomes
more violent. The discharges now become more fetid,
and have a cadaverous smell j the stools are involuntary;
the pulse is so quick, small, and irregular, that it is
scarce to be counted, or even felt; a cold sweat is dif¬
fused over the whole body, especially the head and
neck : the face becomes Hippocratic and convulsed ;
the patient picks the bed-clothes ; a subsultus tendmum
comes on ; the sick lie constantly on their backs, and
insensibly
ictice. M E D I
brcs* insensibly slide down to the foot of the bed ; their ex-
y—' tremities grow cold j they are then seized with convul¬
sions, with which the scene closes.
In this fever, the urine, which at the beginning is
pale, becomes of a deeper colour by degrees, but
without depositing any sediment. There seldom or
never appear any petechiae, and the prickly heat which
wras before on the skin vanishes on the first appearance
of the fever. But though these were the general
symptoms of this disorder, they varied in the different
subjects, and at different seasons of the same year. The
pulse, for example, in some, was quick in the beginning
of the disorder; in others, it varied with the other
symptoms. The skin was generally dry in the be¬
ginning of the fit; but in some it was moist, and cover¬
ed with sweat from the very beginning of the disease.
In the month of September, when the disorder raged
most, the remissions were very imperfect and obscure j
but, on the return of winter and the healthy season,
they became more regular, and the disease assumed the
appearance of an intermitting fever, to such a degree
as at length not to be distinguished from it. In some
the remissions could scarce be perceived, and the fever
continued for two weeks without any material change
for the better or the worse. At this time numbers
were seized with it. When the disorder continued for
any time without a change, it generally ended in death *,
while the weather grew' better, it sometimes, in the
space of a few days, from a common fever became an
intermitting one, and the patient recovered, unless his
liver, which was sometimes the case, happened to be
affected. The cure of an inflammation of the liver
proved uncertain and tedious 5 as it was commonly fol¬
lowed by a colliquative diarrhoea, which generally en¬
dangered the patient’s life.—Every succeeding paroxysm
was observed to be more dangerous than the preceding;
the third generally proved fatal j some died during
the first. When this happened, the fever, in the lan¬
guage of the country, was called a puca, that is a strong
fever.
This disease, according to Dr Lind of Haslar hos¬
pital, is the autumnal fever of all hot countries, the
epidemic disease between the tropics, and the disease
most fatal to Europeans in all hot and unhealthy cli¬
mates. All authors agree that intermittents in gene¬
ral, but particularly this dangerous kind of them, are
produced by heat and moisture, but particularly the
evaporation of moisture from marshes. Dr Lind of
Windsor remarks, that the European seamen are very
subject to the fever above mentioned when they happen
to arrive at Bengal in autumn. They are predisposed
to it from the nature of their food, their confinement on
board, the very great heats to which they are exposed
during the voyage, and their lying for hours together
‘ exposed to the night colds.
Most of the meat used by the crews of those ships
is salted, and often in a putrid state, without any fresh
vegetables, they having only biscuits, and some other
farinaceous matters. The quantity of the vinous or
spirituous liquors allowed them is, in his opinion, by far
too small to subdue the putrescent disposition of their
animal-food. Their fluids consequently become, from
day to day, more and more putrescent, and of course
more apt to breed and contract this disorder. This
-disposition is likewise induced by their being stowed
CINE.
very close together, and that for a considerable length
of time, and in a foul air, especially when the weather
happens to be too stormy to permit the hatches and port¬
holes to be kept open.
Though the heats they endure in the voyage to In¬
dia are less considerable than those of the country it¬
self, yet they are too much for an European constitution
to bear. The general heat at sea within the tropics is
about 84° of Fahrenheit’s thermometer, which is suf¬
ficient to relax them, and promote a corruption of their
humours, especially when it coincides with the above
causes. It likewise creates a languor and indolence,
which alone are sufficient to increase that putrescence.
These causes are apt to be considerably aggravated by
the men’s being often exposed, when on duty, for hours
together, to rain, damp, and cold air j a circumstance
which frequently happens to them when working their
ships up the river Ganges in the night-time. Hence
the perspiration is checked, and the excrementitious
fluid which used to be discharged by the skin being re¬
tained in the body, contributes, he thinks, very much
towards the predisposition to this disease.
But the most powerful of all the remote causes is
justly thought to be the effluvia of marshes replete with
putrid animal-substances. We have not, however,
been able to determine from what kind of putrid ani¬
mal-substances these effluvia derive their virus. For
that every kind of putrefaction has not such an effect
appeai-s from this, that neither practical anatomists, nor
those who by their trades are exposed to the putrid ef¬
fluvia of animals, for instance such tanners and butchers
as keep their shops and stalls very dirty, are more
subject than others to putrid diseases. Nor are the
ship-stewards and their servants, whose business it is
to deliver out the provisions to the ships crews, and
who spend the most of their time amongst the putrid
and rancid effluvia of the places in which those pro¬
visions are kept, more subject to putrid fevers than
their ship-mates. But whatever be in this, we are well
assured that some particular putrid fermentations pro¬
duce noxious vapours, which, united with those of
marshes, render them more pernicious. Hence evi¬
dently proceeds the extreme unhealthfulness of a place
called Culpi, on the eastern bank of the Ganges. The
shores about it are full of mud, and the banks co¬
vered with trees. Opposite to the place where the ships
lie there is a cx*eek, and about a mile from its entrance
stands the town of Culpi: the ships lie about a mile
from the shore. None of the sailors on board the
ships stationed at this place enjoyed their health. The
burying ground also contributed not a little to spread
the infection. The ground being marshy, the putrid
water flowed from the old graves into the new ones,
which infected the grave-diggers and those that at¬
tended the funerals ; and from this cause many were
suddenly seized while they were performing the last
duty to their companions. This place has ever been
remarkable for the unhealthfulness of its air. It was
once customary to send some of the Company’s ser¬
vants here to receive the cargoes of the ships, and send
them to Calcutta 5 but so many of them died on this
duty, that the Company was at length obliged to dis¬
pense with it.
Hence it plainly appears, how apt putrid animai
and vegetable substances are to render the effluvia of
I i 2 fenny
Oi
252
Febrcs. fenny places more pernicious than they would othcr-
u—v-—' wise be. The reason why great inundations of the
Nile and Ganges are followed by a healthy season is,
that by this means the putrid animal and vegetable
substances dispersed over the contiguous countries are
carried off into the sea.—The noxious vapours arising
from fens spread but a little way. Ur Lind has often
known ships crews at a very little distance from the
shore quite free from this disorder. But although these
marsh miasmata first bring on the disease, yet contagion
particularly spreads it, and renders it more epidemic.
Thus the Drake East Indiaman continued free from
the disorder for two weeks together, when she had no
communication with the other ships; but as soon as
the disorder was brought on board, many were seized
with it within a few days in such a manner as to leave
no room to entertain the least doubt concerning its con¬
tagious nature.
Dr Lind of Haslar hospital has given a very curious
and learned account of the appearance df this fever
throughout the various parts of the globe. It was ve¬
ry common in England in the years 1765
one obvious cause of which was the prevalence of the
eastern wind. This wind in England is often said to
bring with it a fog from the sea j but the truth ol the
matter is, that in many places of this island the east-
wind frequently raises a copious vapour from water,
mud, and all marshy or damp places. To this exhal¬
ing quality of the eastern wind Dr Lind has often
been an eye-witness. When the wind changes to the
east, the mud sometimes sends up a vapour as thick as
smoke $ and the doctor has observed two fish-ponds in
his neighbourhood, one of fresh and the other of salt¬
water, which on the approach of an easterly wind
sometimes also emit a dense vapour, as from a pot of
boiling water. In order to view this phenomenon di¬
stinctly, the person should stand at about 100 yards
distance from the mud or ponds. If the sun shines
when the wind changes to the east, he will observe a
constant steam of vapours arising out of the ponds,
from about five to ten yards in height, while the air
about him remains serene. As the vapour or fog ari¬
sing from other bodies glides along the surface of the
earth, and is brought by the easterly wind to the
ponds, he will still be able, for sonae time, to distinguish
the vapours ascending perpendicularly out of the ponds
from those which are carried in an horizontal direction
by the wind ; especially if the sun continues to shine,
though faintly.
This evaporating quality of the east-wind seems to
manifest itself also by its effects both on the thermo¬
meter and the human body ; for a thermometer hung
over a damp piece of ground during the fogs or exha¬
lations arising from it, will often indicate a degree of
cold below the freezing point. The chilliness of the
body, so sensibly perceived when in this situation, seems
to proceed from the same cause, and to produce nearly
the same sensations, which the damp arising from the
wet floor of a chamber communicates to those who hap¬
pen to be in it.
Winds are not constant in their effects. As we have
sometimes warm weather with a north-wind, and some¬
times very little heat with one blowing from the south j
so the fogs attending an east-wind are not constant,
neither is the evaporation above-mentiooed at all times
Praeti - if
to be perceived. It is possible, however, that in all this Tend ]
there may be a deception •, and that instead of suppo--y ;
sing the quantity of vapours exhaled to be increased by
an easterly wind, the coldness of that wind may only
condense and render visible the vapours in the air at
that time. But even this supposition is liable to great
objections, as our coldest north-winds seldom or never
produce such an eftect, but on the contrary are attend¬
ed with dry and serene weather.
Be this as it will, however, an east-wind is usually
accompanied with a cold, damp, and unwholesome va¬
pour, which is observed to affect the health both of
animals and vegetables, and in many places to produce
obstinate intermitting fevers, and also to occasion fre¬
quent relapses. In particular spots of the low damp
island of Bortsea, the ague frequently prevails during
the autumnal season, and in some years is much more
frequent and violent than in others. It is also obser¬
vable, that this disease always attacks strangers, or those
who have formerly lived on a drier soil, and in a more
elevated situation, with greater severity than those who
are natives of the island.
The year 1765 was remarkable, not only for the
long continuance of the easterly winds, but for an ex¬
cessive degree of heat, which produced a more violent
and general appearance of those diseases than had been
known for many years before. In the month of Au¬
gust the quicksilver in Fahrenheit’s thermometer often
rose to 82° in the middle of the day. This considerable
addition of heat, together with the want of refreshing
rains, greatly spread the fever, increased its violence,
and even changed its form in many places. At Ports¬
mouth, and throughout almost the whole island of
Portsea, an alarming continual or remitting fever ra¬
ged, which extended itself as far as Chichester. At the
same time, the town of Gosport, though distant only
one mile from Portsmouth, enjoyed an almost total ex¬
emption from sickness of every kind j whereas in the
neighbouring villages and farm-houses, a mild regular
tertian ague affected whole families. The violence of
the fever, w’ith its appearances in a continued, remit¬
ting, or intermitting form, marked in some measure
the nature of the soil. In Portsmouth the symptoms
were bad, worse at Kingston, and still more dangerous
and violent at a place called Half-way Houses ; a street
so named, about half a mile from Portsmouth, where
scarcely end in a family escaped this fever, which ge¬
nerally made its first attack with a delirium. In the
large suburb of Portsmouth called the Common, it seem¬
ed to rage with more violence than in the town, some
parts excepted $ but even whole streets of this suburb,
together with the housesjn the dock-yard, escaped its
attack.
The marines, who w?cre three times a week exercised
early in the morning on South-sea beach, sufi’ered much
from the effect of the stagnant water in an adjoining
morass. Half a dozen of them wrcre frequently taken
ill in their ranks when under arms j some being seiz¬
ed with such a giddiness of their head, that they could
scarcely stand ; while others fell down speechless, and
upon recovering their senses complained of a violent
headach. When such patients were received into the
hospital, it was observed that some few had a regular
ague, but that far the greater number laboured under
a remitting fever, in which sometimes indeed there
' ! was
MEDICINE.
MEDICINE.
ctice.
res. was no perceptible remission for several days. A con-
——■ stant pain and giddiness of the head were the most in¬
separable and distressing symptoms of this disease. Some
were delirious, and a few vomited up a quantity of
bile , bilt in all the countenance was yellow. A long
continuance of the fever produced a dropsy or jaundice,
<ir both. Even a slight attack reduced the most robust
constitution to a state of extreme debility j and this weak¬
ness, together with the giddiness, continued for a long
time after the fever. A scabby eruption now and then
made its appearance on the lips and the corners of the
mouth : but dry itchy spots over the whole body, re¬
sembling much the common itch, and seeming to par¬
take of the nature of that disease, were more frequently
observed in the patients at Portsmouth, where there was
not the least reason to suspect any infection.
Such is the appearance of the remitting fever occa¬
sioned by marsh miasmata in England. In the Nether¬
lands its symptoms are not much different. Dr Lind
informs us, that at Middleburg, the capital of West
Zealand, a sickness generally reigns towards the latter
end of August, or the beginning of September, which
is always most violent after hot summers. It com¬
mences after the rains which fall in the end of July;
the sooner it begins the longer it continues, and it is
only checked by the coldness of the weather. Towards
the end of August and beginning of September it is a
continual burning fever, attended with a vomiting of
bile, which is called the gall-sickness. This fever, after
continuing three or four days, intermits, and assumes
the form of a double tertian ; leaving the patient in a
fortnight, or perhaps sooner. Strangers that have
been accustomed to breathe a dry pure air do not re¬
cover so quickly. Foreigners in indigent circumstances,
such as the Scots and German soldiers, who are garri¬
soned in the adjacent places, are apt after those fevers
to have a swelling in their legs and a dropsy ; of which
many die.
These diseases, the doctor observes, arc the same with
the double tertians common within the tropics. Such
as are seized with the gall-sickness have at first some
flushes of heat over the body, a loss of appetite, a w hite
foul tongue, a yellow tinct in the eyes, and a pale
colour of the lips. Such as live well, drink wfine, and
have warm clothes and good lodgings, do not suffer so
much during the sickly season as the poor people ; how¬
ever, these diseases are not infectious, and seldom prove
mortal to the natives.
Sir John Pringle observes, that the prevailing epi¬
demic of autumn in all marshy countries, is a fever of
an intermitting nature, commonly of a tertian form,
but of a bad kind, j which, in the dampest places and
worst seasons, appears as a double tertian, a remitting,
or even an ardent fever. But hoSvever these fevers may
vary in their appearance according to the constitution
ol the patient and other circumstances, they are ail ot
a similar nature. For though, in the beginning of the
epidemic, when the heat or rather the putrefaction in
the air is the greatest, they assume a continued or a re¬
mitting form, yet by the end of autumn they usually
terminate in regular intermittents.
In Zealand where the air is more corrupted thaw in
other parts ol the Netherlands, this distemper is called
the gcill-stckness ; and indeed both the redundance and
depravation ol the bile is sometimes so great, that it has
been generally ascribed to the corruption and overflow*
ing of that humour. But though it cannot with justice
be said to originate from corrupted bile, it is certain that
the disease may be continued, and the symptoms ag¬
gravated, by an increased secretion and putrefaction of
the bile occasioned by the fever. In proportion to the
coolness ol the season, to the height and dryness of the
ground, this distemper is milder, remits or intermits
more freely, and removes further from the nature of a
continued fever. The higher ranks of people in ge¬
neral are least liable to the diseases ol the marshes; for
such countries require dry houses, apartments raised
above the ground, moderate exercise, without labour
in the sun or evening damps, a just quantity of fer¬
mented liquors, plenty of vegetables, and fresh meats.
Without such helps, not only strangers, but the natives
themselves, are sickly, especially after hot and close
summers. The hardiest constitutions are very little es-
cepted more than others j and hence the British in the
Netherlands have always been liable to fevers.
By this distemper the British troops wrere harassed
throughout the whole of the war from 1743 to 1747.
It appeared in the month of August 17435 the pa¬
roxysms came on in the evening, with great heat, thirst,
a violent headach, and often a delirium. These symp¬
toms lasted most of the night, but abated in the morn¬
ing, with an imperfect sweat, sometimes with a ha;-
morrhagy from the nose or a looseness. The stomach
from the beginning was disordered with a nausea and
sense ol oppression, frequently with a bilious and of¬
fensive vomiting. It evacuations were either neglect¬
ed, or too sparingly used, the patient fell into a conti¬
nued fever, and sometimes grew yellow as in a jaundice.
When the season was further advanced, this fever was
attended with a cough, rheumatic pains, and sizy blood.
The officers being better accommodated than the com¬
mon men, and the cavalry who had cloaks to keep them
warm, were not so subject to it j and others who be¬
longed to the army, but lay in quarters, were least of
all affected 5. and the less in proportion to their being
little exposed to heats, night-damps, and the other fa¬
tigues of the service.
In this manner did the remitting fever infest the
army for the remaining years of the war j and that ex¬
actly in proportion to their distance from the marshy
places, of which we have several notable instances in
Pringle’s observations. In Hungary the same disease
appears with still more violence, and is readily compli¬
cated with fevers of a truly pestilential nature, by
which means it becomes extremely dangerous. Hun¬
gary is acknowledged to be the most sickly climate in
Europe, and indeed as bad as any in the world. Here
it was where the crusaders in only marching through
the country to invade Asia, often lost half their num¬
ber by sickness 5 and where the Austrians not long
since buried, in a few years, above 40,000 of their best
troops, who fell a sacrifice to the malignant disposition
of the Hungarian air. The reason of this uncommon
malignity is, that Hungary abounds with rivers, which,
by often overflowing,, leave that low flat country over¬
spread with lakes and ponds of stagnating water, and
with large unwholesome marshes, bo great is the im¬
purity of these stagnated waters, that by them the ri¬
vers, even the Danube, whose course is slow, become
in some places corrupted and offensive. The air is
moist,
253
Tertiana.
254
M E D I
Febres. moist, ami in summer quire sultry. In the nights of
harvest, Kramer tells us, it was so very damp, that the
Austrian soldiers could not secure themselves from the
moisture even by a triple tent-covering. Here epide¬
mical distempers begin constantly to rage during the
hottest months of the year j which are July, August,
and September: and these complaints, according to
the observations of the physician above mentioned, are
the same with those which are epidemic upon the coast
of Guinea, and in the sickly climates of the East and
West Indies, of which malignant fevers of the remit¬
ting and intermitting kind are the most common and
dangerous.
The heat of the sun in Hungary is more intense than
in any other country of Eurpe; and in proportion to
the heat is the pestilential quality bf the marshy exhala¬
tions. It is constantly observed, that the nearer any
city or fort is to a morass or a large river with foul and
oozy banks, the more unhealthy are the inhabitants.
At such seasons and places, the air swarms with num¬
berless insects and animalcules, a sure sign of its malig¬
nant disposition ; and the hotter the summer, the more
frequent and mortal are the diseases. In short, this
country, on account of its unhealthiness, has been
termed the grave of the Germans ; and in Italy, the
Campania of Rome is almost equally unhealthy. Ean-
cisius, physician to Pope Clement XI. furnishes us with
a very striking instance of the malignant quality of the
air of Campania. Thirty gentlemen and ladies of the
first rank in Rome having made an excursion, upon a
party of pleasure, towards the mouth of the Tyber, the
wind suddenly shifting, blew from the south over the
putrid marshes, when 29 were immediately seized with
a tertian fever, only one escaping.
The island of Sardinia is annually visited with an
epidemical sickness, which rages from June to Sep¬
tember, and is called by the natives the intemperies.
In some years there is a want of rain for four or five
months ; and then it is that this sickness exerts its
utmost violence, being always more fatal in some
places than in others, and in particular to strangers.
Of this the British had a severe proof in 1758.—Ad¬
miral Broderick, in the Prince ship of war, anchored
in the bay of Oristagni, where 27 of his men, sent
ashore on duty, wei'e seized with the epidemical distem¬
per of this island ; twelve of them in particular, who
had slept on shore, were brought on board delirious.
All of them in general laboured under a low fever,
attended with great oppression at the breast and at
the pit of the stomach, a constant retching, and some¬
times a vomiting of bile $ upon which a delirium often
ensued. These fevers changed into double tertians,
and terminated in obstinate quartan agues. It is wor¬
thy of remark, that in this ship, which lay only two
miles from the land, none were taken ill but such as
had been on shore, of whom seven died. The prior
of a convent, making a visit to-the English officers,
informed them, that the intemperies of the island were
a remitting or intermitting fever, and that he himself
had suffered several attacks of it. Sardinia was for¬
merly so remarkable for its unwholesome air, that the
Romans used to banish their criminals thither ; and it
is at present but thinly peopled, owing to the morta¬
lity occasioned by this annual sickness. For although
it is about 140 miles long, and in several places 75
CINE. Tract;,
miles broad, yet it is computed that the whole number Tertil
of its inhabitants does not exceed 250,000 : an inconsi- <*■*—v **
derahle number, when compared with the inhabitants
of the lesser, but comparatively more healthful, island
of Corsica though even there the French lost a num¬
ber of their troops by intermitting and remitting fe¬
vers. In the island of Minorca, too, Dr Cleghorn in¬
forms us, that fevers of this kind prevail exceedingly;
that their types are various, their symptoms violent,
the intermissions fallacious, and that they frequently
and suddenly prove fatal. It is more than probable,
he adds, from the accounts of several physicians and
travellers, that epidemical tertians are not wholly con¬
fined to the coasts and islands of the Mediterranean,
but that they are equally frequent and'-destructive in
many other parts of the globe ; and perhaps may be
deemed the anniversary autumnal distempers of most
hot countries in the world. And though in the mild
climate of Britain, a tertian may easily be cured when
it is discovered •, yet in warm climates, such is the ra¬
pid progress of the distemper, that it is necessary to
know it in the very beginning, ’ which is very difficult
for those who have never seen any but the tertians usual¬
ly met with in Britain.
From Dr Cleghorn’s account of Minorca, however,
it doth not appear why that island should be so much
infested with fevers of this kind, since it is far from
being a marshy country; nay, on the contrary, is very
dry. The south wind, he observes, is very unhealthy;
and it is the prevalence of this wind which brings on
the fever : but still the difficulty is not removed, be¬
cause the sea air is so far from bringing on such dan¬
gerous diseases, that it is one of the greatest preserva¬
tives against them. As to the moisture which must ne¬
cessarily accompany an insular situation, that cannot
reasonably be admitted as a cause of this or any other
disease. In the London Medical Observations we find
a paper on a subject very similar to the present, name¬
ly, the mischiefs produced by lying in damp sheets, or
being exposed to moist vapour. The author tells us, that
he hardly knows a distemper the origin of which has
not by some been ascribed to lying in a damp bed, or
sitting in a wet room j and yet he does not know any
one which will certainly be produced by these causes,
and people frequently expose themselves to such causes
' without suffering any ill effects. “ It must be owned
indeed, (says he), that the vapours arising from the
bilge-water of ships tend to produce a scurvy. The
swampy plains also near the mouths of great rivers
which are often overflowed, and low grounds which
cannot readily be drained, and those tracts of land
where the thickness and extent of the woods keep the
ground moist and half putrid for want of ventilation,
are destructive to the neighbouring inhabitants, by oc¬
casioning obstinate intermittents in the colder climates,
and pestilential fevers in the hotter regions. But all
this mischief arises not merely from moisture, but from
an unventilated and putrid moisture j for the inollen-
siveness of mere wetness, untainted with putridity, may
be reasonably inferred from the following considera¬
tions. The air is often fully saturated with moisture;
and yet neither is any epidemical distemper produced
by it, nor are those remarkably aggravated with which
the sick happen at that time to be afflicted. The air
from rivers and from the sea is probably more replenish¬
ed
tice. MED!
cs. ed with vapours than inland countries cleared of their
woods: yet the most celebrated of the ancient physi¬
cians recommended the bank of a running river for the
situation of a house, on account of its peculiar healthful-
ness j and many invalids are sent by the modern physi¬
cians to the sea side, only for the benefit of the sea air.
“ Where the sailors are cleanly, and not too much
crowded, they are often as healthy during long voyages
at sea, as they would have been on any part of the
land. Venice is not observed to be less healthy than
London or Paris.
“ Those who are much disposed to sweat, He many
hours in bedclothes impregnated probably with a less
wholesome moisture than -would have been left in the
sheets half-dried after washing 5 and there is no reason
to think that any remarkable injury was done to the
health by the continuance of such sweats almost every
night for weeks, and for months, except what arose from
the too great copiousness of this evacuation.
“ Children, and such as are troubled with the stone,
and those who, from other infirmities or age, constantly
wet their beds with their urine, do not appear to suffer
in their health on this account.
“ It is a common practice, in some disorders, to go
to bed with the legs or arms wrapped in linen cloths
thoroughly soaked in Malvern water, so that the sheets
will be in many places as wet as they can be j and I
have known these patients and their bedfellows receive
no harm from a continuance of this practice for many
months. Nor can it be said that the Malvern water is
more innocent than any other water might be, on ac¬
count of any ingredients with which it is impregnated j
for the Malvern water is purer than that of any other
spring in England which I ever examined.
“ The greatest valetudinarians do not scruple to
sprinkle lavender-water upon their sheets; and yet,
when the spirit is flown off, there is left what is as
truly water as if it had been taken from the river.
“ Is it observed, that laundresses are peculiarly un¬
healthy above other women, though they live half
their time in the midst of wet linen, in an air fully sa¬
turated with vapours? Many other employments might
be mentioned, the persons occupied in which are
constantly exposed to wet floors or pavements, or to
be surrounded with watery vapours, or to have their
clothes often wet for many hours together.
“ Is it the coldness of wet linen which is to be feared ?
But shirts and sheets, colder than any unfrozen water
can be, are safely worn and lain in by many persons,
who, during a hard frost, neither warm their shirts
nor their sheets.—Or does the danger lie in the damp¬
ness ? But then, how comes it to pass, that a warm or
cold bath, and long-continued fomentations, can be
used, without the destruction of those who use them ?
Or is it from both together ?" Yet we have long heard
of the thickness and continuance of the cold fogs in
the seas north-west of England, but have never yet
been told of any certain ill effect which they have upon
those that live in these countries.”
With regard to the causes of fevers, however, Dr
bund is of opinion, that noxious vapours arising from
the earth are for the most part to be blamed. Even
w countries seemingly dry, and where violent rains are
frequent, he thinks the air may load itself
with putrid exhalations from the ground j and that,
3
CINE.
except in the burning deserts of Arabia or Africa, Ter
people are nowhere exempt from diseases occasioned
by putrid moisture. In most of the hot countries the
pernicious effects of the putrid vapours are by no means
equivocal. In Guinea, they seem to he more extraor¬
dinary than anywhere else in the world j neither indeed
can it be supposed, that a hot and moist atmosphere can
be without putrescency. It may in general be remark¬
ed, that in sultry climates, or during hot weather, in
all places subject to great rains, where the country is
not cleared and cultivated, but is overrun with thick¬
ets, shrubs, or woods, especially if there are marshes or
stagnating waters in the neighbourhood, sickness may
be dreaded, and particularly the remitting fever of
which we now treat. The fens, even in different coun¬
ties of England, are known to be very prejudicial to
the health of those who live near them, and still more
so to strangers j but the woody and marshy lands in
hot countries are much more pernicious to the health
of Europeans. In all those unhealthy places, parti¬
cularly during fogs or rains, a raw vapour, disagreeable
to the smell, arises from the earth, aud especially in the
huts or houses. But of all the vapours which infest the
torrid zone, the most malignant and fatal are har-
mattaiis : They are said to arise from the conflux of se¬
veral rivers in the king of JDormeo's dominions at Be¬
nin (the most unwholesome part of Guinea), where tra¬
vellers are obliged to be carried on men’s backs for se¬
veral days journey, through swampy grounds, and over
marshes, amidst stinking ooze, and thickets of man¬
grove trees which are annually overflown. These va¬
pours come up the coast to a surprising distance, with.
the south-east and north-east winds : and it has been
observed, that in their progress they have often chan¬
ged both the course of the winds and of the sea-cur¬
rents. The times of their appearance at Cape Coast
are the months of December, January, or February.
The north-east and south-east winds are always un¬
healthy, but particularly so during the harmattan sea¬
son. In some years this vapour is scarce perceptible j
but in others it is thick, noxious, and destructive to
the blacks as well as whites.—The mortality is in pro¬
portion to the density and duration of the fog. It has
a raw putrid smell 5 and is sometimes so thick, that a
person or house cannot be discerned through it at the
distance of 15 or 20 yards : and it continues so for 10
or 14 days j during which it opens the seams of ships,
splits or opens the crevices of wood as if shrunk or dried
with a great fire, and destroys both man and beast.—
In the year 1754 or 1755, the mortality occasioned in
Guinea by this stinking fog was so great, that in seve¬
ral negro towns the living were scarce sufficient to bury
the dead.—Twenty women brought from Holland by a
new governor to the Castle del Alina, perished, toge¬
ther with most of the men in the garrison. The gates
of Cape Coast castle were shut up for want of centinels
to do duty j the blacks dying at this time as well as
the white people. It is lucky that it is only in some
years that harmattaiis are so very thick and noxious,
otherwise that part of the country would be depopu¬
lated. It is observed that all fogs are extremely un¬
healthy in those parts, particularly before and after the
rainy seasons j but the above account of. the harmat-
tans appeared so very extraordinary and incredible to
some of Dr Lind’s readers, that he thought proper to
publish -
2$6 ■ M E D I
Fcbres. pul>lisli a fmtlier con*obotation of the facts above men-
j tioned. “ A gentleman (says he) who had long re¬
sided at Cape Coast castle, informed me, that during
the time of this fog, being in the upper chambers of
the fort, the boards of the floor shrunk so much, that
he could discern the candles burning in the apartments
below him (there are no plaster ceilings used in those
hot countries), and that he could then even distinguish
what people were doing in the apartments below $ the
scams of the floor having opened above half an inch
while the fog lasted, which afterwards, upon its being
dispelled, became close and tight as before.”
In Africa the rains and dews seem to be possessed of
qualities almost equally pernicious with the fogs. This
much is certain, that in Guinea, many of the principal
negroes, and especially of the mulatto Portuguese, take
the utmost precaution to avoid being wet with those
rains, especially such as fall first. At the setting in of
the rainy season, they generally shut themselves up in
a close well-thatched hut, where they keep a con¬
stant fire, smoke tobacco, and drink brandy, as preser¬
vatives against the noxious quality of the air at that
time. When wet by accident with the rain, they im¬
mediately plunge themselves into salt water, if near it.
Those natives generally bathe once a-day, but never in
the fresh water rivers when they are overflown with the
rains: at such times they prefer for that purpose the
water of springs. The first rains which fall in Guinea
are commonly supposed to be the most unhealthy. They
have been known, in 48 hours, to render the leather
of the shoes quite mouldy and rotten, they stain clothes
more than any other rain •, and soon after their com¬
mencement, even places formerly dry and parched
swarm with frogs. At this time skins, part of the traf¬
fic of Senegal, quickly generate large worms $ and it is
remarked, that the fowls, which greedily prey on other
insects, refuse to feed on these. It has been farther ob¬
served, that woollen cloths wet in those rains, and af¬
terwards hung up to dry in the sun, have sometimes be¬
come full of maggots in a few hours.—It is also proba¬
ble, that as in some of those countries the earth, for
six or eight months of the year, receives no moisture
from the heavens but what falls in dews, which every
night renew the vegetation, the surface of the ground
in many places becomes hard and incrustated with a
dry scurf, which pens up the vapours below 5 until, by
the continuance of the rains for some time, this crust is
softened, and the long pent up vapours set free. That
these dews do not penetrate deep into the earth is evi¬
dent from the constant dryness and hardness of such
spots of ground in those countries as are not covered
with grass and other vegetables. Thus the large rivers
in the dry season being confined within narrow bounds,
leave a great part of their channel uncovered, which
having its moistux-e totally exhaled, becomes a solid
hard crust •, but no sooner the rains fall than by de¬
grees this long parched up crust of earth and clay gra¬
dually softens, and the ground, which before had not
the least smell, begins to emit a stench, which in four
or five weeks becomes exceedingly noisome, at which
time the sickness is generally most violent.
This sickness, however, is not different from the
remitting fever which has been descinbed under so
iuany various forms and names. An inflammatory
level' is seldom observed, during the season of sickness,
CINE. Pract
in this part of the world; artd we shall conclude our Terti
description of the a?nphimerina paludosa with some ex- V“-y L
tracts from the surgeon’s journal in a ship that sailed
up the rivers of Guinea.
“ On the 5th of April we sailed up the river of
Gambia, and found all the English in the fort in
perfect health. The surgeons of the factory informed
me, that a relaxation of the stomach, and consequent¬
ly a weakened digestion, seemed to bring on most of
the diseases so fatal to Europeans in the sickly season.
They were generally of a bilious nature, attended
with a low fever, sometimes of a malignant, at other
times of a remitting kind.—On the 12th of April,
after sailing 30 miles up the river St Domingo, we
came to Catchou, a town belonging to the Portuguese
in Lat. 20° N. In this town were only four white
people, the governor, and thi'ee friars. The number
of whites in the trading ships was 51. One morning
towards the latter end of April, a little rain fell. On
the 13 th of May there was a second shower, accompa¬
nied with a tornado. On the 18th of May it rained
the whole day j and the rain continued, but with short
intervals, until the beginning of October.
“ In the month of June almost two-thirds of the
white people were taken ill. Their sickness could not
be well characterised by any denomination commonly
applied to fevers : it however approached nearest to
what is called a nervous fever, as the pulse was ahvays
low, and the brain and nerves seemed principally af¬
fected. It had also a tendency to frequent remissions.
It began sometimes with a vomiting, but oftener with
a delirium. Its attack was commonly in the night}
and the patients, being then delirious, were apt to run
into the open air. I observed them frequently recover
their senses for a short time, by means of the heavy
rain which fell upon their naked bodies. But the de¬
lirium soon returned: they aftenvards became coma¬
tose, their pulse suxxk, and a train of nervous symptoms
followed j their skin often became yellow} bilious vo¬
mitings and stools were frequent symptoms. The fever
reduced the patient’s strength so much, that it was ge¬
nerally six weeks or twro months before he was able to
walk abroad. A consuming flux, a jaundice, a dropsy
or obstructions in the bowels, were the consequences
of it. Of 51 'svhite men, being the companies of lour
ships which were at Catchou, one-third died of the
fever, and one-third more of the flux, and other diseases
consequent upon it j and of these not one was taken ill
till the rains began.
“ I believe, on the whole face of the earth, there
is hardly to be found a more unhealthy country than
this during the rainy season : and the idea I then con¬
ceived of our white people was by making a comparison
of their breathing such a noxious air, with a number of
river-fish put into stagnating water j where, as the water
corrupts, the fish grow less lively, they droop, pine
away, and many die.
“ Thus some persons became dull, inactive, slight¬
ly delirious, at intervals j and, without being so much
as Confined to their beds, they expired in that delii’ious
and comatose state in less than 48 hours alter being
in apparent good health. The white people in general
became yellow} their stomach could not receive much
food without loathing and retchings. Indeed it is no
wonder that this sickness proved so fatal, that recove¬
ries
piptice. M E D I
res. ries from it were so tedious, and that they were at-
u- —^ tended with fluxes, dropsies, the jaundice, ague-cakes,
and other dangerous chronical distempers. It seems
more wonderful to me that any white people ever reco¬
ver, while they continue to breathe so pestiferous an air
as that at Catchou during the rainy season. We Were,
as I have already observed, 30 miles from the sea,
in a country altogether uncultivated, overflowed with
water, surrounded with thick impenetrable woods, and
overrun with slime. The air was vitiated, noisome,
and thick; insomuch that the lighted torches or candles
burnt dim, and seemed ready to be extinguished : even
the human voice lost its natural tone. The smell of the
ground and of the houses was raw and offensive 5 but the
vapour arising from putrid water in the ditches was
much worse. All this, however, seemed tolerable, when
compared with the infinite numbers of insects swarming
every where, both on the ground and in the air j
which, as they seemed to be produced and cherished by
the putrefaction of the atmosphere, so they contributed
greatly to increase its impurity. The wild bees from
the woods, together with millions of ants, overran
and destroyed the furniture of the houses ; at the same
time, swarms of cockroaches often darkened the air,
and extinguished even candles in their flight 5 but the
greatest plague was the musquettoes and sand-flies,
whose incessant buzz and painful stings were more
insupportable than any symptom of the fever. Be¬
sides all these, an incredible number of frogs on the
banks of the river made such a constant and dis¬
agreeable croaking, that nothing but being accustom¬
ed to such an hideous noise could permit the enjoy¬
ment of natural sleep. In the beginning of October,
as the rains abated, the weather became very hot $
the woods were covered with abundance of dead frogs,
and other vermin, left by the recess of the river 5 all
the mangroves and shrubs were likewise overspread with
stinking slime.”
After so particular a description of the remitting fe¬
ver in many different parts of the world, we presume it
will be needless to take notice of any little varieties which
may occur in the warm parts of America, as both the
nature and cure of the distemper are radically the same :
neither shall we lengthen out this article with further
descriptions of remitting fevers from the works of fo¬
reign authors, as, from what We have already said, their
nature cannot easily be mistaken.
Cure. The great difficulty in the cure of remitting
fevers arises from their not being simple diseases, but
a complication of several. Fevers, pi’operly speaking,
have but three or four different appearances which
they can assume without a complication. One is, when
they are attended with a phlogistic diathesis •, another
is, when they assume the form of genuine intermit-
tents 5 a third is, when they produce a great debility of
the nervous system ; and the fourth is, When along
With this debility there is also a rapid tendency to pu¬
trefaction. If, therefore, all these species happen to
make an attack at once, the mefet dangerous fever we
can imagine will be produced ; and however contrary
it may be to our theories to admit the possibility of
such an attack, the truth of the fact is too often con-
hrmed by fatal experience. In the beginning of re¬
mittent fevers, for instance, the symptoms indicate a
high degree of inflammation : but if the practitioner
Vol. XIII. Fart I. t
C I N E.
25;
attempts to remove this inflammation by blood-letting Tertians
01 other evacuations, the pulse sinks irrecoverably, and ^ v— 
the person dies with such symptoms as show that the
nervous system has been from the beginning greatly
affected j at the same time the high stimulants and
cordials, or cinchona, which would have conquered the
neivous part of the disease, increase the inflammatory
part of it to such a degree, that, by a too early exhibi¬
tion of them, the patient also dies, hut after another
manner.
In the remitting fever of the East Indies, Dr Lind
of Windsor formed the following indications of cure.
1. To allay the violence of the fever. 2. To evacuate
the putrid humours, and take great care to prevent the
body from inclining to putrefaction. 3. To keep up
the strength of the patient as much as possible during
the disorder. 4. To lose no time in preventing the re¬
turn of the paroxysms.
To allay the violence of the fever, every thing that,
can contribute to increase it ought to be carefully
avoided or removed; such as great heat, too strong a
light falling on the eyes, noise, and motion. If du¬
ring the paroxysm the head and loins he affected with
violent pains, the pulse be full and hard, and the heat
intense, bleeding may be used, hut with the greatest
caution : for, however useful this operation may be in
cold climates, the success of it in warm ones is so far
from being certain, that the lives of the patients have
been often very much endangered, nay even destroyed
by it. Dr Badenoch, and the surgeon of the Ponsborne,
endeavoured each of them to relieve two patients by
blood-letting; and the consequence was, that each of
them lost one patient. Dr Lind bled two patients;
one of whom was Mr Richardson, the first mate of
the ship, who complained of a most violent pain in his
head, with a full hard pulse. About four or five ounces
of blood were taken from him, by which he was
greatly relieved: nor was the cure retarded by it ;
nay, the fever afterwards became less irregular. At
the time the other patient was bled, the disease was
exceedingly frequent and violent. He was so earnest
for bleeding, that he fired all the rest with the same
desire, swearing, that by refusing them this only re^-
medy, every one of them would be sent to their graves.
To quiet them, therefore, and get quit of their impor¬
tunities, the doctor complied with their request, and
took about five or six ounces from him who had been
the first to require it. The consequence was, that he
immediately lost his strength j and in less than an hour,
during which time he made his will, was carried off by
the next fit. It is necessary, however, to observe, and
indeed the doctor himself makes the observation, with
regard to this patient, that he was bled at an improper
time, namely, between the fits ; whereas, had he been
bled in the hot fit, it is possible he might have been re¬
lieved.
In support of the advantages to be derived from
bleeding under proper circumstances, we have the
authority both ol Cleghorn and Pringle. As Dr
Cleghorn practised in a very hot country, his ob¬
servations must in the present case have greater weight
than those of Pringle, who practised in a colder
one. The former acquaints us, that if he was called
in early enough, unless there was a strong contra-indi¬
cation, he always used to take away some blood from
. K k people
-O M E D I
T'ebres. people of all ages j namely, from robust adults, ten
—v / or tweive ounces j from others a smaller quantity, m
proportion to their strength and years. And further,
if a violent headach, obstinate delirium, and heat or
pains of the bowels, were urgent, the bleeding was re¬
peated within a day or two. By this seasonable evacua¬
tion, he found the vehemence of all the paroxysms
somewhat diminished ; the apyrexia became more com-
olete j the operation of emetics and cathartics render¬
ed safer and more successful; and the terrible symp¬
toms which happened about the height ot the distem¬
per, such as raving sopor, difficulty of breathing, in-
llammations of the abdominal viscera, &c. were either
prevented or mitigated. But if the fever had conti¬
nued for some time before he was called, and the mass
of blood appeared to be too much melted down or in¬
clined to a putrid dissolution, he either abstained from
bleeding entirely, or took away a very small quantity,
though some urgent symptoms might seem to require
a larger evacuation. As to the time of. perform-
in<T the operation, he acquaints us, that it is safe
enough, except when the cold fit lasts or is soon ex¬
pected, or while the skin is covered with critical
sweats ; and that he usually opened a vein in the be¬
ginning of the hot fit} by which means the sick w ere
relieved, the immoderate heat of the body, which is
often productive of fatal effects, was diminished, and
the critical sweats brought on sooner and in greater
abundance.
But though Dr Lind found venesection to be of such
pernicious tendency in his patients, cooling acidulated
liquors were of the utmost service, as they corrected
the putrid humours, lessened the heat and thirst, and
of course prevented the fever from arriving at so great
an height as it would otherwise have done. Those
cooling liquors are the best which are made up with
some farinaceous substance, as they most easily unite
with other fluids. Fossil acids too, and crystals of tar¬
tar, especially the latter, are of considerable use, not
only in this, but in other fevers. The neutral salts,
prepared with the juice of lemons, were likewise given
with success during the heat of the fever. They lessen
the nausea, the fits become more regular, and the re¬
missions more full ; and they are particularly grateful
when given in a state of efiervescence. The good ef¬
fects of these draughts we are in a great measure to
ascribe to the antiseptic quality of the fixed air extrica¬
ted from them during the effervescence.
During the remission, it is proper to evacuate the
putrid humours, by small doses of ipecacuanha, or ra¬
ther tartar emetic. The tartar emetic indeed appears
to be endowed with some kind of febrifuge virtue,
which Dr Cullen thinks is owing to its relaxing the
febrile spasm taking place in the capillary vessels.
But should there appear any symptoms of a topi¬
cal inflammation in some of the abdominal viscera,
a thing which never happens unless the disorder has
been of some standing, vomiting is to be avoided, and
we are to depend upon purgatives alone for the evacua¬
tion of the putrid bile. These are always useful in
the cure of this disorder. But all acrid and strong
purgatives are to be carefully avoided, and only the
mild antiseptic ones made use of, such as crystals of tar¬
tar, or tamarinds made up with manna or with Glau¬
ber’s salt.
CINE. Practic
Though in these diseases there is a great quantity of Tertian|
putrescent bile collected in the body, yet it seems
much more probable that this is the effect than the
cause of the disorder *, and therefore, though we carry
off the quantity collected ever so often, more of the same
kind will still he produced by the putrescent disposition
of the other fluids, at the same time that the strength
of the patient must necessarily be diminished by repeat¬
ed evacuations, when it ought rather to be kept up by
all possible means. We ought well to observe, however,
that the mineral acids have not that property of sweet¬
ening putrid bile which the vegetable ones have : and
therefore the same relief will not be given by them
which might reasonably be expected from vinegar or
lemon juice.
In order to keep up the strength of the patient,
good food is absolutely necessary. Dr Lind allowed
the sick small messes of panada made with boiled rice
and barley mixed with currants or raisins and prunes,
seasoned with sugar and .a little wine, especially claret.
During the paroxysms, they had gruel made of flour
and rice, with sugar and the juice of acid fruit} and
when the fit went off, a little wine was added to this
mixture.
The shirts and bedding must he very often changed
and well aired j their stools, and all filth and nastiness,
are to be immediately removed j the places where
they are lodged should be well aired and frequently
sprinkled with vinegar \ and, in the last place, the sick
must be exceedingly well nursed. Blisters, according
to Dr Lind, should never be used till the fever has been
of long continuance, or the spirits and pulse of the pa¬
tient have begun to flag. But here our author has im¬
plicitly followed Dr Huxliam, whose theory concern¬
ing the use of blisters is now found to be erroneous.
According to that celebrated author, blisters are ca¬
pable of doing considerable hurt in all cases where
there is a tendency to inflammation, by increasing the
motion of the fluids and the oscillatory power of the
vessels, both of which are already too great. They
are also improper, according to him, when there is a
considerable tendency of the fluids to putrefaction •,
because he supposes the salts of these flies to operate
in the same manner with volatile alkalies, that is, by
dissolving and putrefying the blood still farther. But
Sir John Pringle has shown, that, in inflammatory
fevers as well as those of the putrid kind, both blisters
and volatile salts may be of service; the latter, parti¬
cularly, he hath experimentally proved to be so far from
promoting putrefaction, that they are exceedingly strong
antiseptics.
In the East Indies, Dr Lind found it absolutely
necessary to exhibit the Peruvian hark in large quanti¬
ties, and as early as possible. By this method he not
only secured the patient from the imminent danger of
death to which he was exposed at every fit, but likewise
conquered those obstructions which were apt to ensue
in the abdominal viscera, and which are to be attri¬
buted to the continuance of the disorder, and not to
the bark employed to cure it. He always gave the cin¬
chona during the second remission, as all his care was
during the first to cleanse the primse vise. He observes,
however, that it is to no purpose to give the bark till
the necessary purgations are over j but assures us, that
it never fails, unless from the coming on of a vomiting
or
p ctice.
:)res. or diarrhsea it cannot be taken in sufficient quantities
y-m-j before the return of a paroxysm. To prevent the me¬
dicine from vomiting or purging, he mixed a few drops
of liquid laudanum with every dose of it. Half a
di’am was given every half hour in some convenient
Vehicle, beginning as soon as the fever had consider¬
ably abated, and the pulse was returned nearly to its
natural state j both which generally happened before
the sweats wrere over. An ounce of the bark was
sometimes found too little to check the fever, but an
ounce and a half never failed. It must be continued
daily in small doses till the patient has recovered his
strength, and then a greater quantity must be given,
especially at the season when the rivers overflow the
country.
Dr Pringle found the autumnal remittents in the Ne¬
therlands complicated with a great many inflammatory
symptoms j for which reason it was generally found
necessary to open a rein in the beginning. The ver¬
nal and later autumnal remitting fevers are accom¬
panied With pleuritic and rheumatic pains from the
coldness of the Weather, and on that account require
more bleeding. A physician unacquainted with the
nature of the disease, and attending chiefly to the pa¬
roxysms and remissions, would be apt to omit this eva¬
cuation entirely, and give the cinchona too soon, which
Would bring on a continued inflammatory fever. In
these countries a vein may be safely opened either du¬
ring the remission or in the height of a paroxysm ; and
our author also found good effects resulting from bleed¬
ing in the hot fits of the marsh fever, even after it had
almost come to regular intermissions. After bleeding,
a purgative was usually exhibited, of which he gives us
the following formula.
$>. Infusi sense commun. §iij.
Elect. Lenitiv. ^ss.
Nitr. pur. 3i*
Tinct. sen. 3vi. M.
Of this only one half wras taken at once ; and if it
did not operate twice in four hours, the remainder
was then taken. This potion agreed with the sto¬
mach, purged plentifully, and therefore was a very
useful composition. Next morning, when there was
almost always some remission, he gave one grain of
emetic tartar rubbed with 12 grains of crabs-eyes, and
repeated the dose in two hours, if the first had little
or no effect j or at any rate in four hours. This me¬
dicine was intended not only to vomit, but also to
operate by stool, and excite a sweat. If these evacua¬
tions were procured, the fever generally became easier,
and w'as even sometimes cured. This he prefers to the
ipecacuanha, and therefore in the latter years of his
practice disused that root entirely. The same medi¬
cine was repeated next daymr the day following 5 or if
not, a laxative clyster wras thrown up: and this method
was contir.ied till the fever either went off altogether,
or intermitted in such a manner as to be cured by the
cinchona.
A similar method was followed by Dr Huck in the
remitting fevers of the W est Indies and North Ame¬
rica. In the beginning he let blood *, and in the first
remission gave four or five grains of ipecacuanha, with
from half a grain to two grains of emetic tartar, i his
powder he repeated in two hours, taking care that the
259
patient should not drink before the second dose ; for Tatiana.
then the medicine more readily passed into the bow els v~*—v *
after it had operated by vomiting. If, after two hours
more, the operation either way was small, he gave a third
dosej which commonly had a good effect in opening
the first passages ; and then the fever either wrent quite
off, or intermitted in such a manner as to yield to the
bark. On the continent, he found little difficulty after
the intermission $ but in the WAest Indies, unless be gave
the cinchona upon the very first intermission, though
imperfect, the fever w'as apt to assume a continued and
dangerous form.
In the remitting fevers of hot countries, however,-
it must be observed, that the lancet must in all cases be
much more sparingly used than in similar diseases of
the colder regions j and w-e must also be sparing of venc-'
section in those countries where the marsh effluvia are
very strong and prevail much. For this reason Dr
Lind of Haslar greatly condemns the practice of in¬
discriminate bleeding when people first arrive in hot
climates. The first diseases indeed which occur in a
voyage to the southward ace, for the most part, of an
inflammatory nature, and owing to a sudden transition
from cold to hot weather. This occasions a fulness
and distention of the vessels ; whence all Europeans,
on their first arrival under the tropic, bear evacuations
much better than afterwards. The practice of indis¬
criminately bleeding, however, a number of the ship’s
company when they first come into a warm latitude, is
by no means found to answer the purpose of a preven¬
tive. In such cases, indeed, as plainly indicate a ple¬
thoric disposition brought on by the heat, blood-let¬
ting is certainly useful. The signs of this are a pain
and giddiness in the head •, a heaviness and dulness of
the eyes, which sometimes appear slightly inflamed :
there is also commonly a sense of weight and fulness in
the breast, the pulse at the same time being quick and
oppressed.
But the case is quite-different after a longer conti¬
nuance of sultry weather, and when the constitution is
in some measure habituated to the hot climate. lor
it is then observed, that the symptoms of inflamma¬
tions in the bowels, even the most dangerous, are not
near so severe in such climates as in cold countries j
nor can the patients bear such large evacuations. The
physician, however, must take care not to be misled
by the apparent mildness of the symptoms 5 for he will
find, notwithstanding such deceitful appearances, that
the inflammation makes a more rapid progress in hot
countries than in cold, suppurations and mortifications
being much more suddenly formed } and that in general
all acute distempers come sooner to a crisis in the warm
tlian in Colder regions. Hence it is an important rule
of practice in those climates, to seize the most eaiiy op¬
portunity, in the commencement ol all threatening in¬
flammations, to make frequent though not copious eva¬
cuations by blood-letting. l.or by delay the inflam¬
mation quickly passes from its first to its last or fatal
stage ; at least, an imperfect crisis in such inflammatory
fevers ensues, which fixes an obstruction in the viscera
extremely difficult to remove. . .
It is indeed a general maxim with some physicians
in the West Indies, that in most acute distempers bleed¬
ing in that country is prejudicial. This is founded
upon a supposition that the crassamentum ol the blood
* K k 2 1!i
MEDICINE.
260 M E D I
labrcs. is tliinnccl, and the solids greatly weakened, by the
w—-y—«_/ jieat 0£ climate. It is therefore objected, that
bleeding in such an habit of body weakens the powers
of nature, and withdraws the strength which is re¬
quisite to support the patient until the crisis of the
fever.
This reasoning is partly just ; but, like ail general
maxims, will admit of exceptions. First, with regard
to sailors, it is to be remembered, that they are more
exposed to quick vicissitudes of heat, cold, damps, and
to various changes of the air and weather, than most of
the other inhabitants of the Torrid Zone. Add to
this, that their intemperance, and the excesses they
are apt to fall into whenever it is in their power to
commit them, render them more liable to inflamma¬
tions than any other set of people. Hence their dis¬
eases require more plentiful evacuations than the land-
inhabitants of those parts of the world, and generally
they bear them better. But with regard to the natives
of the country, or those who have remained long there,,
it must be proper to bleed them very sparingly, making
•allowance for the different seasons of the year, the
temperature of the air, and the situation of the places
where they reside. Thus, in some parts, even on the
island of Jamaica, at particular seasons, the weather
is cool } wherefore, in these places, and at such sea¬
sons, the inhabitants having their fibres more rigid,
and a firmer crasis of their blood, bear venesection
much better.
In cold countries the state of the air greatly assists
in restoring the impaired spring of the fibres 5 where¬
as every thing almost in warm weather, such as heat,
moisture, &c. concur to relax and weaken the habit
ol body. Thus we may daily see persons in Britain,
after having suffered a most severe fit of sickness, re¬
cover their strength and spirits in a few days, and in
a very short time their natural constitution. But the
case is very different in the sultry regions of the Torrid
Zone, or indeed in any part of the world where the
heat of the season causes the mercury to stand for any
length of time at the 77^ degree and upward of
Fahrenheit’s thermometer. During such an excess of
beat, debility after fevers is apt to remain with Eu¬
ropean constitutions for several months. In Jamaica,
the convalescents are sent to the cool summits of the
mountains ; but a retreat to a more northern climate
is often absolutely necessary to recover their wonted
tone and vigour of body. It is a well-established
observation, that the negroes and aborigines of the
Torrid Zone cannot bear plentiful evacuations by the
lancet. They commonly mix the most stimulating
poignant spices with their ordinary light food, and
this is found by experience suitable to their constitu¬
tions.
As proper preventives for the dangerous fevers of
which we are treating, Dr Lind on all occasions re¬
commends the avoiding of stagnant water, or putrid
marshes ; the use of proper food, cleanliness, and so¬
briety. Of the propriety of removing from the neigh¬
bourhood of those places whose pestilential effluvia pro¬
duce the disorders, we cannot possibly entertain a
doubt •, and of the efficacy of proper food in prevent¬
ing putrid disorders he gives a remarkable instance in
the Sheerness man of war, bound to the East Indies.
As they went out, the men being apprehensive of
CINE. practi( f
sickness in so long a voyage, petitioned the captain Tcrtiar
not to oblige them to take up their salt provisions,v—-y- ^
but rather to permit them to live upon the other spe¬
cies of their allowance. It was therefore ordered, that
they should be served with salt-meat only once a-week j
and the consequence was, that after a passage of five
months and one day, the ship arrived at the Cape of
Good Hope without having a single person sick on
board. As the use of Sutton’s pipes had been then
newly introduced into the king’s ships, the captain
was willing to ascribe part of such an uncommon
healthfulness to their beneficial effects ; but it was soon
discovered, that, by the neglect of the carpenter, the
cock of the pipes had all this while been kept shut.
This ship remained in India some months, where none
of the men, except the boats crew, had the benefit of
going on shore 5 notwithstanding which, the crew con¬
tinued to enjoy the most perfect state of health 5 they
were, however, well supplied with fresh meat. On
leaving India, knowing they were to stop at the Cape
of Good Hope, and trusting to a quick passage, and
the abundance of refreshments to be had there, they
ate their full allowance of salt meats, during a passage
of only 10 weeks j and it is to be remarked the air-
pipes were now opened. The effect of this was, that
when they arrived at the Cape, 20 of them were af¬
flicted in a most miserable manner with scorbutic and
other disorders. These, however, were speedily reco¬
vered by the refreshments they met with on shore. Be¬
ing now thoroughly sensible of the beneficial effects of
eating, in these southern climates, as little salt meat as
possible when at sea, they unanimously agreed, in their
voyage home from the Cape, to refrain from their
too plentiful allowance of salt flesh. And thus the
Sheerness arrived at Spithead, with her full comple¬
ment of 160 men in perfect health and with unbroken
constitutions, having in this voyage of 14 months and
15 days buried but one man, who died in a mercurial
salivation.
Thus we see, that a free and pure air is not a suffi¬
cient preservative against a puti’escent state of the
fluids, without proper food} and, on the other hand,
we have a very remarkable instance of the inefficacy
of the most salutary food to prevent putrid diseases,
in a very noxious state of the atmosphere. In the year
17:17, at the siege of Belgrade in Hungary, the fever
of the country, and the flux, occasioned a most extraor¬
dinary mortality among the troops. The dread of these
diseases caused every one, as may natux’ally be sup¬
posed, to have recourse to different precautions for
self-preservation. Prince Eugene, the commander in
chief, had water and the provisions for his table sent
him twice a week from \ienna. The pure stream of
the river Kahlenberg was regularly brought to him:
he avoided all excesses, and lived regularly or rather
abstemiously j refreshed himself often by eating a cool
melon 5 and mixed his usual wine, which .was Bur¬
gundy, with water. Yet, notwithstanding his utmost
care, lie was seized with a dysentery} which would
have quickly put an end to his life, had not the speedy
conclusion of that campaign permitted him to make a
quick retreat.
At this unhealthy season, when hardly one imperial
officer, much less their several domestics, escaped those
malignant diseases, the renowned Count Bonneval and
bis
p dice. _ M E D I
i)rs Ills numerous retinue continued in perfect health, to the
^ surprise, or to use the words of Dr Kramer, to the envy^
of all who beheld them. The only precaution he used,
was to take, two or three times a-day, a small quan¬
tity of brandy in which the Peruvian bark was infused $
and he obliged all his attendants and domestics to fol¬
low his example. It is no less remarkable that the
count, placing his certain preservation in the use of
this single medicine, lived for many years afterwards
in the most unhealthy spots of Hungary, without any
attack or appi-ehension of disease ; and continued to en¬
joy a perfect state of health during the hottest and most
sickly seasons. And thus, with an unbroken and
sound constitution, which is seldom the case of those
who reside long in such climates, he lived to a great
age. There is an instance produced by the same au¬
thor, of a whole regiment in Italy having been pre¬
served by the use of cinchona from the attack of these
malignant diseases, viz. the flux, and bilious fever as it
is frequently called, when the rest of the Austrian ar¬
my, not pursuing that method, became greatly annoyed
with them.
The intemperance and irregular living of those Eu¬
ropeans who visit the hot climates is frequently accused
as the cause of their destruction ; but, our author
thinks, without sufficient reason ; for though intem¬
perance will make the body more liable to receive such
diseases, it will not bring them on. It must by no
means, however, be imagined, that in those climates
Europeans may with impunity be guilty of excesses in
eating or drinking: for the least error in that way will
often prove fatal by debilitating the body, whose ut¬
most strength in time of full health was perhaps scarce
sufficient to resist the pestilential miasmata of the at¬
mosphere.
It appears, therefore, from the concurrent testimony
of the most eminent physicians, that the most proper
medicine to be used, either as a preventive or cure for
remitting and intermitting disorders, is the Peruvian
bark, administered with proper precautions and after the
primcB vice have been evacuated of the putrid bilious
matter collected in them. In those species of tritceophya,
&c. belonging to this class, enumerated by Sauvages,
the same remedies only were useful 5 but in that pesti¬
lential distemper which he calls tritceophya Vratislavi-
ensisy he tells us, that washing the body with wrater
sometimes hot, sometimes cold, watery clysters, and
plenty of aqueous drink, were likewise of use.
Genus II. QUA TITAN A j the Quartan Fever.
CINE.
261
and mind. There is seldom any vomiting unless when Quartana.
the stomach is manifestly overloaded with aliment j nei- 1 'v
ther is there any diarrhoea, but the belly in general is
rather bound, not only on the days on which the pa¬
roxysm takes place, but also on the intermediate ones.
Hie heat, which slowly succeeds the cold, is less
troublesome to the patient by its violence than by the
uneasy dryness ot the skin, which is scarcely ever moi¬
stened with sweat. This heat rarely continues longer
than four or live hours, unless perhaps at the first or se¬
cond paroxysm. It is accompanied also with a giddi¬
ness and dull pam of the head. On the termination of
the paroxysm, the patient returns to a middling state of
health, and continues in the same for the rest ef the in¬
termediate days } only there remains somewhat of a
loathing, and a deep-seated pain as if the person was all
over bruised or broken, which kind of sensation the phy¬
sicians are wont to call osteocopus. The fit returns every
fourth day, and precisely at the same hours, being
rarely postponed.
Causes of and persons sub ject to, this disorder. The
same general causes concur in producing this as other
intermittents, namely marsh miasmata, and wdiatever can
dispose the body to be easily affected by them. Studi¬
ous people, and those of a melancholic turn, are said
to be particularly subject to quartans \ but what are
the immediate causes which produce a return of the fits
every fourth day, instead of every day, or every third
day, must probably lie for ever concealed, as depend¬
ing upon the secret and inexplicable mechanism of the
human body.
Prognosis. A simple quartan, where there is no
reason to dread any induration of the viscera, may very
certainly admit of a cure j and the prognosis can
never be unfavourable, unless in cases of extreme weak¬
ness, or where the distemper hath been unskilfully
treated.
Cure. This does not in the least differ from that
which hath been fully laid down for the simple tertian,
and which it is therefore needless to repeat here.
The Duplicated Quartan. Sp. I. var. 1. B.
Quartana duplicata, Sauv. sp. 4. Bonet. 153
This is entirely similar to the duplicated tertian al¬
ready mentioned ; proper allowance being made for the
difference between the type of a tertian and quartan.
The Triplicated Quartan. Sp. I. var. 1. C.
Quartana triplicata, Sauv. sp. 16. x54
Quartana auctorum, Sauv. Gen. 89. Lin. 17. Vog. -^.
Sag. 711. HoJJ'm. IT. p. 23. Junck. tab. 81.
The Genuine Quartan. Sp. I. var. 1. A.
Quartana legitima, Sauv. sp. 1. Sydenham de morb.
acut. cap. v.
Description. The genuine quartan, according to
Juncker, keeps its form more exactly than other inter¬
mittents ; scarcely coming on at any other time than
lour or five in the afternoon. The cold is less violent
than in the tertian ; but is very perceptible, though it
doth not proceed to such a height as to make the
limbs shake 5 it continues for about two hours. It is
preceded and accompanied by a languor both of body
This hath three paroxysms every fourth day, while
the intermediate days are entirely free from fevexv
The Double Quartan. Sp. I. var. 1. D.
Quartana duplex, Sauv. sp. 3. Vog. sp. 13. 1^5
In the double quartan, the fits come on every day
except the third ) but so that the first paroxysm answers
to the third, the second to the fourth, and so on.
The Triple Quartan. Sp. I. var. i. E,
Quartana triplex, Sauv. sp. 5. Bog. sp. 14. Bar- ^ ^
tholin. H. anat. c. 1. 95.
This comes on every day, but the quartan type is
still
562
Febres.
y57
r5S
I5S>
MEDICINE.
Practi(
still preserved by the times of accession ; that is, the
-'time of the fourth paroxysm’s coming on answers to
that of the first, the fifth-to the second, the sixth to the
third, &c.
The Quartan, accompanied with Symptoms of other
diseases. Sp. I. var. 2.
Quartana cataleptica, Sauv.sp.*]. Bond, polyalth.
vol. i. p. 805.
Quartana comatosa, Sauv. sp. 15. Werlhof. de febr.
C. Pisonis Observ. de morbis a colluvie seros. obs.
166, 167, 168, 169, 171, 172, 173, 174.
Quartana epileptica, Sauv. sp. 8. Schofaii Cons. 379,
380.
Quartana hysterica, Sauv. sp. 10. Morton, Pyret.
exerc. 1. cap. ix. H. 10, 11.
Quartana nephralgica, Sauv. sp. 9.
Quartana metastatica, Sauv. sp. 17.
Quartana amens, Sauv. sp. 12. Sydenham de morb.
acut. cap. v.
Quartana splenetica, Sauv. sp. 2. Etmuller, Coll.
Consult, cas. 25.
The Quartan complicated with other Diseases. Sp. I.
var. 3.
Quai’tana syphilitica, Sauv. sp. 6. Plateri, observ.
L. III. p. 676. Edin. Ess. art. xlvii. obs. 8.
Quartana arthritica, Sauv. sp. 11. Musgr. de Arthr.
sympt. cap. ix. H. 4. et 5.
Arthritis febrisequa, Sauv. sp. 10.
Arthritis febricosa, Sauv. sp. 10. Werlhof. de febr.
Cockburn de morbis navigantium, obs. 19.
Quartana scorbutica, Sauv. sp. 14. Bart hoi, de med.
Dan. diss. iv. Tim. L. VIII. cas. 18.
The Remitting Quartan. Sp. II.
Tetartophya, Sauv. gen. 85. Sag. 699. Lin. 21.
Quartana remittens auctorum.
Var. I. Tetartophya simplex, Sauv. sp. 1.
2. Amphimerina semiquartana, Sauv. sp. 23.
3. Tetartophya semitertiana, Sauv. sp. 5.
4. Tetartophya maligna, Sajtv. sp. 6. Lautter.
Hist. med. cas. 21. M. Donat. L. III.
cap. 14. ex ill. Gatenaria Horst. L. I.
obs. 15.
5. Tetartophya carotica, Sauv. sp. 4. Werlhof.
de febr. Bianchi Hist. hep. pars HI. const,
ann. 1718, p. 751.
6. Tetartophya splenalgica, Sauv. sp. 2.
7. Tetartophya hepatalgica, Sauv. 3. Cor. Pis.
in prefat. p. 33.
8. Amphimerina spasmodica, Sativ, sp. 16.
To the tertian or quartan fevers also belong the Ei'-
l aticce of authors. As all those above mentioned differ
only in the slight circumstance of the type from the in¬
termitting and remitting tertians already described at
length, it is unnecessary here to take uptime in descri¬
bing every minute circumstance related by physicians
concerning them, especially as it could contribute no¬
thing towards the laying down a better method of cure
than what hath been already suggested.
Genus III. QUOTIDIAN A ; the Quotidian Qnoti&
Fever.
Quotidiana auctorum, Sauv. gen. 86. Lin. 15,
Vog. I. Hoffm. II. 33. Junck. tab. 79.
The Genuine Quotidian. Sp. I. var. 1. A,
Quotidiana simplex, Sauv. sp. 1.
Quotidiana legitima, Sennert. de febr. cap. 18.
Description. This kind of fever generally comes on
about six or seven o’clock in the morning, beginning
with a considerable degree of cold and shivering, which
lasts for about an hour ; and is often accompanied with
vomiting or spontaneous diarrhoea, or both. It is suc¬
ceeded by a pretty strong heat, accompanied with thirst,
restlessness, and pain of the head. When the heat abates
a little, a spontaneous sweat commonly follows, and the
whole paroxysm rarely exceeds six hours. It returns,
however, every day almost always at the same hour, un¬
less it be evidently disturbed.
Causes of and persons subject to, the disease. The
same general causes are to be assigned for the quotidian
as for other intermittents. This kind occurs but rare¬
ly } and it is said to attack people of a phlegmatic tem¬
perament rather than any other: also old people rather
than young, and women rather than men.
The prognosis and method of cure are not different
from those of tertians and quartans.
The Partial Quotidian, Sp. I. var. 1. B.
Quotidiana partialis, Sauv. sp. 16. Cnojfcl, E. N. C,
D. I. A. III. obs. 205. Edin. Med. Ess. vol. i.
art. 31. vol. ii. art. 16.
Quotidiana cepbalalgica, Suav. sp. 6. Mort. pyretoh
exerc. i. hist. 27. Van Swieten in Boerh. p. 534.
Cephalalgia intermittens, Sauv. sp. 7.
Cephalaia febricosa, Sauv. sp. 4.
Quotidiana ophthalmica, Morton, ibid. hist. 17. Van
Swieten, ibid.
Ophthalmia febricosa, Sauv. sp. 23.
1 hsse distempers attack only some particular part of
the body, as the head, the eye, arm, &c. producing
periodical affections of those parts returning once in 24
hours} they are to be cured by cinchona, as other in-
termittents. rIhey are known to belong to this class,
by the evident intermission of the pain or other affection
of the part. The quotidiana hysterica, Sauv. sp. 3,
quotidianacatarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 9. and quotidianastran-
gunosa, Sauv. sp. 11. seem to be symptomatic dis¬
orders.
The Remitting Quotidian. Sp. II.
Amphimerina, Sauv. gen. 84. LJn. 20.
Quotidiana continua, Vog. j
Quotidianae remittentes et continuae auctorum.
Amphimerina latica, Sauv. sp. 1.
Febris continua lymphatica, Etmuller, Coll. conf.
cas. 32. River. Obs. cent. 1. obs. 57.
Amphimerina singultuosa, Sauv. sp. 14.
Febris continua Lyngodes, Vog. 26.
Concerning these also nothing remains necessary to
be mentioned in this place, having already so fully dis¬
cussed the remitting fevers in all the diffevents parts of
the
iff:
:tice.
M E D I
,eSi the world. Many other varieties of these fevers men-
; tioned by different authors are to be accounted merely
symptomatic.
Sect. II. CONTINUED FEVERS.
Continuae, Sauv. class ii. ord. I. Vog. class i. ord. 2.
Sag. 666. Bocrh. 727.
Continentes, Lin. class ii. ord. 1. Stahl. Cas. mag.
35. Cas. min. 87. Junck. 58. Sennert. de febr.
L. ii. cap. 2. et 10.
Genus IV. SYNOCHA.
Synocha, Sauv. gen. 80. Lin. 12. Junck. 58.
Synocha, sive febris acuta sanguinea, Hojf'm. II. 105.
Synochus, Vog. 16.
Continua non putris, Bocrh. 720.
Ephemera, Sauv. g. 79. Boerh. 728. Junck. 57.
Diaria, Un. II.
Febris inflammatoria auctorum.
Description. The most simple kind of synocha is
the ephemera or diary fever. It begins without any
sensation of cold or shivering, unless there be some in¬
ternal inflammation, or the smallpox or measles hap¬
pen to be present. A continual heat without any in¬
termission constitutes the essence of this disease. The
heat, however, is more tolerable than in the synocha
properly so called. In some, the pains of the head are
pungent and throbbing, answering to the pulsations
of the arteries ; but in others they are dull and heavy.
The face is red and bloated •, and there is a remarkable
lassitude of the limbs, with a strong, full, and frequent
pulse. The urine is red, and deposits a sediment almost
of the colour of orange-peeLj and in the very first day
of the disease, signs of concoction (according to the
Hippocratic phrase) appear. The fever commonly
goes off with a gentle sweat \ but sometimes, though
more rarely, with a hemorrhagy by the nose. Its
shortest period is 24 hours : but if it goes beyond the
fourth day, it is then a synocha properly so called.
The simple synocha, according to ^ ogel, begins
with cold and shivering, succeeded by vehement heat,
redness, and dryness of the skin. The face, especial¬
ly, is very red, and the thirst intense. The head is
either pained or heavy. The patient either doth not
sleep at all, or is disturbed with dreams. A moist
sweat then breaks out all over the skin. The pulse is
full, quick, and frequent •, the judgment is sometimes
a little disturbed j young people are apt to be terri¬
fied with imaginations *, and they for the most part
incline to sleep •, the respiration is difficult, and the
belly costive ; at the same time that a tensive kind of
lassitude is perceived over the whole body. A com¬
plete crisis takes place either on the fourth or at the
farthest on the eleventh day. The characteristic marks
of the simple synocha, therefore, are, A redness of
the face, moisture of the skin, a strong and frequent
pulse.
Causes of, and persons subject to, this disease. As we
lave already remarked of intermittent^, so must we also
now remark of continued fevers, that it is impossible to
discover those minute causes which occasion the differ¬
ence of type betwixt one inflammatory fever and an¬
other, though most authors pretend to enumerate these
4
CINE. 263
with great certainty. Thus Juncker tells ns, that the Synocha.
cause of the simple ephemera is plethora, together with 1 ■. 1 — v ■■ ■ •>
any immoderate agitation and commotion of the fluids
while in teat state. Vogel reckons among the causes
of his febris charia, passions of the mind, pain, want,
exposure to the sun, &c. ; a repulsion or absorption
of certain humours } wounds, fractures, luxations, &c. \
so that in general we may reckon every thing tending
to increase the action of the arterial system to be in
certain circumstances a cause of inflammatory fever. 
Hence we find those are most subject to the synocha
whose constitution is either naturally robust, or who
are exposed to those causes which tend to produce an
increased action of the arterial system ; such as hard
labour, high living, &c.
Prognosis. The most simple kind of synocha, that
is, the ephemera or diary fever, is commonly cured
without the assistance of medicine, and therefore the
prognosis is for the most part favourable : yet, if it be
improperly treated by heating medicines, it may easily
be converted into the other kind •, or, if there be a pu¬
trid disposition of the fluids, into a fever of a verv
dangerous nature. The same thing is to be Understood
even of the most violent kind ; for simple inflamma¬
tory fevers are not dangerous unless complicated w-ith
an affection of some particular part, as the pleura, sto¬
mach, &c.
Cure. Dr Cullen objects to the plan of those who
are for leaving the cure of continued fevers to the
operations of nature 5 because these operations are nei¬
ther certain in themselves, nor are they so well under¬
stood as to enable us to regulate them properly j and
it is likewise possible to supersede them by art. The
plan therefore on which he proceeds is, to form hi*
indications of cure upon the means of obviating the
tendency to death in fevers ; and these he reduces to
three. 1. To moderate the violence of reaction.—
2. To remove or obviate the causes of debility ; and,
3. To obviate or correct the tendency of the fluids to
putrefaction.
The frst indication may be answered, 1. By ail
those means which diminish the action of the heart and
arteries. 2. By those which take off the spasm of thei
extreme vessels, which, according to his theory, is the
chief cause of violent reaction.
I. The action of the heart and arteries may be dimi¬
nished, I. By avoiding or moderating those irritations
which, in one degree or other, are almost constantly,
applied to the body. 2. By the use of certain seda¬
tive powers. 3. By diminishing the tension or tone of
the arterial system.
[1.] The irritations above mentioned are tbe im¬
pressions made upon our senses, tbe exercise of the body
and mind, and the taking in of aliments. The avoid¬
ing of these as much as possible, or the moderating
their force, makes what is properly called the antiphlo¬
gistic regimen, proper to be employed in almost every
continued fever. Tins regimen is to be directed in the
following manner.
1. Impressions on the external senses, as stimulant
to the system, and a chief support of its activity,,
should be avoided as much as possible } especially such
as are of a stronger kind, and which give pain and
uneasiness. No impression is to be more carefully
guarded against than that of external heat j and at Biq
same
264 .. M E D 1
Febrcs. same time every other means ot increasing the heat of
i ——■ Sli body is to he shunned. l>oth these precautions
are to be taken as soon as a hot stage is fully formed;
and to be attended to during its continuance, except
in certain cases, where a determination to sweating is
necessary, or where the stimulant effects of heat may
he compensated by circumstances which determine it to
produce relaxation and revulsion.
2. All motion of the body is to be avoided as much
as possible, and that posture only chosen which employs
the fewest muscles, and keeps none of them long in a
state of contraction. Speaking, as it accelerates respira¬
tion, is particularly to be avoided. It must also be ob¬
served, that every motion of the body is more stimulant
in proportion as the patient is weaker.
3. The exercise of the mind is also to be avoided,
as being a stimulus to the body j but here an exception
is to be made in the case of a delirium coming on,
when the presenting of accustomed objects may di¬
vert the irregular train of ideas then arising in the
mind.
4. The presence of recent aliment in the stomach
proves always a stimulus to the system, and ought
therefore to be as moderate as possible. A total ab¬
stinence for some time may be of service ; but as this
cannot be long continued with safety, we must avoid
the stimulus of aliment by choosing that kind which
gives the least. Alimentary matters are also to be ac¬
counted more stimulant in proportion to their alkales¬
cent qualities ; and this leads us to avoid all animal,
and use only vegetable food. For the same reason,
aromatic and spirituous liquors are to be avoided;
and in answering the present indication, we must ab¬
stain from all fermented liquors except those of the
lowest quality. Other stimuli are, the sensation of
thirst, crudities or corrupted humours in the stomaclq
a preternatural retention of the fieces in the intestines,
and a general acrimony of all the humours, which is
in most fevers to be suspected. These are to be re¬
moved by such methods as the urgency of the symp¬
toms require, by diluting liquors, vomiting, the use of
acids, laxative clysters, and large quantities of antiseptic
drinks.
[2.] The second method of moderating the violence
of reaction is by the employment of certain sedative
powers, with a view to diminish the activity of the
whole body, and particularly that of the sanguiferous
system. The first of these to be mentioned is the
application of cold. Heat is the chief support of the
activity of the animal-system j and the system is there¬
fore provided with a power of generating heat: but
at the same time we may observe, that this would
go to excess, were it not constantly moderated by a
cooler temperature in the surrounding atmosphere.
When, therefore, the generating power of heat in the
system is increased, as is commonly the case in fevers,
it is necessary not only to avoid all further means of
increasing it, but also to apply air of a cooler tempe¬
rature j or at least to apply it more entirely and freely
than in a state of health. This is shown, front some
late observations, to be a very powerful means of mo¬
derating the violence of re-action : but what is the mode
ot its operation, to what circumstances of fever it par¬
ticularly applies, or what limitations it requires, are not
yet fully ascertained.
CINE. Practic
Another sedative power very frequently employed Synodi;
in fevers, is that of certain medicines known in thev'*
materia medica by the name of refrigerants. The
chief of these are acids of all kinds when sufficiently-
diluted, and which are, in several respects, remedies
adapted to continued fevers. Those especially in use
are the sulphuric and vegetable} and on many accounts
the latter are to be preferred. Another set of refrige¬
rants are the neutral salts formed of the sulphuric, ni¬
trous or vegetable acids, with alkalies either fixed or
volatile. All these neutrals, while they are dissolved
in water, generate cold 5 but as that cold ceases soon
after the dissolution is finished, and as the salts are ge¬
nerally exhibited in a dissolved state, their refrigerant
power in the animal body does not all depend upon
their power of generating cold with water. Nitre is
the refrigerant chiefly employed 5 but all the others,
compounded as above mentioned, partake more or less
of the same quality. Besides these neutrals, some me¬
tallic salts have also been employed in fevers, particu¬
larly the acetite of lead: hut the refrigerant powers of
this salt are by no means ascertained, and its deleterious
qualities are too well known to admit of its being freely
used.
[3.] The third generai 'method of diminishing
the reaction, is by lessening the tension, tone, and
activity of the sanguiferous system. As the acti¬
vity of the system in a great measure depends upon the
tone, and this again upon the tension, of the vessels,
given to them byr the quantity of fluids they contain,
it is evident, that the diminution of the quantity of
these must diminish the activity of the sanguiferous
system. The most efficacious means of diminishing
the quantity of fluids is by the evacuations of blood¬
letting and purging. The former is evidently one of
the most powerful means of diminishing the activity of
the whole body, and especially of the sanguiferous sy¬
stem ; and it must therefore be the most eflectual
means of moderating the reaction in fevers. Yv hen
the violence of reaction, and its constant attendant
a phlogistic diathesis, are sufficiently evident j when
these constitute the principal part of the disease, and
may be expected to continue through the whole of it,
as in the cases of synocha ; then blood-letting is the
principal remedy, and may be employed as far as the
symptoms of the disease may seem to require, and the
constitution of the patient will bear. It must, how¬
ever, he remarked, that a greater evacuation than is
necessary may occasion a slower recovery, and render
the person more liable to a relapse, cr bring on other
diseases. It is also to he observed, that this evacu¬
ation is the more effectual, as the blood is more sud¬
denly drawn off, and as the body is at the same time
more free from all irritation, and therefore when
it is in a posture in which the fewest muscles are in
action.
With regard to purging, when we consider the
quantity of fluids constantly present in the cavity of
the intestines, and the quantity which may be drawn
off from the innumerable excretories that open into
this cavity, it will be obvious, that a very great eva¬
cuation may be made in this way \ and if this be done
by a stimulus that is not at the same time communi¬
cated to the rest of the body, it may, by emptying
both the cavity of the intestines and the arteries which
q furnish
M E D 1 C 1 N E.
furnish the excretions poured into it, induce a consi-
derable relaxation in the whole system } and is there¬
fore suited to moderate the violence of reaction in fe¬
vers. But it is to be observed, that as the fluid drawn
from the excretories opening into the intestines is not
all drawn immediately from the arteries, and as what
is even more immediately drawn from these is drawn
oft' slowly ; so the evacuation will not, in proportion to
its quantity, occasion such a sudden depletion of the
red vessels as blood-letting does ; and therefore cannot
act so powerfully in taking off the phlogistic diathesis
of the system.
At the same time this evacuation may induce a con¬
siderable degree of debility; and therefore, in those
cases in which a dangerous state of debility is likely to
occur, purging is to be employed with a great deal of
caution; and this caution is more difficult to he ob¬
served than in the case of blood-letting: and it is fur¬
ther to be noticed, that as purging takes oft’ in some
measure the determination of the blood to the vessels
on the surface of the body, it seems to be less adapted
to the cure of fevers.
II. The other method of moderating the violence of
reaction in fevers is by the exhibition of those remedies
suited to take off the spasm of the extreme vessels, sup¬
posed to be the irritation which chiefly supports the
reaction. The means to be employed for this purpose
are either internal or external.
First, The internal means are, i. Those which de¬
termine the force of the circulation to the extreme ves¬
sels on the surface of the body, and by restoring the
tone and activity of those vessels, overcome the spasm
on their extremities. 2. Those medicines which have
the powTer of taking off spasm in any part of the sy¬
stem, and which are known under the title of Anti-
spasmodics. -
(r.) Those remedies which are fit to determine to
the surface of the body are, 1. Diluents. 2. Neutral
salts. 3. Sudorifics. 4. Emetics.
I. Water enters, in a large proportion, into the com¬
position of all animal fluids, and a large quantity of
it is always diffused through the whole of the common
mass. In a sound state, the fluidity of the whole mass
depends upon the quantity of wrater present in it. Wa¬
ter therefore is the proper diluent of our mass of blood,
and other fluids are diluent only in proportion to the
quantity of water they contain.
In a healthy state, also the fulness of the extreme
vessels and the quantity of excretion are in proportion
to the quantity of water present in the body. But in
fever, though the excretions be in some measure inter¬
rupted, they continue in such quantity as to exhale
the more fluid parts of the blood 5 and, while a por¬
tion of them is at the same time necessarily retained in
the larger vessels, the smaller, and the extreme ves¬
sels, both from the deficiency of fluid and their own
contracted state, are less filled, and therefore allowed
to remain in that condition. To remedy this con¬
tracted state, nothing is more necessary than a large
supply of water or w'atery fluids taken in by drinking
or otherwise ; for as anv superfluous quantity of wa¬
ter is forced off by the several excretories, such a force
applied may be a means of dilating the extreme vessels,
and of overcoming the spasm affecting their extremi¬
ties. Accordingly, the throwing in a large quan-
Vol. XIIE Part I. i
tity of watery fluids, has beet), at all times, a romedv
much employed in fevers j and in no instance more re¬
markably than by the Spanish and Italian physicians,
in the use of what they call the diceta aquea. This
practice consists in taking away every other kind of
aliment and drink, and in giving, in divided portions,
every day for several days together, six or eight pounds
of plain water, generally cold, but sometimes warm.
This, however, is to be done only after the dis¬
ease has continued for some time, and at least for a
week.
2. A second mean of determining to the surface of
the body, is by the use of neutral salts. These neu¬
trals, in a certain dose, taken into the stomach, produce
soon after a sense of heat upon the surface of the body ;
and, if the body be covered close and kept warm, a
swreat is readily brought out. The same medicines taken
during the cold stage of a fever, very often put an end
to it, and bring on the hot one j and they are also re¬
markable for stopping the vomiting which so frequently
attends the cold stage of fevers. All this shows, that
neutral salts have a power of determining the blood to
the surface of the body, and may therefore be of use in
taking oft’ the spasm which subsists there in fevers. The
neutral most commonly employed in fevers, is that
formed of an alkali with the native acid of vegetables.
But all the other neutrals have more or less of the
same virtue 5 and perhaps some of them, particularly
the ammoniacal salts, possess it in a stronger degree.
As cold water taken into the stomach often shows the
same diaphoretic effects with the neutral salts, it is pro¬
bable that the effect of the latter depends upon their
refrigerant powers.
3. A third method of determining to the surface of
the body, and taking off the spasm subsisting there, is
by the use of sudorifics and by sweating. The propriety
of this practice has been much disputed } and many spe¬
cious arguments may be adduced both for and against
it. In its favour may be urged, 1. That in healthy per¬
sons, in every case of .increased action of the heart and
arteries, a sweating takes place, and is, seemingly, the
means of preventing the bad effects of such increased
action. 2. That, in fevers, their most usual solution
and termination is by spontaneous sweating. 3. 1 hat,
even when excited by art, it lias been found useful at
certain periods and in certain species of fever.—On the
other hand, it may he urged against the practice ot
sweating, 1. That in fevers, as a spontaneous sweating
does not immediately come on, there are some circum¬
stances different from those in a state of health, and
which may render it doubtful whether the-sweating can
be safely excited by art. 2. That in many cases the
practice has been attended with bad consequences. The
means commonly employed have a tendency to produce
an inflammatory diathesis ; which, if not taken oil by
the sweat succeeding, must be increased with much dan¬
ger. Thus sweating employed to prevent the accessions
of intermitting- fevers has often changed them mto a
continued form, which is always dangerous. 3. ILe
utility of the practice is doubtful 5 as sweating, when
it happens, does not always give a final termination,
as must be manifest in the case of intermittents, and
in many continued fevers which are sometimes in the
beginning attended with sweatings which do not prove
final ; and. on the contrary, whether they be sponta-
L 1 neous
266
Febreg.
M E D I
neous or excited by art, they seem often to aggravate
the disease.
From these considerations, it is doubtful if the prac¬
tice of sweating can be admitted very generally j but,
at the same time, it is also very doubtful if the failure
of the practice, or the mischiefs said to arise from it,
hath not been owing to the improper conduct of the
practitioner. With respect to the last, it is almost
agreed among physicians, I. That sweating has been
generally hurtful when excited by stimulant, heating,
and inflammatory medicines. 2. That it has beep
hurtful when excited by much external heat, and con¬
tinued with a great increase of the heat of the body.
That it is always hurtful when it does not relieve j
and rather increases the frequency and hardness of the
pulse, the anxiety and difficulty of breathing, the
headach, and delirium. 4* 1 hat it is always hurtful
if it be urged when the sweat is not fluid, and when
it is partial and on the superior parts of the body
only.
In these cases, it is probable, that either an inflam¬
matory diathesis is produced, which increases the spasm
on the extreme vessels } or that, from other causes, the
spasm is too much fixed to yield easily to the increased
action of the heart and arteries : and upon either sup¬
position it must be obvious, that urging the sweat may
produce determinations to some of the internal parts,
with very great danger.
Notwithstanding these doubts, however, it still re¬
mains true, 1. That sweating has been often useful in
preventing the accessions of fevers when they have
been certainly foreseen, aud a proper conduct employ¬
ed. 2. That even after fevers have in some measure
come on, sweating has interrupted their progress when
properly employed, either at the very beginning of the
disease, or during its approach and gradual formation.
3. That even after pyrexiae have continued for some
time, sweating has been successfully employed in curing
them, as is particularly exemplified in the ease of a
rheumatism. 4. That certain fevers produced by a
very powerful sedative contagion, have been generally
treated most successfully by sweating.
These instances are in favour of sweating, but give
no general rule •, and it must be left to farther experi¬
ence to determine how far any general rule can be esta¬
blished in this matter. In the mean time, if the prac¬
tice of sweating is to be attempted, the following rules
may be laid down for the conduct of it:. 1. That a
sweat should he excited without the use of stimulant
inflammatory medicines. 2. That it should be exci¬
ted with as little external heat, and with as little in¬
crease of the heat of the body, as possible. 3. That,
when excited, it should be continued for a due length
ef time *, not less than 12 hours, and sometimes for 24
or 48 hours •, always, however, supposing that it pro¬
ceeds without the dangerous circumstances already
mentioned. 4. That for some part of the time, and
as long as the person can easily bear, it should be
carried on without admitting of sleep. 5. That it
should be rendered universal over the whole body } and
therefore particularly that care should be taken to
bring the sweating to the lower extremities. 6. That
the practice should be rendered safer by moderate pur¬
ging excited at the same time, 7. That it should not
CINE. Praeti,
be suddenly checked by cold anyhow applied to the s,not
body.
When attention is to he given to these rules, the
sweating may be excited, 1. By warm bathing, or a
fomentation of the lower extremities. 2. By frequent
draughts of tepid liquors, chiefly water, rendered more
grateful by the addition of a light aromatic, or more
powerful by that of a small quantity of wine. 3. By
giving some doses of neutral salts. 4. Most effectually,
and perhaps most safely, by a. large dose of an opiate,
joined with a portion of neutral salts, and of an eme-
tic.
The fourth mean of determining to the surface of
the body, and thereby taking off the spasm affecting
the extreme vessels, is by the use of emetics. These,
particularly of the antimonial kind, have been em¬
ployed in the cure of fevers ever since the introduction
of chemical medicines •, but though of late their use
lias become veiy general, their efficacy is still dispu¬
ted, and their manner of operating is differently ex¬
plained. _ '
Vomiting is in many respects useful in fevers: as it
evacuates the contents of the stomach, as it emulges the
biliary and pancreatic ducts, and evacuates the contents
of the duodenum, and perhaps also of a large portion of
the intestines; as it agitates the whole of the abdomi¬
nal viscera, it expedes the circulation in them, and
promotes their several secretions \ and, lastly, as it
agitates also the viscera of the thorax, it has like ef¬
fects there.
It is not to this cause, however, that we are to im¬
pute the effect vomiting has in determining to the sur¬
face of the body. This must be attributed to the par¬
ticular operation of emetics upon the muscular fibres
of the stomach, whereby they excite the action of the
extreme ax*teries on the surface of the body, and by this
means effectually determine the blood to these vessels,
remove the atony, and take oft the spasm affecting
them. For this purpose they are exhibited in two dif¬
ferent ways } that is, either in such doses as may excite
full and repeated vomitings, or in such doses as may
excite sickness and nausea only, with little or no vo¬
miting at all.
Full vomiting is well suited to determine to the sur¬
face of the body, and thereby to obviate the atony an(l
spasm which lay the foundation of fever. Thus, vo¬
miting, excited a little before the expected accession of
the paroxysm of an intermittent, has been found to
prevent the paroxysm altogether. It has been obser¬
ved also, that when contagion has been applied to a
person, and first discovers its operation, an emetic given
has prevented the fever which might otherwise have
been expected.
These are the advantages to he obtained by exciting
vomiting at the first approach of fevers, or of the pa¬
roxysm of fevers ; and they may also he applied after
fevers are formed, to take off, perhaps entirely, tbe
atony and spasm, or at least to moderate these, so that
the fever may proceed more gently and safely. It is
seldom, however, that vomiting is found to produce a
final solution of fevers } and after they are once form¬
ed, it it commonly necessary to repeat the vomiting se¬
veral times j but this is attended with inconveniency,
and sometimes with disadvantage. The operation ot
0 full
MEDICINE.
Pr :tke.
p C3 full vomiting is transitory, ami the exercise of vomit-
■' u- —^ ing is a debilitating power j and therefore, when the
vomiting does not remove the atony and spasm very en¬
tirely, it may give occasion to their recurrence with
greater force. For these reasons, after fevers are fully
formed, some physicians have thought proper to em¬
ploy emetics in nauseating doses only. These are ca¬
pable of exciting the action of the extreme vessels, and
their operation is more permanent. At the same time
they often show their power by exciting some degree of
j] sweat, and their operation is rendered more safe by
their-commonly producing some evacuation by stool.
But nausea continued for any great length of time, is
■to most patients a sensation highly distressing, and al-
SI most insufferable.
The emetics chiefly in use at present are, ipecacu¬
anha and antimony. The former may be employed for
■'determining to the surface of the body: but, even in
very small doses, it so readily excites vomiting, that it
i l is with difficulty employed for the purpose of nauseat¬
ing only j and in whatever manner employed, there is
reason to suspect that its effects are less permanent,
and less powerfully communicated from the stomach to
ii H the rest of the system, than those of antimony. This
last is therefor e generally preferred ; and its prepara¬
tions, seemingly various, may all be reduced to two
heads ; one comprehending those in which the regu-
line part is in a condition to be acted upon by acids,
ti l and therefore on meeting with acids in the stomach it
becomes active ; and another, comprehending those
& I preparations in which the reguline part is already jom-
^.1 ed with an acid, rendering it active. Of each kind
;r.l there are great numbers, but not differing essentially
from one another ; the two most worthy of notice are,
the calx nitrata anlimonii, and emetic tartar, or tartrite
biil of antimony, of the Edinburgh Dispensatory. 'Both
these are very efficacious medicines 5 hut the latter
i seems preferable, because its dose is capable of being
better ascertained ; though the former, on account of
its slower operation, may have some advantages, and in
certain cases be more efficacious as a purgative ami
rj. ■ sudorific.
The calx nitrata antimonii, when first introduced in-
■. ■ to the pharmacopoeia of the Edinburgh college -was
supposed to be very nearly, if not precisely, the same
■(.I --'with a medicine which has of late been highly cele¬
brated in the cure of fevers, Dr James’s powder. But
from more accurate observations, there is now reason
f to believe that the pulvis antimonialis of the London
Pharmacopoeia, formed by the calcination of anti¬
mony with hartshorn, approaches more nearly to that
rt| -celebrated arcanum. But at any rate, the calx anti-
monii nitrata, the pulvis antimonialis, and James’s
powder, are probably not essentially different from
each other. The two latter, however, have the most
near resemblance ; and accordingly the Edinburgh col-
I lege, in their Pharmacopoeia, have introduced an ar¬
ticle under the title of antimonium calcarco-phosphora-
turn, which they consider as so much similar to James’s
j I powder, that they have used as a synonyme for it, the
| title of pulvis Jacobi.
The time most proper for exhibiting those medicines
is a little before the accession, .when that can he cer¬
tainly known. In continued fevers the exacerbations
we not always very observable j but there is reason to
believe, that one commonly happens about noon or soon
after it j and that these, therefore, are the most proper
times for exhibiting emetics.
With respect to the manner of administration, that
of the calx nitrata is simple, as the whole of what is
thought a proper dose may be given at once; and no
more can be properly given till the next accession.
The administration of the emetic tartar is different. It
is to be given in small doses, not sufficient to excite vo¬
miting *, and these doses are to be repeated after short
intervals for several times, till sickness, nausea, and
some, though not much, vomiting come on. The dif¬
ference of administration must depend upon the dose,
aud the length of the interval at which it is given. If
it be intended that the medicine should certainly ope¬
rate by stool, the doses are made small, and the inter¬
vals long. On the contrary, when vomiting is proper,
or when much purging *ought to be avoided, and there¬
fore some vomiting must he admitted, the doses are
made larger, and the intervals shorter. A\ ith respect
to both kinds of preparations, the repetition is to be
made at the times of accession, but not very often : for
if the first exhibitions, duly managed, have little effect,
it is seldom that the after exhibitions have much j and
it sometimes happens that the repeated vomiting, and
especially repeated purging, does harm by weakening
the patient.
(2») The other set of internal medicines which are
supposed useful in taking off the spasm of the extreme
vessels, are those named antispasmodics. But whatever
may be the virtues of some of them in this way, such
is their power of stimulating at the same time, that
very few of them can with safety be administered in
fevers of an inflammatory nature. Almost the only
one-which can with safety be exhibited in these cases
is ■camphor j and the operations of this are by no means
-well ascertained. Dr Huxham mentions it as a cor¬
rector of the acrimony of cantharides ; and assures us.,
that it very cfl’ectually promotes a diaphoresis. But
from the remarks of other practitioners, we have no
just reason to suppose that it acts perceptibly in a dose
of five or six grains, though in 15 or 20 it produces a
particular kind of intoxication.
Secondly, The external means suited to take oft' the
spasm of the extreme vessels, are blistering and warm
bathing.
I. What are the effects of blistering so frequently
employed in fevers is not yet agreed among physi¬
cians. Dr Cullen is of opinion, that the small quan¬
tity of cantharides absorbed from a blistering plaster,
is not sufficient to change the consistence of the mass
of blood 5 and therefore, that such a quantity can nei¬
ther do good by resolving phlogistic lentor if it exists,
nor do harm by increasing the dissolution of the blood
arising from a putrid tendency in it. The effects ot
cantharides upon the fluids, therefore, may be entirely
neglected. The inflammation produced by the appli¬
cation of cantharides to the skin, affords a certain proof
of their stimulant power: but in many persons the ef¬
fect of that stimulus is not considerable ; in many it is
not communicated to the whole system ; and even when
it does take place in the whole system, it seems to be
taken oft’ very entirely by the effusion and evacuation of
serum from the blistered part. It may be concluded,
therefore, that neither much good is to be expected,
JL 1 2 nor
267
Synocha.
—V  
164
x6S
MEDICINE.
Practii
nor much harm to he apprehended, from the stimulant
power of blistering J and the certainty of this conclu¬
sion is established by the great benefit arising from the
proper practice of blistering in inflammatory diseases.
Much has been imputed to the evacuation made by
blistering 5 but it is never so considerable as to allect
the whole system •, and therefore can neither, by a sud¬
den depletion, relax the sanguiferous system, nor by any
revulsion affect the general distribution of the fluids.
The evacuation, however, is so considerable as to affect
the neighbouring vessels y and the manifest utility of
blistering near the part aflected in inflammatory diseases
leads us to think, that blistering, by deriving to the
skin, and producing an effusion there, relaxes the spasm
of the deeper seated vessels. It is in this manner, most
probably, that the tumor of a joint, from an effusion
into the cellular texture under the skin, takes ofl the
rheumatic pain formerly affecting that joint. Analo¬
gous to this, probably, is the goodjcftcct of blistering
in continued fevers, arising from the relaxation of the
spasm of the extreme vessels by a communication of
the blistered part with the rest of the skin. A blister
may be employed at any period in continued fevers }
but it will be of most advantage in the advanced state
of such fevers, when, the reaction being vteaker, all
ambiguity from the stimulating power of blistering is
removed, and when it may best concur with other
circumstances tending to a final solution of the
spasm.
From this view of the matter, it will appear that
the part of the body to which blisters ought to be ap¬
plied is indifferent, except upon the suspicion of topical
affection, when the blistering is to be made as near as
possible to the part affected. Whether sinapisms and
other rubcfacicntia act in a manner analogous to what
has been supposed of blistering may be doubtful j but
their effects in rheumatism and other inflammatory dis¬
eases render it probable.
2. The other external means of taking off the spasm
of the extreme vessels is warm bathing. This was fre¬
quently, and in different circumstances, employed by
the ancients; but has, till very lately, been neglected
by modern physicians. As the heat of the bath stimu¬
lates the extreme vessels, and, with the concurrence of
moisture, also relaxes them, it seems to be a safe stimu¬
lus, and well suited to take off the spasm affecting these
vessels. It may be applied to the whole body by im¬
mersion ; but this is in many respects inconvenient.
From extensive experience it appears, that most of the
purposes of warm bathing can be obtained by a fomen¬
tation of the legs and feet, it properly administered, and
continued for a due length of time, not less than an
hour. The marks of the good effects of such a fomen¬
tation are, the patient’s bearing it easily, its relieving
delirium, and inducing sleep.
Genus V. TYPHUS’, the Typhous Fever.
Typhus, Sauv. gen. 82. Sag. 677.
I. Typhus mitior, or the Slow Nervous Fever. Sp. 1.
var. 1.
Febris maligna hectica convulsiva, sive lues
Willis de morb. convulsiv. cap. 8.
Febris pestilens, Fracastor. de morb. contag. lib, ii.
cap. 4.
Febris pestilens, sine charactere veneni. Forest, 1.
vi. obs. 26. v
Febris hectica pestilens, Forest, 1. vi. obs. 32.
Febris nova ann. 1685, Syaenham, Sched. monitor.
Febris putrida nervosa, Wintringh. Com. Nosolog.
ad ann. 1720, 1721.
Febris lenta nervosa, Huxham on fevers, chap. 8.
Febris contagiosa, Lind on fevers and infection,
passim.
Typhus nervosus, Sauv. sp. 2.
Typhus comatosus, Sat/v. sp. 3.
Tritaeophya typhodes Mangeti, Sauv. sp. 11. JRaym,
Fort, de febribus.
Description. Of all the descriptions we have of the
nervous fever, that of Dr Huxham is perhaps the best.
According to him, the patient at first grows somewhat
listless, and feels slight chills and shudders, with un-
Typh, 1
over, like what is felt after great fatigue. This is al¬
ways attended with a sort of heaviness and dejection
of spirit, and more or less of a load, pain, or giddi¬
ness of the head j a nausea or disrelish of every thing
soon follows, without any considerable thirst, but fre¬
quently with retching to vomit, though little but in¬
sipid phlegm is brought up. Though a kind of lucid
interval of several hours sometimes intervenes, yet the
symptoms return with aggravation, especially towards
night; the head growrs more giddy or heavy 5 the heat
greater ; the pulse quicker, but weak 5 with an op¬
pressive kind of breathing. A great torpor, or obtuse
pain and coldness, affects the hinder part of the head
frequently, and oftentimes a heavy pain is felt on the
top all along the coronary suture; this, and that of
the back part of the head, generally attend nervous
fevers, and are commonly succeeded by some degree
of a delirium. In this condition the patient often
continues for five or six days, with a heavy, pale, sunk
countenance ; seemingly not very sick, and yet far
from being well; restless, anxious, and commonly
quite void of sleep, though sometimes very drowsy and
heavy} but although he appears to those about him
actually to sleep, he is utterly insensible of it. The
pulse during all this time is quick, weak, and unequal y
sometimes fluttering, and sometimes for a few moments
slow y nay, even intermitting, and then with a sudden
flush in the face, immediately very quick, and perhaps
soon after surprisingly calm and equal y and thus alter¬
nately. The heats and chills are as uncertain and un¬
equal y sometimes a sudden colour and glow arise in the
cheeks, while the tip of the nose and ears is cold, and
the forehead at the same time in a cold dewy sweat.
Nay, it is very common, that a high colour and heat
appear in the face, when the extremities are quite cold.
The urine is commonly pale, and often limpid y frequent¬
ly of a whey colour, or like vapid small beer, in which
there is either no manner of sediment, or a kind of
loose matter like bran irregularly scattered up and down
in it. The tongue at the beginning is seldom or never
dry or discoloured, but sometimes covered with a thin
whitish mucus : at length, indeed, it often appears very
dry, red, and chapped, or of the colour of pomegranate
rind y but this chiefly at the close of the disease : yet,
however dry the tongue and lips seem, the patient sel¬
dom complains of thirst, though sometimes of a heat in
the tongue. About the seventh or eighth day, the
giddiness
,tice.
M E D I
ics giddiness, pain, or heaviness of the head become much
* greater, with a constant noise in it, or tinnitus aitrium;
which is very disturbing to the sick, and frequently
brings on a delirium. The load on the praecordia,
anxiety and faintness, grow much more urgent; and pa¬
tients often fall into an actual deliquium, especially if
they attempt to sit up; cold sweats suddenly come out
on the forehead, and on the backs of the hands (though
at the same time there be too much heat in the cheeks
and palms), and as suddenly go olf. If the urine now
grow more pale and limpid, a delirium is certainly to
be expected, with universal tremors and mbsultus ten-
dinum ; the delirium is seldom violent, but as it were a
confusion of thought and action, muttering continually
and faltering in their speech. Sometimes they a-
wake only in a hurry and confusion, and presently
recollect themselves, but forthwith fall into a mut¬
tering dozy state again. The tongue grows often
very dry at the height, especially in its middle part,
with a yellowish list on each side, and trembles greatly
when the sick attempts to put it out. Frequently pro¬
fuse sweats pour forth all at once, about the ninth,
tenth, or eleventh day, commonly coldish and clammy
on the extremities; oftentimes very thin stools are dis¬
charged, and then nature sinks apace j the extremities
grow cold, the nails pale or livid j the pulse may be
said to tremble and flutter, rather than to beat, the
vibrations being so exceedingly weak and quick that
they can scarce be distinguished ; though sometimes
they creep on surprisingly slow, and very frequently
intermit. The sick become quite insensible and stupid,
scarce affected with the loudest noise or the strongest
light} though, at the beginning, strangely susceptible
of the impressions of either. The delirium nowr ends
in a profound coma, and that soon in death. The stools,
urine, and tears, run off involuntarily, and denounce a
speedy dissolution, as the tremblings and twitchings of
the nerves and tendons are pi’eludes to a general con¬
vulsion, which at once snaps the thread of life. In
one or other of these ways are the sick carried oil’, after
having languished for 14, 18, or 20 days; nay, some¬
times much longer. Most patients grow deaf and stupid
towards the end of this disease (some extremely deaf),
though too quick and apprehensive at the beginning ;
insomuch that the least noise or light greatly oft'ended
them. Many from their immoderate fears seem to
hurry themselves out of life, where little danger is ap¬
parent at the beginning : nay, some will not allow them¬
selves to sleep, from a vain fear of dozing quite away ;
and others from the vast hurry, anxiety, and confusion
of which they are sensible either during sleep or at
their waking.
Causes of, and persons subject to, this disorder. The
nervous fever is most frequently the consequence of
contagion. It most commonly attacks persons of
weak nerves, a lax habit of body, and a poor thin
blood; those who have 'suffered great evacuations, a
long dejection of spirits, immoderate watchings, stu¬
dies, fatigue, &c. ; also those who have used much
crude unwholesome food, vapid impure drinks, or
who have been confined long in damp foul air ; who
have broken the vigour of their constitutions by sali¬
vations, too frequent purging, immoderate venery, &c.
Hence we see how the disease is connected with an ex¬
treme debility of the nervous system ; for when people
CINE.
are prepared for this fever by having their nerves al¬
ready weakened, the contagious particles immediately
attack tire nervous system, without so much affecting
the state of the blood or juices, though the latter are
greatly affected in the putrid malignant fevers.
Prognosis. In nervous fevers, the prognosis is very
much the same with that ol the putrid malignant kind.
And although death be not so frequent as in that mo¬
dification of fevei', yet it may justly be considered as a
very fatal disease.
Cure. As this fever is produced by contagion af¬
fecting the nervous system of a person already debi¬
litated, and thus producing weakness in an extreme
degree, wre have now occasion to consider Dr Cullen’s
two indications of cure omitted under the Synocha;
namely, to remove the cause and obviate the effects of
debility, and to correct the putrescent tendency of
the fluids ; for though, in the beginning of nervous
fevers, the tendency to putrefaction be not remark¬
able, it becomes exceedingly great towards their con¬
clusion.
[1.] In answering the first indication, Dr Cullen ob¬
serves, that most of the sedative powers inducing de¬
bility cease to act soon after they have been first ap¬
plied ; and therefore the removing them is not an
object of the present indication. There is only one
which may be supposed to continue to act for a long
time, and that is the contagion applied ; but we know
nothing in the nature of contagion that can lead us to
any measures for removing or correcting it. We know
only its effects as a sedative power inducing debility,,
or as a ferment inducing a tendency to putrefaction in
the fluids, the former of which at present falls under
our consideration.—The debility induced in fevers by
contagion, or other causes, appears especially in the
weaker energy of the bx*ain ; but in what this consists,
or how it may be restored, xve do not wTell know; but
as nature, seemingly for this purpose, excites the mo¬
tion of the heart and arteries, xve must ascribe the con¬
tinuance of the debility to the weaker re-action of the
sanguiferous system : the means, therefore, which we
employ for obviating debility, are immediately direct¬
ed to support and increase the action ol the heai't arui
artei'ies; and the remedies employed are tonics or sti¬
mulants.
In contagious diseases we know, both from the
effects which appear, and from dissections, that the
tone of the heart and arteries is considerably dimi¬
nished ; and that tonic remedies are therefore proper¬
ly indicated. We ai-e to consider these remedies as of
two kinds; 1. The pow'er of cold ; 2. That of tonic
medicines.
The power of cold as a tonic in fevers may be em¬
ployed in two ways : either as thrown into the stomach,
or as applied to the surface ot the body. As we have
already observed that the power of cold may be com¬
municated from any one part to evei'y other part of the
system, so it will be readily allowed that the stomacli
is a part as fit as any other for this communication, and
that cold drink taken into the stomach may prove an
useful tonic in fevers. rIlns the experience of all ages
has confirmed, but at the same time it has been fre¬
quently observed, that, in certain circumstances, cold
drink taken into the stomach has proved very hurtful;
and therefore that its use in fevers requires some limi¬
tations.
£>;o
M E D I
Febres. talions. W'hat these limitations should be, and what
—v—J are all the circumstances which may forbid the use of
cold drink, it is difficult to determine j but it seems,
clearly forbidden in all cases where a phlogistic dia¬
thesis prevails in the system, and more especially
• •when there are topical affections of an inflammatory
-nature.
The other method of employing cold as a tonic,
4s by applying it to the surface of the body, as a re¬
frigerant power fit to moderate the violence of re¬
action *, but probably it may here also be considered
properly as a tonic, and useful in cases of debility.—
Not only cool air, but cold water also may be applied
to the surface of the body as a tonic. The ancients
frequently applied it with advantage to particular
parts as a tonic j but it is a discovery of modem
times, that, in the case of putrid fevers attended with
much debility, the body may be washed all over with
•cold water. This was first practised at Breslaw in
-Silesia, as appears from a dissertation under the title
of Epidemia Verna, qua; JVratislaviam, anno 1737 af-
■fli.vit, to be found in the Acta Nat* 'Curios, vol. x.
And from other writers it appears, that the practice
has passed into some of the neighbouring countries.
But in Britain the use of cold water externally applied
has of late been more extensively introduced than into
any other country of Europe. For this we are chiefly
indebted to the late ingenious Dr Currie of Liverpool.
He has recommended the dashing cold water over the
whole surface of the body, as a means not only of obvi¬
ating heat, delirium, and other symptoms most urgent
but of putting an immediate stop to the disease. And
there can be no doubt that the practice has often been
attended with the most salutary consequences. But it
is by no means so generally advantageous as Dr Currie
and some others are inclined to believe. It is in but
'Very rare instances that an artificial termination of
fever can thus be obtained j and even as obviating
•symptoms, it is not unfrequently attended with bad con¬
sequences. It can never be employed Avith safety un¬
less Avhere the heat is very urgent. And perhaps all
the advantages of cold immersion may be obtained
merely from cold washing, a practice now very common
in Britain.
The medicines which have been employed in fevers
as tonics ai-e various. If the acetite of lead hath been
found useful, it is probably as< a tonic rather than as
a refrigerant j and the ens veneris, or rather prepara¬
tions of iron which have been employed, can act as
tonics only. The preparations -of copper, from their
effects in epilepsy, are presumed to possess a tonic
power ; but whether their use in fevers be founded on
their tonic or emetic poAvers, is uncertain. And upon
the Avhole there may no doubt occur some instances of
fevers being cured by tonics taken from' the fossil king¬
dom j but the vegetable tonics are the most efficacious,
and among these the cinchona certainly holds the first
place.
The cinchona has commonly been considered as a
‘Specific, or a remedy of Avhich the operation Avas not
-understood. We must observe, however, that, as in
many cases the effects of the bark are perceived soon
-after its being taken into the stomach, and before it
iCan possibly be conveyed to the mass of blood, avc may
f -conclude, that its effects do not arise from its operating
2
C I N F. Practic,
on the fluids ; and must therefore depend upon its Tvphus
acting on the nerves of the stomach, and being there- y-
by communicated to the rest of the nervous system.
This operation seems to be a tonic power, the bark be
ing a remedy in many cases of debility, particularly in
gangrene ; and if its operation may be explained from
its possessing a tonic power, avc may easily perceive
why it is improper Avhen a phlogistic diathesis prevails;
and from the same vierv Ave can ascertain in what cases
of continued fever it may be admitted. These cases
are either where considerable remissions have appear¬
ed, Avhen it may be employed to prevent the return of
exacerbations, on the same footing as it is used in in¬
termitting fevers ; or in the advanced state of fevers,
when all suspicion of an inflammatory condition is re¬
moved, and a general debility prevails -in the system ;
and its being then employed is sufficiently agreeable to
‘the present practice.
Another set of medicines to be employed for ob¬
viating debility and its effects, are the direct stimu¬
lants. These, in some measure, increase the tone of
.the moving fibres; but are different from the tonics,
as they more directly excite and increase the action ot
the heart and arteries. This mode of operation renders
their use ambiguous ; and Avhen an inflammatory dia¬
thesis is present, the effects of the stimulants may be
very hurtful; but it is still probable, that in the ad¬
vanced state of these fevers, when debility prevails, they
•may be useful.
Of all- the stimulants which may be properly em¬
ployed, wine seems to be the most eligible. It has
the adv'antage of being grateful to the palate and
stomach, and of having its stimulant parts so much di¬
luted, that it can be conveniently given in small doses;
• and therefore it may be employed with sufficient safety.
—It may be suspected that Avine has an operation ana¬
logous to that of opium ; and on good grounds. But
•we can distinctly remark its stimulant power only; Avhich
■renders its effects in the phrenetic delirium manifestly
hurtful; and in the mild delirium depending on debili¬
ty, as remarkably useful.
[2.] We must noAV proceed to the other indication
.of cure, namely, to correct or obviate the tendency in
•the fluids to putrefaction. This may be done, I. By
avoiding any new application of putrid or putrescent
•matter. 2. By evacuating the putrid or putrescent
matter already present in -the body. 3. By correcting
the putrid or putrescent matter remaining in the body
by diluents and antiseptics. 4. By supporting the tone
of the vessels, and thereby resisting further putrefaction,
or obviating its effects. 5. By moderating the vio¬
lence of reaction, considered as a means of increasing
putrefaction.
The further application of putrid or putrescent mat¬
ter may be avoided, 1. By removing the patient from
places filled Avith corrupted air. 2. By preventing the
■ accumulation of the patient’s own effluvia, by a constant
ventilation, and by a frequent change of bedclothes and
body linen. 3. By the* careful and speedy removal of
all excremental matters from ;the patient’s chamber.
4. By avoiding animal food.
The putrid or putrescent matter already present m
the body, may be evacuated partly by frequent evacu¬
ations of the contents of the intestines; and more
effectually still by supporting the excretions of perspi¬
ration
Prj-tice.
K4.cs. ration and urine by the plentiful use of diluents. That
u*- ' which remains in the body may be rendered more mild
and innocent by the use of diluents, or may be cox-rect-
ed by the use of antiseptics. These last are of many
and various kinds 5 but which of them are conveniently
applicable, or more particularly suited to the case of
fevei's, is not well ascertained. Those most certainly
applicable and useful ai’e acescent aliments, particularly
fruits, acids of all kinds, and neutral salts.
The progress of putrefaction may be considei'ably
retarded, and its effects obviated, by supporting the
tone of the vessels j and this may be done by tonic
medicines, of which the chief are cold, and the Peru¬
vian bark, as already mentioned. The violence of
reaction increasing the tendency to puti-efaction, may
be moderated by the means already mentioned under
Synocha.
These are the proper indications to be observed in
the cure of the slow nervous fever ; and they are
chiefly fulfilled by cleanliness, cool air, and diluents j
which, perhaps, upon the whole, are more useful in
fevers, than all other practices put together. Dr
Huxham observes, that evacuations (especially bleed¬
ing), are improper even at the beginning. Even a
common purgative given at this time hath been follow¬
ed by surprising languors, syncope, and a train of other
ill symptoms. It may, however, sometimes be neces¬
sary to cleanse the stomach and primae via; by a gentle
emetic, or a mild laxative. Indeed, where nausea, sick¬
ness and load at stomach are urgent, as is frequently
the case in the beginning of this fever, a vomit is ne¬
cessary. Clysters of milk, sugar, and salt, may be
injected with safety and advantage every second or
third day, if nature wants to be prompted to stool.
The temperate, cordial, diaphoretic medicines, are
certainly, accoi'ding to our author, most proper in these
fevers j and a well-regulated, supporting, diluting diet
is necessai-y. The latter of itself, judiciously managed,
will go a great way in the cure, especially if assisted by
well-timed and well-applied blisters, and a due cai-e to
keep the patient as quiet as possible both in body and
mind. But it should be noted, that strong opiates are
commonly very pernicious, however much the want of
sleep and restlessness may seem to demand them. Mild
diaphoretics, such as neutral draughts or elixir pare-
goiicum, have much better effects } which, by raising
a gentle easy sweat, or at least a plentiful pei’spiration,
calm the hurry of the spirits, and a refreshing sleep en¬
sues. Where the confusion and dejection of spirits are
very considerable, blister's have been advised to be ap¬
plied to the neck, occiput, or behind the ears; and dur¬
ing all this a free use of thin wine whey, some pleasant
ptisan or gruel, with a little pure wine, must be directed.
Indeed the patients, in this case, should di'ink frequent¬
ly j though such quantities may not be necessary as in
the ardent or even putrid malignant fevers 5 yet they
should be sufficient to carry on the work of dilution,
support the sweats, and supply the blood with fresh and
wholesome fluids, in place of that noxious matter which
is continually passing off*. In this view also a thin
chicken broth is of service, both as food and physic, es¬
pecially towards the decline of the disease j and for the
same reason thin jellies of hartshorn, sago, and panada,
are useful, adding a little wine to them, and the juice
orange or lemon.
. 27r
It is observable, that the sick arc never so easy as Typhus,
when they are in a gentle sweat 5 for this soon removes l'—— y-
the hurry of spirits, exacerbations of* heat, &c. But
profuse sweats should never be encouraged, much less
induced, by very strong heating medicines, especially
in the beginning or advance of the fever; for they
too much exhaust the vital powers, and are followed
by a vast dejection of spirits, tremors, startings of the
tendons, and sometimes end m rigors, cold clammy
sweats, syncope, or a comatose disposition. Some¬
times irregular partial heats and flushes succeed, with
great anxiety, restlessness, delirium, difficulty of breath¬
ing, and a vast load and oppression in the prcecor-
dia, so as to incline the less cautious observer to think
there may he something pneumonic in it; but even
here we must beware of bleeding, as the pulse will be
found very small and unequal, though very quick. Nor
is bleeding contraindicated only by the weakness and
fluttering of the pulse, but also by the pale, limpid,
and watery urine which is commonly attendant. These
symptoms denote the load, anxiety, and oppression on
the preccordia to proceed from an affection of the ner¬
vous system, and not from a pneumonic obstruction or
inflammation. The breathing in this case, though thick
and laborious, is not hot, but a kind of sighing or sob¬
bing respiration, nor is there often any kind of cough
concomitant; so that it has been conjectured to proceed
from some spasm on the vitals. Here therefore the
nervous cordial medicines are indicated, and blisters to
the thighs, legs, or arms.
The above-mentioned difficulty of breathing, anxie¬
ty, and oppression, many times precede a miliary erup¬
tion, which often appears on the seventh, ninth, or
eleventh day of the fever, and sometimes later. In¬
deed great anxiety and oppression on the praecordia al¬
ways precede pustular eruptions of any kind in all
sorts of fevers. This eruption should be promoted by
soft easy cordials and proper diluents j to which should
he sometimes added some gentle aromatics. These
tend to calm the universal uneasiness commonly com¬
plained of, and also very effectually promote a diapho¬
resis, with which the miliary eruptions freely and easily
advance. But however advantageous these commonly
are, profuse sweats are seldom or never so, even though
attended with a very large eruption. Two or three
crops of these miliary pustules have been known to suc¬
ceed one another, following profuse sweats, not only
without advantage, but with great detriment to the
patients, as they were thereby reduced to an extreme
degree of weakness ; so that they justly may be reckon¬
ed symptomatic rather than any thing else, and the con¬
sequent eruption is often merely the symptom of a symp¬
tom.
In these profuse colliquative sweatings a little gener¬
ous red wine (diluted somewhat, if necessary) may be
given with the greatest advantage; as it presently mo¬
derates the sweats, supports the patient, and keeps up
the miliary papulae if they happen to attend. 1 ©wards
the decline of the fever also, where the sweats are
abundant and weakening, small doses of the tincture of
cinchona with saffron and snakeroot may be given with
the greatest advantage, frequently interposing a dose
of rhubarb to carry off the putrid colluvies in the first
passages j which withal makes the remissions or inter¬
missions that often happen in the decline of nervous
fevers
MEDICINE
272
Febres.
l66
MEDICI N E, Practi
fevers more ilxstxnct a.n(l msnifest, jukI gives a fairer op¬
portunity of throwing in the hark j for in the propt >
exhibition of this medicine we are to place our chief
hope of curing both the nervous and putrid malignant
fevers.
II. Typhus gravior, or the putrid, pestilential, or ma¬
lignant Fever. Sp. I. var. 2.
Febris pestilens, P. Sal. Fivers, de febre pesti-
lenti.
Febris pestilens /Egyptiorum, Alpin. de med. /E-
gypt. 1. i. cap. 14.
Typhus TEgyptiacus, Sauv. sp. 6.
Febris pestilens maligna, Sennert. de febribus, 1. iv.
cap. 10.
Fehris maligna pestilens, Fiver, 1. xvii. sect. in.
caP- I*
Febris pestilens maligna, ann. 1643, ^e‘
hribus, cap. 14.
Typhus carcerum, Sauv. sp. 1.
Febris nautica pestilentialis, Huxham de acre ad
ann. 1740.
Miliaris nautica, Sauv. sp. g.
Febris putrida contagiosa in carceribus genita, Hux-
ham de acre ad ann. 1742-
Miliaris purpurata, Sauv. sp. h.
Fehris carcerum et nosocomiorum. Prrnglc. Diseases
of the army, p. 294* Pan Swieten, Maladies des
armes, p. 136.
Typhus castrensis, Sauv. sp. 5.
Febris castrensis, quam vulgo cephalalgiam epidemi-
cam vocant, Henr. Man et A. Ph. Kopk. Diss.
apud Hallerum, tom. v.
Febris Hungarica sive castrensis, Juncker, 74. et
plurium auciorum.
Febris castrensis Gallorum in Bohemia, ann. I742»
Scrinci. Diss. apud Haller, tom. v.
Febris petechialis, Sennert. 1. iv. cap. 13. Fiver.
prax. 1. xvii. sect. iii. cap. 1. FLojfm. ii. p. 84.
Juncker, 73. Huxham on fevers, chap. 8. Lud¬
wig. Inst. med. clin. IS0 146. Schreiber von er-
kentness, und cur der Krank heiten, p. 126.
Monro, Diseases of military hospitals, p. 1.
Febris catarrhalis maligna petechizans, Juncker, 72.
Hoffm. ii. 75. Filer de cogn. et cur. morb.
sect. vi.
Febris quae lenticulas, puncticula, aut peticulas
vocant, Fracastorius de morb. contag. lib. ii.
cap. 6.
Febris peticularis Tridenti, ann. 1591. Foboretus de
febr. peticul.
Febris petechialis epidemica Colonia", ann. 1672.
Donckers, Idia febris petechialis.
Fehris petechialis epidemica Posonii, 1683, C. F.
Loeu in App. ad A. N. C. vol. ii.
Febris petechialis epidemica Mutinse, 1692. Fa-
mazxini. Const. Mutinensis, oper. p. 177.
Febris maligna petechizans, ann. 1698. Hoffm. ii.
p. 80.
Fehris petechialis'Wratislavi*, ann. 1699. Helwich,
Ephem. Germ. D. III. A. \ II. etk lil. obs.
132. p. 616.
Febris epidemica Lipsiae, 1718. M. Adolph. A.
N. C. III. obs. 131. p. 296.
Febris endemica et epidemica Corcagiensis, ann.
1
1708, 1718, et seq. Rogers, Essay on Epidemic Typfo
diseases.
Febris continua epidemica Corcagiensis, aim. 1719.
et seq. M. O'Conncl, Obs. de morhis.
Febris petechialis epidemica Cremonse, 1734. Pal-
carenghi Med. ration, sect. 3.
Febris petechizans Petropoli, 1735. Weitbrecht.
Diss. apud Haller, tom. v.
Febris petechialis, ann. 1740, 1741, in Hassia,
Fitter. A. N. C. vol. vii. ohs. 4.
Febris maligna petechialis Rintelli, 1741. Furste-
nau, A. N. C. vol. vii. obs. 5.
Febris petechialis epidemica Silesiae, 1741, et seq.
Bandhorst. Diss. apud Haller, tom. v.
Febris petechialis epidemica Viennse, 1757. Hase-
nohrl. Hist. med. cap. 2.
Febris petechialis epidemica EipsiEe, 1757* Ludu,"
vig. Adversar. tom. i. pars 1.
Febris petechialis epidemica variis Germaniae locis
ah ann. 1755 ad 1761. Struck de morbo cum
petechiis.
Description. This disease has been supposed to differ
from the former in degree only $ and there are many
circumstances which would lead us to conclude, that
both frequently originate from a contagion precisely of
the same nature. In the same manner we see, during
different seasons, and in different circumstances, vari¬
ous degrees of malignity in smallpox. Though every
instance of the disease depends on the introduction of
a peculiar and specific contagion into the body, yet
this contagion in particular epidemics evidently pos¬
sesses peculiar malignancy. The same is probably the
case with the typhoid fever: But whether this obser¬
vation be well founded or not, there cannot be a doubt
that the typhus gravior or putrid fever is a disease
of the most dangerous nature, as, besides the extreme
debility of the nervous system, there is a rapid ten¬
dency of the fluids to putrefaction, which sometimes
cuts off the patient in a few days, nay, in the warm
climates, in 12 or 14 hours j or if the patient recovers,
he is for a long time, even in this country, in an ex¬
ceeding weak state, and requires many weeks to reco¬
ver his former health.
The putrid fevers, according to Huxham, make
their attack with much more violence than the slow
nervous ones •, the rigors are sometimes very great,
though sometimes scarce felt; the heats much sharper
and permanent; yet, at first, sudden, transient, and re¬
mittent : the pulse more tense and hard, but common¬
ly quick and small; though sometimes slow, and seem¬
ingly regular for a time, and then fluttering and une¬
qual. The headach, nausea, and vomiting, are much
more considerable even from the beginning. Some¬
times a severe fixed pain is felt in one or both temples,
or over one or both eyebrows; frequently in the bot¬
tom of the orbits of the eyes. The eyes always appear
very dull, heavy, sometimes yellowish, and very often
a little inflamed. The countenance seems bloated,
and more dead-coloured than usual. Commonly the
temporal arteries throb much, and a tinnitus aurium is
very troublesome : a strong vibration also of the caro¬
tid arteries frequently takes place in the advance of the
fever, though the pulse at the wrist may be small, nay
even slow ; this is a certain sign of an impending deli¬
rium,
tice. • M E D I
| s. riuni, anti generally proceeds from some considerable
' obstructions in the brain.
The prostration of spirits, weakness, and faintness,
are often surprisingly great and sudden, though no in¬
ordinate evacuation happens ; and this too sometimes
when the pulse seems tolerably strong. The respira¬
tion is most commonly laborious, and interrupted with
a kind of sighing or sobbing, and the breath is hot and
offensive.
Few or none of these fevers are without pain in the
back and loins; alwrays an universal weariness or sore¬
ness is felt, and often much pain in the limbs. Some¬
times a great heat, load, and pain, affect the pit of the
stomach, with perpetual vomiting of porraceous or black
bile, and a most troublesome singultus ; the matter dis¬
charged is frequently of a very nauseous smell. The
tongue, though only white at the beginning, grows
daily more dark and dry j sometimes of a shining livid
colour, with a kind of dark bubble at top; sometimes
exceeding black ; and so continues for many days to¬
gether ; nor is the tinct to be got off many times for
several days, even after a favourable crisis : at the height
of the disease, it generally becomes very dry, stiff, and
black, or of a dark pomegranate colour. Hence the
speech is very inarticulate, and scarce intelligible. The
thirst in the increase of the fever is commonly very
great, sometimes unquenchable; and yet no kind of
drink pleases, but all seem bitter and mawkish j at
other times, however, no thirst is complained of,
though the mouth and tongue are exceedingly foul
and dry; this is always a dangerous symptom, and
ends in a frenzy or coma. The lips and teeth, espe¬
cially near the height, are covered with a very black
tenacious sordes. At the commencement of the fever, the
urine is often crude, pale, and vapid, but grows much
higher coloured in the advance, and frequently resembles
a strong lixivium, or citrine urine, tinged with a small
quantity of blood it is without the least sediment or
cloud, and so continues for many days together : by
degrees it grows darker, like dead strong high-colour¬
ed beer, and smells very rank and offensive. In pe¬
techial fevers, the urine has often been seen almost
black and very fetid. The stools, especially near the
height, or in the decline of the fever, are for the most
part intolerably fetid, green, livid, or black, frequent¬
ly with severe gripes and blood. When they are more
yellow or brown, the less is the danger 5 but the high¬
est when they run oft insensibly, whatever their colour
may be. It is likewise a very bad symptom when the
belly continues tense, swollen, and hard, after profuse
stools ; for this is generally the consequence of an in¬
flammation or mortification of the intestines. A gentle
diarrhoea is often very beneficial, and sometimes seems
to be the only way which nature takes to carry off the
morbific matter.
Sometimes black, livid, dun, or greenish spots appear
on difterent parts of the skin, particularly on the breast,
which always indicate a high degree of malignity ; but
the more florid the spots are, the less danger is to be
feared. It is also a good sign when the black or violet
petechioe become of a brighter colour. The large,
flack, or livid spots, are almost always attended*with
profuse hsemorrhagies; and the small, dusky, brown
spots, like freckles, are not much less dangerous than
vol. XIII. Part I. f
CINE.
the livid or black ; though they are seldom accom¬
panied with fluxes ot blood : excessively profuse, cold,
clammy sweats are often concomitant, by which also
they sometimes vanish, though without any advantage
to the patient. I he eruption of the petechiae is uncerr
tain 5 sometimes they appear on the fourth or fifth
day, though sometimes not till the eleventh, or even
later. I he vibices, or large dark blue or greenish
marks, seldom appear till very near the fatal period.
Frequently also w'e meet with an efflorescence like the
measles in malignant fevers, but of a much more dull
and livid hue j in which the skin, especially on the
breast, appears as it were marbled or variegated. This
in general is an ill symptom, and is often attended with
fatal consequences.
Sometimes about the nth or 14th day, on the oc¬
currence of profuse sweats, the petechite disappear, and
vast quantities of white miliary pustules break out.
This is seldom found of any considerable advantage ;
but an itching, smarting, red rash, commonly gives
great relief; and so do the large, fretting, watery
bladders, which many times rise upon the back, breast,
shoulders, &c. A scabby eruption likewise about the
lips and nose is one of the salutary symptoms j and
the more hot and angry it is, so much the better. But
of much more uncertain and dangerous event are the
brown-coloured aphthae 5 nor are those that are ex¬
ceeding white and thick, like lard, of a very promising
aspect. They are soon succeeded by great difficulty
of swallowing, pain and ulceration of the fauces,
oesophagus, &c. and with an incessant singultus : the
whole primer vice become at last affected ; a bloody
dysentery comes on, followed by a sphacelation of the
intestines; as is evident from the black, sanious, and
bloody stools, extremely fetid and infectious. Yibices,
or large black and bluish marks resembling bruises,
are frequently seen towards the close of the fever j
and, wflien attended with lividity and coldness of the
extremities, are certain tokens of approaching death.
In some cases, the blackness has been known to reach
almost to the elbows, and the hands have been dead-
cold for a day or two before the death of the patient.
Such are the general appearances of the putrid ma¬
lignant fever in this country, among those who enjoy
a free air, and are not crowded together, or exposed
to the causes of infection : but in jails, hospitals, or
other places where the sick are crowded, and in some
measure deprived of the benefit of the free air, the
symptoms are, if possible, more terrible. Sir John
Pringle, who bad many opportunities of observing it,
tells us, that the jail or hospital fever, in the begin¬
ning, is not easy to be distinguished from a common
fever. The first symptoms are slight interchanges of
heat and cold, a trembling of the hands, sometimes a
sense of numbness in the arms, weakness of the limbs,
loss of appetite 5 and the disorder increasing towards
night, the body grows hot, the sleep is interrupted,
and not refreshing. With these symptoms, for the
most part, there is some pain or confusion in the head ;
the pulse at first is a little quicker than natural, and
the patients find themselves too much indisposed to go
about business, though too well to be wholly confined.
When the fever advances, the above-mentioned symp¬
toms are in a higher degree} and in particular the
M m patient
M E D I
patient complains of a lassitude, nausea, pains in his
hack, a more constant pain and confusion in his head,
attended with an uncommon dejection of spirits. At
tins time the pulse is never sunk, but beats quick, and
often varies in the same day both as to strength and
fulness. It is little affected by bleeding, if a moderate
quantity of blood be taken away; but it the evacuation
be large, and especially if it he repeated, to answer a
false indication of inflammation, the pulse, increasing
in frequency, is apt to sink in force, and often irre¬
coverably, whilst the patient becomes delirious. But
we must observe, that, in every case, independent of
evacuations, the pulse sooner or later sinks, and then
gives certain evidence of the nature of the disease. I he
appearance ot the blood is various } for though it be
commonly little altered, yet sometimes it will be sizy,
not only on the first attack, but after the fever is form¬
ed. The worst appearance is when the crassamentum
is dissolved } though this does not happen till the ad¬
vanced state of the fever: indeed this seems not easy
to be ascertained, as blood has been so seldom taken
away at that time. The urine is also various. Some¬
times it is of a reddish or flame colour, which it preserves
a long time ; but it is oftener pale, and changes from
time to time in colour as rvell as crudity, being some¬
times clear, sometimes clouded : towards the end, upon
a favourable crisis, it becomes thick, hut does not al¬
ways deposit a sediment. If the sick lie warm, and
have had no preceding flux, the belly is generally
bound 5 but when they lie cold, as they often do in
field-hospitals, the pores of the skin being shut, a di¬
arrhoea is a common symptom, but is not critical. In
the worst cases, a flux appears in the last stage j then
the stools are involuntary, colliquative, ichorous, or
bloody, and have a cadaverous smell •, the effects of a
mortification of the bowels, and the sign of approach¬
ing death. When the hospitals are filled with dysen¬
teric patients, some of the nurses will be infected with
the flux only, and others with this fever, ending in
these bloody and gangrenous stools.
In the beginning the heat is moderate } and even in
the advanced state, on first touching the skin, it seems
inconsiderable : but upon feeling the pulse for some
time, we are sensible of an uncommon heat (the ca~
lor ?nordicans, as it has been called), leaving an un¬
pleasant sensation on the fingers for a few minutes.
A day or two before death, if care he not taken, the
extremities become cold, and the pulse is then hardly
to be felt. The skin is generally dry and parched }
though sometimes there are longer or shorter sweats,
especially in the beginning. Such as are produced by
medicine are of no use, except on the first attack, at
which time they will often remove the fever; and na¬
tural sweats are never critical till the distemper begins
to decline. These last are rarely profuse, but gentle,
continued, and equally diffused over the body : some¬
times the disease will terminate by an almost impercep¬
tible moisture of the skin } the sweats are usually fetid,
and offensive even to the patient himself.
The tongue is commonly dry *, and, without constant
care of the nurse, becomes hard and brown, with deep
chops : but this symptom is common to most fevers.
At other times, though rarely, the tongue is soft and
moist to the last, but with a mixture of a greenish or
yellowish colour. The thirst is sometimes great, but
4
CINE. Practice
more frequently moderate. In the advanced state, the Typ]uis
breath is offensive, and a blackish furring gathers about ’
the roots of the teeth.
Some are never delirious, hut all lie under a stupor
or confusion •, few retain their senses till death : many
lose them early, and from two causes -7 either from im¬
moderate bleeding, or the premature use of warm and
spirituous medicines. They rarely sleep ; and, unless
delirious, have more of a dejected and thoughtful look
than what is commonly seen in other fevers. The face
is late in acquiring either a ghastly or a very morbid
appearance ; yet the eyes are always muddy, and ge¬
nerally the white is of a reddish cast as if inflamed.
The confusion of head commonly rises to a delirium,
especially at night; but, unless by an unseasonable hot
regimen, it seldom turns to rage, or to those high
flights of imagination common in other fevers. When
the delirium comes to that height, .the face is flushed,
the eyes red, the voice is quick, and the patient struggles
to get up. But when that symptom is owing to large
evacuations, or only to the advanced state of the dis¬
ease, the face appears meagre; the eye-lids in slumbers
are only half shut; and the voice, which is commonly
low and slow, sinks to a degree scarce to be heard.
From the beginning there is generally a great dejec¬
tion and failure of strength. A tremor of the hands is
more common than a starting of the tendons } and if the
subsultus occurs, it is in a lesser degree than in many
other fevers. In every stage of the disease, as the pulse
sinks, the delirium and tremors increase j and in pro¬
portion as the pulse rises, the head and spirits are re¬
lieved. Sometimes in the beginning, but for the most
part in the advanced state, flie patient grows dull of
hearing, and at last almost deaf. When tlT fever is
protracted, with a slow and low voice, the sicK\have a
particular craving for something cordial, and nothing
is so cordial or so acceptable as wine. ri hey long for
no food, yet willingly take a little panada if wine be
added. But such as are delirious, with a quick voice,
wild looks, a subsultus tendinum, or violent actions,
though their pulse be sunk, yet bear neither hot medi¬
cines, wine, nor the common cordials.
Vomiting, and complaints of a load and sickness at
stomach, though usual symptoms, are not essential to
the disease } nor are pleuritic stitches, difficulty in
breathing, or flying pains, to be referred so much to
it as to the constitution of the patient, or to a preced¬
ing cold.
A petechial efflorescence is a frequent, though not
an inseparable, attendant of this fever. It sometimes
appears of a brighter or paler red, at other times of a
livid colour, but never rises above the skin. The spots
are small 5 but generally so confluent, that at a little di¬
stance the skin appears only somewhat redder than or¬
dinary, as if the colour was uniform j but upon a nearer
inspection interstices are seen. For the most part this
eruption is so little conspicuous, that unless it be look¬
ed for attentively, it may escape notice. The spots ap¬
pear thickest on the back and breast, less on the legs
and arms, and Sir John Pringle never remembers to have
seen any on the face. As to the time of their appear¬
ance, he agrees entirely with Dr Huxham. These
spots are never critical, nor are they reckoned among
the mortal symptoms ; but only concur with other
signs to ascertain the nature of the disease. The nearer
fM.
ctice.
MEDICINE.
they approach to purple, the more they are to he
dreaded. In a few cases, instead of spots, purple
streaks and blotches were observed. Sometimes the
petechiae did not appear till after death; and there was
one case in which, after bleeding, the petechite were
seen only on the arm below the ligature, and nowhere
else on the skin.
The hospital fever*, though accounted one of the con¬
tinued kind, yet has generally some exacerbations at
night, with a remission and often partial sweats in the
day j and after a long continuance it is apt to change
into a hectic, or an intermitting form. The length of
the disease is uncertain. Sometimes it was terminated,
either in death or recovery, in seven days after the pa¬
tient took to his bed : but in the hospitals it generally
continued from 14 to 20, and some died or recovered
after four weeks. From the time of the sinking of the
pulse until death or a favourable crisis, there is perhaps
less change to be seen from day to day in this than in
most other fevers. When its course is long, it some¬
times terminates in suppurations of the parotid or axil¬
lary glands ; and when these do not appear, it is pro¬
bable that the fever is kept up by the formation of some
internal abscess. The parotid glands themselves do not
suppurate, but only some of the lymphatic glands that
lie over them. Sir John Pringle observed one instance
of a swelling of this kind on both sides, without any
previous indisposition, when the person, not suspecting
the cause, and applying discutient cataplasms, was, upon
the tumour subsiding, seized with the hospital-fever.
Many patients after the crisis of this fever complain of
a pain in the limbs and want of rest; and almost all of
them mention great weakness, confusion in their head,
vertigo, and a noise in their ears.
Ten of the bodies of those who died of this distem¬
per in Houghton’s regiment were opened. In some,
all the cavities were examined \ in others, only the
brain and the bowels. In some of them, the brain ap¬
peared to be suppurated. The first of this kind Sir John
Pringle met with at Ghent; but the man being brought
into the hospital from the barracks no earlier than two
days before he died, he could only conjecture from the
symptoms and the imperfect accounts he had of him,
that his death was owing to a fever of this kind, after
lingering near a month in it. About three ounces of
purulent matter were found in the ventricles of the
brain, and the whole cortical and medullary substance
was uncommonly flaccid and tender; nay, some of
the same kind of matter was found in the substance of
the upper part of the cerebellum: yet this person, with
some stupor and deafness, had his senses till the night
before he died ; so far, at least, that he answered di¬
stinctly when roused and spoken to ; but about that
time the muscles of his face began to be convulsed. Of
two other instances of men who undoubtedly died of
this fever, in one the cerebrum was suppurated, in the
other the cerebellum. In the former case, the patient
was under a stupor, with deafness from the beginning;
but was never delirious, nor altogether insensible. His
pulse sunk early; and about ten days before his death
his head began to swell, and continued very large till
within two days before he died, when it subsided a little,
lor several days before his end, he would taste nothing
but cold water, and during his illness he lay constantly
upon one side. The head being opened, an abscess as
laige as an egg was found in the substance of the fore-
pait of the right hemisphere of the brain,- full of thin
matter like whey. At that time five more, ill of the
same fever, had the like swelling of their heads, but
recovered. In the other case, the abscess in the cere¬
bellum was about the size of a small pigeon’s egg, and
contained also a thin ichorous matter *, nor had this
patient ever been so thoroughly insensible as not to an¬
swer reasonably when spoken to. Two days before he
died his urine turned pale.
Ihese suppurations, however, were not constant 5 foi*
another who died about the same time, and had been
ill about the same number of days with the like symp¬
toms, the pale water excepted, had no abscess either in
the brain or cerebellum. Two were opened afterwards,
in whom the cortical substance of the brain had an in¬
flammatory appearance, but no suppuration. In one of
them the large intestines were corrupted *, that man
went off with a looseness ; and just before he died, an
ichorous matter was discharged from his nose. In the
military hospital at Ipswich, one who unexpectedly died
of this fever after having been seemingly in a fair way
of recovery, had no suppuration in his brain ; but in
another, who died after an abscess in both orbits, the
brain was found flaccid, and about tw ounces of a thin
serum in the ventricles.
Causes of, and persons subject to, tins disorder. The
cause of this fever, as well as that of the slow nervous
fever, is an infection or contagion from some diseased
animal-body, or from corrupted vegetables ; and there¬
fore is very little, if at all, different from those pesti¬
lential disorders which have arisen after battles, where
great numbers of dead bodies were allowed to lie above
ground, and infect the air with their effluvia. This is
confirmed by an observation of Forestus, who w-as eye¬
witness to a distemper of this kind ("which indeed he
calls a plague) owing to the same cause, attended with
buboes and a high degree of contagion. The same au¬
thor also gives an account of a malignant fever breaking
out at Fgmont in North-Holland, occasioned by the rot¬
ting of a whale which had been left on the shore. We
have a like observation of a fever affecting the crew of
a French ship, by the putrefaction of some cattle which
they had killed on the island of Nevis in the West In¬
dies. These men were seized with a pain in their head
and loins, great weakness, and a disorder of the stomach,
accompanied with fever. Some had carbuncles j and
on others purple spots appeared after death.
Galen assigns two causes for pestilential fevers: 1. The
great heat of the weather, when the humours happen to
be in a more putrescent state than usual. 2. A putrid
state of the air, arising either from a multitude of dead
bodies left unburied, as after a battle, or from the eva¬
poration of corrupted lakes and marshes.
One of the most remarkable diseases incident to an
army is related by Diodorus, as breaking out among
the Carthaginians at the siege of Syracuse. That au¬
thor not only relates some of its most distinguishing
symptoms, but reasons well about its cause. He ob¬
serves, that pains in the back and eruptions (QXvx.'roavctt)
were common *, that some had bloody stools ; that
others were seized with a delirium, so as to run about
and beat all that came in their way j that the physi-
M m 2 cians
2 75
Typhus.
M E D I
clans knew no cure ; and that It was the more fatal as
the sick were abandoned by every body on account of
the contagion. As to the cause, the author takes no¬
tice of the multitude of people confined within a nar¬
row compass j of the situation of the camp in low
and wet ground ; of the scorching heats in the middle
of the day, succeeded by the cold and damp air from
the marshes in the night time; to these he adds, the
putrid steams arising from the marshes, and after¬
wards from the bodies ot those who lay unburied.
This distemper seems to have been a compound of the
marsh and pestilential fever.
Forestus remarks, that, from the putrefaction ol
the water only, the city ot Delft, where he practised,
was scarce ten years together free from the plague or
some pestilential distemper. He adds, that the ma¬
gistrates, upon his representation ot the cause, erect¬
ed a wind-mill for moving and refreshing the water.
At that time Holland was much more subject to inun¬
dations and the stagnation of water than at present.
In 1694, a fever broke out at Rochfort in France,
which, on account of the uncommon symptoms and
great mortality, wras at first believed to be the plague..
But M. Chirac, who was sent by the court to inquire
into its nature, found the cause to arise from some
marshes that had been made by an inundation of the
sea ; and observed, that the corrupted steams, which
smelled like gun-powder, were carried to the town by
the wind, which had long blown from that quarter.
About two thirds of those who were taken ill died.
In such as were opened, the brain was found either in¬
flamed or loaded with blood ; the fibres of the body
were uncommonly tender \ and the bowels had either
suppurated or were mortified.
It is needless to mention more instances of pestilen¬
tial fevers being brought on by the steams of corrupt¬
ed substances, whether animal or vegetable. In ge¬
neral it may be remarked, that the putrefaction of
these substances in a dry air is more apt to bring on a
fever of the continued form $ but in a moist air has
a greater tendency to produce remitting fevers. But
it must also be observed, that, even in cases where the
most malignant fevers prevail, all persons are not
equally disposed to receive the infection, though equally
exposed to it with others. Some, through mere vigour
of body and mind, cannot be infected with the most
contagious diseases ; while, on the other hand, those
whose bodies are debilitated by a former disease, by
study, low diet, or want, or those who have laboured
under any of the depressing passions of the mind for
some time, seldom or never escape. Men, therefore,
who have been weakened by accidents (as those who
have undergone a mercurial salivation) are very apt to
fall into this distemper. Those who are taken into
crowded hospitals, ill of the smallpox, however good
the sort may be, fall readily into this fever, and run a
greater risk of dying of it than others. The second
fever is attended with double danger, seeing the patient
has been so much weakened by the first. A sure sign
of the corruption of the air in an hospital is when many
of the nurses fall sick.
Prognosis. In these fevers wre cannot draw a prog¬
nostic from any symptom by itself; and perhaps all of
them together are more fallible than in others. Ge-
C I N E. Practi
nerally the following are good: To have little deli- T J
rium ; the strength little impaired j turbid urine in the '—-y
decline of the disease and at that time a gentle sweat
or moisture diffused over the body, or even the skin
soft and the tongue moist; or to have some loose stools
succeeded by a diaphoresis j the pulse to rise by wine
or cordials, with an abatement of the stupor, tremor,
and other affections of the brain. Deafness is rather
a good sign. A sediment in the urine, without other
changes for the better, is no sure sign of recovery j and
some have recovered in whose urine there was no sedi¬
ment.—The bad signs are, a subsultus tendinum j the
eyes much inflamed and staring y the speech quick, and
the sound of the voice altered; a high delirium} per¬
petual watchfulness j constant sickness at the stomach,
and vomitings } frequent stools, with a sinking pulse,
and the disorder of the head increased j coldness of the
extremities, and a tremulous motion of the tongue.
It is observed to be among the worst signs when the
patient complains of blindness ; when he swallows with
difficulty, or cannot put out his tongue when desired
to do it y when he can lie on his back only, and pulls
up his knees} or when insensible he endeavours to
uncover his breast, or makes frequent attempts to get
out of bed without assigning any reason. If to any
of these are added ichorous, cadaverous, and involun¬
tary stools, it is a sign of a mortification of the bowels
and approaching death. It will not seem strange to
find most of these prognostics common to the advanced
state of other fevers, when we consider, that from
whatever cause fevers begin, by a long continuance
the humours are corrupted, and the brain and nerves
aftected much in the same manner as in those which
arise from infection.
Prevention and cure. As distempers of the putrid
kind never arise without an infection received from
some quarter or other, the method of prevention must
evidently be reduced to two genei*al heads. 1. To
avoid receiving the infection into the body 5 and, 2. To
put the body in such a situation as may enable it to
resist the infection when received. On both these me¬
thods scarce any writer hath equalled Dr Lind of Has-
lar, whose opinions and directions therefore we shall
give pretty fully.
As putrid diseases are veiy common and violent in
the hot countries, it is very necessary for Europeans
who visit these climates to be well informed, in the first
place, of the signs of an unhealthy country, that they
may be upon their guard as soon as they enter any fo¬
reign region. These signs are by this author enume¬
rated as follows.
1. A sudden and great alteration in the air, at sun¬
set, from intolerable heat to a chilling cold. This is
perceived as soon as the sun is down, and is for the most
part accompanied with a very heavy dew : it shows an
unhealthy SAvampy soil, the nature of which is such
that no sooner the sun-beams are withdrawn, than the
vapours emitted from it render the air damp, raw, and
chilling, in the most sultry climates; so that even un¬
der the equator, in some unhealthy places, the night-
air is very cold to an European constitution.
2. Thick noisome fogs, chiefly after sunset, arising
from the valleys, and particularly from the mud, slime,
or other impurities. In hot countries, the smell oi
these
tjitice. M E D I
LJ,s. these fogs may be compared to that of a new-cleaned
_ —j ditch. Diseases, therefore, arising from this cause, ge¬
nerally take place in the night, or before sunrising.
3. Numerous swarms of flies, gnats, and other in¬
sects which attend stagnated air and unhealthy places
covered with wood.
4. When all butchers meat soon corrupts, and in a
few hours becomes full of maggots; when metals are
quickly corroded on being exposed to the air 3 and
when a corpse becomes intolerably offensive in less than
six hours 3 these are proofs of a close, hot, and un¬
wholesome country. And in such places, during ex¬
cessive heats and great calms, it is not altogether un¬
common for Europeans, especially such as are of a
gross habit of body, to be seized at once with the most
alarming and fatal symptoms of what is called the yel-
hw-fever, without even any previous complaint of sick¬
ness or other symptoms of the disease. There has first
been perceived an uneasy itching sensation, commonly
in the legs 3 and upon pulling down the stockings,
streams of thin dissolved blood followed, a ghastly yel¬
low colour quickly diffused itself over the whole body,
and the patient has been carried off in less than forty-
eight hours.
5. A sort of sandy soil, commonly a small, loose,
white sand, as that at Pensacola, Whydah, and the
island of Bonavista, which is found by experience to
be injurious to health. The pestiferous vapour ari¬
sing, during the summer months and in the heat of
the day, from such a sandy soil, is best characterized
by its effects in the extensive deserts of Asia and Africa.
It there constitutes what is called the Samiel-wind ; a
blast which, in the parched desert, proves instantly
fatal both to man and beast 3 but when it passes over a
soil well covered with grass and vegetables, has its
eftects greatly mitigated 3 it is, however, even then,
productive of sickness : thus the southerly winds, while
they blow from the deserts of Libya during the sum¬
mer, at Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli, produce an un¬
healthy season 3 and at Madras the winds, which, in
the months of April and May, pass over a large tract
of sand, are always hot, disagreeable, and unwhole¬
some.
During these land-winds, sudden gusts of a more
hot and suffocating nature are often observed to come
irom these sands once or twice, or even more frequent¬
ly, in a day, which seem to be this vapour in a purer
form. These gusts pass very quickly, and affect per¬
sons who happen to stand with their faces towards
them in the same manner as the hot air which issues
from a burning furnace, or from a heated oven, and
obliges them immediately to turn away from it in or¬
der to recover breath. The effect of this hot suffoca¬
ting blast or vapour on the human body, even when
mitigated by passing through a moist atmosphere, is
the same as that of intense cold 3 it shuts up every pore
of the skin, and entirely stops the perspiration of such
as are exposed to it. These blasts come only in the day¬
time, and always from the deserts. Water is the only
known corrector or antidote against them : hence,
coarse thick cloths, kept constantly wet, and hung up
at the windows or doors, greatly mitigate their violence.
A house so built as to have no windows or doors to¬
wards the deserts, is an excellent protection against
their pernicious effects. The hot land-winds constantly
CINE.
blow at Madras and other places on the coast of Coro¬
mandel, at that season, from midnight till noon 3 the ^
sea-breezes then begin, which relieve the difficulty in
breathing, and the obstructed perspiration, which the
former occasioned.
I hat the heat of these land-winds, as also of the
sudden gusts which accompany them, proceeds from
large tracts of sand heated by the sun, is evident from
the increased heat and suffocating quality of those
winds, in proportion as the day advances, and as the
heat of the season is increased. J he opposite winds
blowing from each side of the Balagate mountains’,
are a further proof of this. These mountains run¬
ning from north to south, divide the Hither Pen¬
insula of India into two equal parts, and separate what
is called the Malabar from the Coromandel coast. To
the former they are very near, but at a great distance
from the latter. The winds blowing from those hills
are on the Malabar coast always remarkably cool 3
but on the coast of Coromandel, in the months of
April, May, June, and July, are extremely hot and
suffocating, as they pass over a large tract of inter¬
mediate sand, heated during those months by an al¬
most vertical sun. Hence the Malabar coast is always
covered with an agreeable verdure 3 whereas the Co¬
romandel coast, during the continuance of these hot
ivinds, seems a barren wilderness, nothing appearing
green except the trees. On the contrary, the winds
that pass over these sands, after being wet with the
rains, are the coldest which blow at Madras. Bottles
of liquor inclosed in bags of coarse cloth, kept con¬
stantly wet, and suspended in the shade, where those
hot winds may have access to them, become as cold as
if they had been immersed in a solution of nitre 3 an
effect owing undoubtedly to the constant evaporation of
water from the surface*
It is an observation of the natives on the coast of
Coromandel, which is confirmed by the experience of
many Europeans, that the louger the hot land-winds
blow, the healthier are the ensuing months 3 these
winds, as they express it, purifying the air* Are not
the winds therefore the cause why the air on the coast
of Coromandel, except during their continuance, is
more healthy than in other parts of India where these
winds do not blow ? Does not this also suggest a very
probable reason, why the plague in Egypt generally
ceases in the beginning of June 3 the periodical hot
winds which come from the deserts of Nubia and Ethi¬
opia having then rendered the air of Egypt pure and
wholesome ? Many have ascribed that effect to the
north winds 3 as the plague not only ceases when they
blow, but all infected goods, household-furniture, and
wearing apparel, are then said to become entirely free
from the contagion : these, however, cannot be the
cause, as the most destructive plague is abated in its
violence, if not wholly eradicated, before they set in.
With equal propriety we may reject the opinion that
the overflowing of the Nile is productive of that salu¬
tary effect, as the plague generally ceases before the in¬
crease of that river is perceptible.
Thus the plague, the greatest calamity which can
afflict mankind, seems to be destroyed by those hot
winds, which are otherwise so pernicious to animal
and Vegetable life. And although, during the conti¬
nuance of these winds, the most fruitful fields wear
the
277
Typhus.
278
Febres.
M E D I
the aspect of a parched desert, yet no sooner the rains
> fall, but vegetation is restored, the plants revive, and a
beautiful verdure is again spread over the face of the
country.
Having thus given an account of the signs of an un¬
healthy country, Dr Lind next proceeds to mention
such employments as are particularly dangerous to Eu¬
ropeans on their first arrival. One of these is the cut-
ing down of trees, shrubs, &c. or clearing the ground,
as it is called. Of the unhealthiness of this employ¬
ment he gives two instances. At the conclusion ot the
late peace, the captain of a ship of war went on shore
at the island of Dominica, with 12 of his men, to cut
down the wood, and to clear a piece of ground which
he intended to have purchased : but, in a few days,
sickness obliged him to desist from this dangerous
work $ the captain and 11 of his men being seized
with violent fevers, which terminated in obstinate in-
termittents, and of which several died. The survivors
suffered so much in their constitutions, that, even after
they came to England, the return of an east-wind was
apt to bring on a violent fit of the ague. The Lud-
low-Castle, a ship of war of 40 guns, in a voyage to
the coast of Guinea, also lost 25 of her men at Sierra
Leona, who were employed in cutting down wood for
the ship. This is an occupation which has often pro¬
ved destructive to Europeans in those climates, and in
which they ought never to be employed, especially du¬
ring the rainy season ; there being numberless instances
of white persons, when cutting down the woods at that
season, who have been taken ill in the morning, and
dead before night.
Another evil, less known, and less suspected, but
no less dangerous, is the sending Europeans in open
•boats after sunset, where the soil is swampy, or where
there are great night-fogs. The single duty alone of
fetching fresh-killed butchers meat at night for the use
of our ships companies in the East and West Indies,
has destroyed every year several thousand seamen. In
those parts of the world, butchers meat must be brought
on board at night immediately after it is killed, other¬
wise it will not be fit for use the next day \ but a con¬
tract made with the natives to send it on board at that
time, which might be done for a trifling sum, would
be the means of preserving many useful lives. During
the sickly season at Batavia, a boat belonging to the
Medway, which attended on shore every night, was
three times successively manned, not one having survi¬
ved that service. They were all taken ill in the night,
when on shore, or when returning on board ; so that
at length the officers were obliged to employ none but
the natives on that business. Great numbers of men
have perished from being employed in this manner at
Bengal, where the European ships often anchor in the
most unhealthy spots of the river 5 and even when the
great night-fogs arise, after the rainy season, the men
are often obliged to perform such night-services in
boats. Now since it is so dangerous for Europeans in
unhealthy countries, particularly during a season of
sickness, to be exposed in an open boat to the foggy
night-air, it must appear that sending them unshel¬
tered, in open boats, far up rivers, in unhealthy
southern climates, for the sake of wood, water, trade,
or other purposes, must be attended with the most de¬
structive and fatal consequences.
CINE. Practic f
Burying the dead in swampy countries is another Typh® ,
occupation which has proved fatal to many, and which '"“v- ^
ought to be entrusted to negroes or the natives of the
country. The effluvia from the ground when newly
opened, whether from graves or ditches, are far more
dangerous than from the same swampy soil when the
surface is undisturbed } nay, in some places, it has been
found almost certain death for an European to dig a
grave, unless long seasoned to the country. In such a
place, the attendance of friends at funerals ought to be
dispensed with.
i n all cases where it is practicable, the ships which
visit these unhealthy countries should anchor at as great
a distance as possible from shore 5 or if obliged to an¬
chor near marshy grounds or swamps, especially during
summer or in hot weather, and when the wind blows
directly from thence, the gun-ports which would ad¬
mit the noxious land-breeze ought to be kept shut,
especially at night. Or if the ship rides with her head
to the wind, a thick sail ought to be put upon the
fore-mast, along which the smoke from the fire-place
might be made constantly to play and ascend. If the
sail should occasion a little smoke betwreen decks, this
inconvenience will be sufficiently compensated by its
keeping oft the direct stream of the swampy shore efflu¬
via ; which now being obliged to form a curve before
they reach the more distant parts of the vessel, must
needs be greatly diverted and scattered.
The best preservative against the mischievous im¬
pressions of a putrid fog, or of a marshy exhalation,
is a close, sheltered, and covered place 5 such as the
lower apartments in a ship, or a house in which there
are no doors or windows facing the swamps. If in
such places a fire be kept either at the doors and other
inlets to a house, or in the chambers, as is practised
in some unhealthy countries during the rainy or foggy
season, it will prove an excellent and effectual protec¬
tion against the injuries of a bad air. On board of
ships also fires may be made at the hatchways 5 and of
the good efiects of this we have the following exam¬
ple. W hen the Edgar, a ship of wrar of 60 guns, was
upon the coast of Guinea in the year 1768, her men
were very sickly, and many of them died : however it
was observed, that in a sloop of war, which was con¬
stantly in company with her, few were taken ill, and
not one died during the whole voyage. This could be
ascribed to no other cause, but that in the sloop the
fire-place for cooking victuals was on the same level
with the deck where the men lay ; and every morning
when the fire was lighted, especially when there was
but little wind, the smoke from the cook-room spread
itself all over the ship, and particularly over those parts
where the men lay ; but from the construction of the
fire-place ot the Edgar, no smoke from it ever came
between her decks.
Persons on board any ship whatever, are much more
safe, and their situation is much preferable to that ot
those who make distant inland excursions in small
boats upon the rivers, and who are for the most part
ignorant of the cause of those maladies which destroy
them. The intolerable heat at noon often obliges
such persons to go in a manner half naked ; while a
free and plentiful perspiration issues from every pore.
A near approach to putrid swamps at this time is apt
to produce an immediate sickness, vomiting, and
afterwards
PrJtice. M E D I
K|,s afterwards a low nervous or malignant fever. If
/ they happen to pass them at night, or lie near them
in an open boat, the air from those swamps is per¬
ceived to be quite chill and cold j in so much that
warm thick clothing becomes absolutely requisite to
guard the body against the impressions of so great an
alteration in the air, and against its cold and incle¬
ment quality : for the effects of it then, even on the
most healthy and vigorous constitution, is frequently a
chilling cold fit of an ague, terminating in a fever
with delirium, bilious vomitings, and purging, or even
death itself.
Where such exposure becomes unavoidable, the only
method is to defend the body as much as possible against
the pernicious miasmata with which the air abounds.—
All those who are employed in cutting down woods, or
in other laborious and dangerous services in hot climates,
during the heat of the day, ought to have their heads
covered with a bladder dipt in vinegar, and to wash
their mouths often with the same liquor ", never to swal¬
low their spittle, but rather to chew a little rhubarb or
some other bitter, and spit it out frequently to stop
their nostrils with a small bit of linen or tow dipped in
camphorated vinegar } and to infuse some Peruvian bark,
garlic, and rhubarb, in brandy, of which a dram is to
he taken, either by itself or diluted with water, morning
and evening.
In the evening before sunset they should leave off
work, and not return to their labour in the morning
till the sun has dispersed the unwholesome dews and
vapours. Those who must of necessity remain on shore,
and sleep in dangerous places, should take care not to
sleep upon the ground exposed to the dews, but in
hammocks in a close tent, standing upon a dry sand,
gravel, or chalk, near the sea shore, and where there is
no subterraneous water for at least four feet below the
surface of the ground. The door of this tent should
be made to open towards the sea ; and the back part
of it, which receives the land breeze, must he well
secured by double canvas, or covered with branches
of trees. But in such circumstances, a hut, when it
can be procured, is preferable to a tent, especially if
it be well thatched, so as to prove a defence both
against the excessive heat of the sun by day, and the
noxious dews which fall at night. Here the men may
he enjoined to smoke tobacco. W hen the air is
thick, moist, and chill, the earth being overspread
with cold dew, a constant fire must be kept in and
about the tent or hut, as the most excellent means of
purifying such unwholesome air, and of preserving the
health of those who either sleeping or waking are ex¬
posed to its influence. The centinels who guard the
water-casks, ought likewise at such a time to have a
lire burning near them. All old and forsaken habi¬
tations, natural caves and grottos in the earth, where
the men may he induced to take up their abode, must
before their admission he perfectly dried and purified
■with sufficient fires. Fire and smoke are undoubtedly
ffie great purifiers of all tainted and unwholesome air,
and the most excellent preservatives against its noxious
influence. It is the custom of the negroes in Guinea,
and also of some Indians (who both sleep for the most
part on the ground), to have a fire, producing a little
I i smoke, constantly burning in their huts where they
sleep. This not only corrects the. moisture of the
CINE. 27,
night, but also, by occasioning more smoke than heat, Typhus,
renders the damp from the earth less noxious ; of which —v—
Hr Lind gives the following remarkable instance.
A Guinea ship being up one of the rivers for the sake
of trade, it wras found to be very dangerous to sleep
on shore : without which their trade could not be so
conveniently carried on. First the captain, then the
mate, and two or three of the seamen, were taken ill 5
each of them the morning after they had lain on shore.
By these accidents the men were greatly intimidated
from lying ashore ; till the surgeon boldly ofiered to
try the experiment on himself. Next morning when
he waked, he found himself seized, as the rest, with a
giddiness and pain in the head. He immediately
acquainted one of the negroes with his condition, who
carried him to his hut, and set him down in the smoke
of it; when his shiverings and giddiness soon left him.
He then took a dram of the bark bitter; and found
himself greatly relieved, especially by breathing some
time in the smoke.—Thus instructed by the negro, he
ordered a large fire to dry the hut he slept in j and
afterwards had every night a small fire sufficient to
raise a gentle smoke without occasioning a troublesome
heat : and by this means he and several others, using
the same precautions, slept many nights on shore w ith¬
out any inconvenience.
Fire and smoke indeed are found to be certain cor¬
rectors, or rather destroyers, of infection in all cases,
whether arising from the noxious effluvia of marshes,
or from the contagion of diseased bodies. Even those
most extraordinary and fatal damps called Jiarmattans,
are unable to resist the salutary effects of smoke. In
other cases, Hr Lind remai'ks, that, under some cir¬
cumstances, the source of an infection in a sick cham¬
ber, or any other place, may he removed or destroyed
by accidental means, for which we cannot account,
and which W'e often cannot ascertain. But it oftener
happens, that it is very difficultly rooted out j and.
that exact cleanliness, with the benefit of a pure air,,
often proves insufficient to remove the evil. Smoke,
however, has never been known to fail. It is not to
he doubted, that, excepting the true plague, there
has been au infection fully as pestilential and as mortal
in some ships as in any other place whatever j yet.
it has never been heard, that any ship, after having
been carefully smoked, did not immediately become
healthy: and if afterwards they turned sickly, it was
easy to trace that sickness from other infected ships,.
jails, and the like places.
There are three methods practised for purifying,
vessels after the men have been removed out of them.
The first is by burning of tobacco. A quantity oi
tobacco is spread on several fires, made with such old
pieces of rope as are called junk. These are dispersed
into different places of the ship, and their heat amL
smoke afterwards closely confined below for a conside¬
rable time.—The second method is by charcoal fires
strewed with brimstone. The heat and steam ol these,
burning materials must also be long and close shut up:
hut although this fume, properly applied, has been,
found by experience to purify most effectually tainted,
apartments, ships, clothes, &c. yet there are some kinds,
of vermin which it will not destroy, particularly lice.
The third method of purification is performed by the
addition of arsenic to the materials of the second pro¬
cess.
28a
Febres.
' . 
MEDICINE. Practic
cess in the following manner. After carefully stop-
i P‘ng UP ^ie openings and every small crevice of the
ship (as was also necessary in the preceding processes),
a number of iron pots, properly secured, are to be pla¬
ced in the hold, or lope, gun-deck, &c. Each of these
is to contain a layer of charcoal at the bottom, then
a layer of brimstone, and so alternately three or lour
layers of each, upon which the arsenic is to be sprink¬
led, and on the top of it some oakum dipped in tar is
to be laid to serve as a match. The men, upon set¬
ting fire to the oakum, must speedily leave the place,
shutting close the hatchway by which they came up.
From the known and experienced efficacy of these
processes, it appears, that fire and smoke are powerful
agents for annihilating infection } and it may be presum¬
ed, even the plague itself. Tins is in some measure
agreeable to what we learn from the ancient records of
physic. But the preposterous use, or rather abuse, of
• fire on such occasions, has caused its eftects to be dis¬
regarded by some, and to be suspected of mischief by
others. The modern practice of burning large fires in
the open air, in the streets, and about the walls ol
towns infected with the plague or other contagion, is
founded on principles groundless and erroneous j and
has therefore been found by experience not only unsuc¬
cessful, but hurtful. But though this must be allowed,
it does not thence by any means follow, that when once
a house has been infected, and the patients removed
from it, the doors and windows at the same time being
shut, that such fires will then prove hurtful} or that, by
this method of purification, all the seeds of contagion
may not be effectually destroyed. Whenever, therefore,
persons die of a spotted fever, a malignant sore throat,
the small pox, or any distemper found to be communica¬
ble from the sick to the sound, the corpse ought quickly
after death to be removed into another room; that in
which the person died should be well aired, by having
the windows opened, till a charcoal fire be kindled, with
some rolls of sulphur upon it; after which, both doors
and windows should be kept shut for a considerable time,
not less than eight or ten hours, till the room be
thoroughly smoked. In several ships, where there are
the fairest opportunities of trying and judging things of
this nature, the contagion of the small pox has been
entirely stopped by wood-fires, sprinkled with brimstone,
kept burning and closely confined in the infected place.
In a word, a judicious and proper application of fire and
smoke is a powerful agent for the destruction and utter
extinction of the most malignant sources of disease } and
they are besides great purifiers of all bad and tainted
air.
Next to the smoke of wood for purifying a tainted
air, that of gun-powder is to be esteemed the best; and
it has this further good property, that it is entirely in-
o(Tensive to the lungs. The cascarilla bark, when burn¬
ing, gives a most agreeable scent to the chamber of the
sick ; thus it is at least an elegant preservative, and may
prevent bad smells from taking effect. The steam of
camphorated vinegar, warmed, is still more powerful for
this purpose. But, besides correcting the ill quality
of the air, and purifying the chamber, another good
effect is produced from such steams and smoke as are
inoffensive to the lungs. As soon as the vapour be¬
comes dense, the nurses and patients become desirous
of the admission of fresh air by the doors or windows.
3
Now it is certain, that the air in the chambers of the Typ!ms
sick cannot be too often changed, provided the patient
be well covered, and the curtains of his bed, if neces¬
sary, be drawn close. No argument is so forcible to
obviate the danger of foul air in a room or ward (oc¬
casioned by the obstinacy of nurses and relations), as
ordering it to be frequently fumigated or smoked : A
practice more frequent in other countries than in this,
but of great benefit to the sick.
Lastly, with regard to the method of purifying
goods, moveables, clothes, &c. which are supposed to
harbour infection, it must be observed, that the usual
custom of only unpacking and exposing such materials
to the open air, is in many instances insufficient to de¬
stroy the latent seeds of disease. It is certain indeed,
that in most cases the contagious particles are more
readily and fatally communicated from the clothes of
a sick person than from his body. The spreading a-
broad, therefore, of contaminated clothes to dry or to
be aired, without a previous fumigation of them, may
be of dangerous and fatal consequences. All such sus¬
pected substances should be first fumigated in a close
place, and in the same manner as an infected chamber,
after which they may be spread abroad and exposed to
the air. In infectious diseases, especially fevers, the
linen of the sick, or such clothes about them as will
admit of being washed, ought never at first to be put
in warm water, as it is dangerous to receive the steam
that may hence arise. It is necessary to steep them
first either in cold water or in cold soap-lees for several
hours, that the filth may be washed oft.
But although the destruction of contagion by smoke
is unquestionably a very important practice, yet it cannot
now be said, that it is the most powerful agent for this
purpose. By the ingenious observations and experiments
of M. Morveau in France, and of Dr Smyth Carmichael
in England, it is now ascertained, that we possess still
more powerful means of destroying contagions, either
in the muriatic or nitrous acid gas. The former may
easily be detached from common sea salt, and the latter
from nitre, by means of the sulphuric acid. Booms
may, with the utmost safety and ease, be filled w'ith
these fumes, although the sick be not removed from
them. But for disinfecting a room, ward, or ship,
when empty, the most powferful article yet discovered
is the oxygenated muriatic acid gas, detached from a
mixture of manganese and sea salt, by means of the
sulphuric acid.
We must now proceed to give an account of the me¬
thod of cure, after these means of preventing the in¬
fection from being received into the body have either
been neglected or proved ineffectual. Here it is of the
utmost importance to take the disease in the very
beginning, before it has time to corrupt the fluids
to such a degree as to endanger life. In slight de¬
grees of infection, a vomit propei'ly administered, e-
specially if succeeded by a blister, never fails to re¬
move the disorder, and prevent the fever which would
otherwise unavoidably follow. Of this Dr Lind
gives the following instances. A lady afflicted with
the bilious cholic, had intolerably fetid discharges of
corrupted matters upwards and downwards. A gentle¬
woman, only in passing the room, vras immediately
seized with a retching and sickness, which continued
hours. The juu'se yylie attended was suddenly sei-
tice. • MED
s zed with a giddiness and vomiting from the bad smell,
—J which, as she expressed it, reached into her stomach.
The vomiting became more severe at night, accompa¬
nied with a purging and frequent shiverings. By
means of an emetic both evacuations were stopped :
notwithstanding which, for some days afterwards, she
continued to have frequent tremors, and a violent head-
ach, with a low irregular pulse ; and did not recover
so soon as the patient.
Such slight degrees of infection have been often ob¬
served to be derived from patients of a gross habit of
body when labouring under inflammatory distempers,
and even other complaints. A man was sent to Has-
lar Hospital, supposed to have a fever. He was fu¬
riously delirious, with a quick full pulse. Notwith¬
standing plentiful evacuations, this delirium continued
for two months with short intervals : when the case
was found to be plainly maniacal. A nurse, upon rais¬
ing this person up in her arms, perceived an intole¬
rably bad smell, and u'as instantly seized with shiver¬
ings, sickness, and headach. Finding herself very ill,
she took a vomit in six hours afterwards, and passed the
night in profuse sw’eats by means of a sudorific draught.
Next morning the violence of the headach was "but
little abated ; upon every attempt to move, she com¬
plained of a burning heat and pain in her forehead,
and became giddy. Her inclination to drink was fre¬
quent, and her pulse low and quick. A blister wras im¬
mediately applied to the back; as soon as the blister
took effect, the headach and thirst entirely left her,
and the pulse was calm. Next day she arose and wras
Well.
Many similar instances of infection have been obser¬
ved from putting the dead into their coffins. In par¬
ticular, one man, from performing that duty to
his messmate, was so ill, even after the operation of the
vomit, as to require a blister. In the course of one
week twro nurses were infected by a person in the small¬
pox. Both were seized in like manner with shiverings,
sickness, and headach 5 the one upon receiving the
patient’s breath, the other upon making his bed. In
one, a pain darted into her breast; in the other, into
the breast and into the small of the back. The com¬
plaints of the former were speedily removed by a vo¬
mit, though she continued to have irregular returns of
shiverings for three days afterwards. But in the latter,
though the headach, sickness, and rigors, were great¬
ly abated by the vomit, yet a constant heat and thirst,
with a low pulse, and a violent pain in the breast, in¬
dicated the necessity of applying a blister to the affect-
ed parts, which next morning removed all her com¬
plaints,
A person is often immediately sensible of his having
received infection from the first attack : they gene¬
rally compare the first impression to an earthy disa¬
greeable smell, reaching down, as they express it, into
their stomach, as from a grave netvly opened, but not
quite so raw as the cadaverous stench ; and the effects
0 it, shivering and sickness, are instantaneous. It is
a smell difficult to describe j but it is well known to the
nurses and attendants upon the sick, as it usually ac¬
companies fevers of extreme malignity, and, with the
peculiar discharges from the blistered parts, may be
reckoned among the most constant symptoms of a bad
ever. Some compare the smell to that of rotten straw.
Vol. XIIL Part I.
I C I N E. 28
It often resembles the disagreeable smell of a person Typhus,
labouring under the confluent smallpox at their turn,
thougb not so strong. One person, on receiving the in¬
fection, was sensible of something like an electric shook
through his body. But many are not sensible of any
effect from infection at first; and an infection from
a fever will sometimes continue fox- many days, nav
weeks, discovering itself chiefly by irregular shiverings,
sometimes so severe as to oblige the patients to have
xecourse to their beds once or twice a-day j sometimes
every other day. Among a number thus affected, it
also appears, that such as are put into unseasoned cham¬
bers, or have sat down on the cold ground, lain in raw
damp apartments, &c. are immediately seized with a
sickness at stomach, sometimes with a dangerous pur¬
ging, and often with fevers accompanied with bad symp¬
toms, which others have entirely escaped.
It now remains to consider the proper method of
curing putrid fevers, on the supposition that the infec¬
tion has been allowed to operate till the blood becomes
radically tainted, and of consequence the nervous system
affected to such a degree, that its power cannot be re¬
stored by any of the simple practices above mentioned.
Here all authors agree, that a change of air, when it
Can be effected, is highly advantageous, and often con¬
tributes more towards the removing the disease than
all the medicines that can be exhibited. The utility of
this change will appear from what has been formerly
said ; and we shall only further mention one instance
fr om Dr Lind, in which the effects of bad air appear
to a degree almost incredible. “ It is remarkable (savs
be), that, in the last war, the English ships which touch¬
ed at Batavia suffered more by the malignant and fatal
diseases of that climate, than they did in any other part
nl India, if We except a fatal scurvy which once raged in
that fleet at sea. Soon after the capture of Manilla, the
Falmouth, a ship of 50 guns, went to Batavia, where she
remained from the latter end of July to the latter end of
Januaiy; during which time she buried too soldiers of
the 79th regiment, and 75 of the ship’s company 5 not
one person in the ship having escaped a fit of sickness, ex¬
cept her commander Captain Brereton. The Panther, a
ship of 60 guns, was there in the years 1762 and 1764;
and both times during the rainy season. In the former
of these yea’rs, she buried 70 of her men ; and 92 of
them were very ill when she left the place. In the
year 1764, during a short stay, 25 of her men died.
The Medway, which was in company with her, lost
also a great number of men. Nor was the sickness at
that time confined to the ships : the whole city aflord-
ed a scene of disease and death : streets crowded with
funerals, bells tolling from morning to night, and horses
jaded with dragging the dead in herscs to their graves.
At that time a slight cut of the skin, the least scratch
of a nail, or the most inconsiderable wound, turned
quickly to a spreading putrid ulcer, which in 24 hours
consumed the flesh even to the bone. This fact is so
extraordinary, that upon a single testimony, credit would
hardly be given to it j yet on board the Medway and
Panther they had the most fatal experience ol it, and
suffered much from it.”
But where a change of air is impracticable or in¬
effectual, and where the fever has already made some
progress, Sir John Pringle generally took away some
blood if the pulse was full. When the symptoms run
f N n high*
282 EDI
Febrcs. Iiigli, a plentiful evacuation of that kind seemed indi-
e cated 5 yet it was observed, that large bleedings gene¬
rally did harm, by sinking the pulse, and affecting the
head. Nor was a moderate bleeding to be repeated
without caution ; even those whose blood was sizy, un¬
less their lungs were inflamed, were the worse for a se¬
cond bleeding. If the head only suffered, it was much
safer to use leeches than to open a vein in the arm ;
but in the delirium with a sunk pulse, even leeches were
hurtful. Many recovered without letting blood, but
few who lost much of it.
Emetics also must be used with caution ; for though
they may be of service by way of prevention, yet in the
advanced state of the disease, when the patient has all
along complained of a sickness at stomach, they are
evidently unsafe. Here the antiseptic quality of fixed
air is of much use, and the neutral draughts given in
the act of effervescence are generally attended with
happy effects. Nay, clysters of fixed air itself have
been found serviceable. Even in very bad stages
of the distemper, where a putrid and colliquative loose¬
ness has taken place, clysters of fixed air have been
known to alleviate the symptoms. We must not,
however, put too much confidence in medicines of
this kind. Mild tonic cordials, especially wine and
cinchona, are the only resources in these disorders.
Concerning the former, Sir John Pringle observes,
in the low state of these fevers, and in great sink¬
ings, which either come after unseasonable bleedings
or long want of nourishment, it was a most grateful
and efficacious cordial, to which nothing was compa¬
rable. The common men had an allowance, from a
quarter to half a pint in a day, of a strong kind made
into whey, or added to the panada which was their or¬
dinary food. But to others out of the hospital, he
usually prescribed Rhenish or a small French wTine,
whereof some consumed near a quart per day, and part
of that undiluted. Nay, so great was the virtue of
wine in this stage of the fever, that several were known,
to recover from the lowest condition, when, refusing the
bark on account of its taste, they took nothing but a
little panada with wine, and a volatile diaphoretic mix¬
ture, every two or three hours by turns. Perhaps there
is no rule more necessary in this state, than not to let
the patient when low remain long without taking some¬
thing cordial and nourishing \ as many have been ob¬
served past recoveryj by being suffered to pass a whole-
night without any support about the time of the crisis.
In the advanced state of this fever the sick are remark¬
ably low } and therefore Hoffman advises in such cases,
that they should be constantly kept in bed, and not per¬
mitted even to sit up in it. In the last stage of this
fever, as well as in that of the sea-scurvy, it would seem
that the force of the heart was too small to convey the
blood to the brain, except when the body is. in a hori¬
zontal posture.
But, however necessary wine and cinchona may be
in the low stage of this, fever, we must remember, that
these remedies are to be administered only as antisep¬
tics and supporters of the vis vitce, without aiming at
thoroughly raising the pulse or relieving the head, or at
forcing a sweat by them, before nature points that way,
and which Sir John Pringle seldom observed before the
J4th day.
In the low state of the hospital fever, a stupor was a
CINE. _ Practic
constant attendant, which was very apt, in the evening, Typ}n|
to change to a slight delirium. If this was all, nothing v-
was done. But if the delirium increased upon using
wine, if the eyes looked wild, or the voice became
quick, there was reason to apprehend a phrenitis; and
accordingly it was observed, that at such times all in¬
ternal heating medicines aggravated the symptoms j and-
in these cases, blisters were of the greatest service. Fo¬
mentations of vinegar and warm water for the feet,
Sir John Pringle is of opinion, would answer better than
either sinapisms or blisters, provided they were long
enough and. often enough applied. In the inflamma¬
tory fevers, he has known these fomentations have lit¬
tle effect for the first hour, and yet succeed afterwards.
For internal medicine, cinchona was omitted for some
time, but the patient was continued with an acidulated
drink, viz. barley-water and vinegar j and treated also
with camphire, pulvis contrmjerrcs compositus, and nitre,
as was usual in the beginning .of the fever. If the de¬
lirium was of the low kind, a decoction of cinchona
and wine were the only remedies; for in no instance
was the delirium perfectly removed till the time of the
crisis. It must also be observed, that a delirium may
arise in putrid fevers from two opposite errors; one
from large and repeated bleedings, and the other from
wine and cordial medicines being taken too early.
It appears, therefore, how nice the principles are that
regard the cure} as neither a hot nor a cool regimen •
will answer with every patient, or in every state of the
disease.
If a diarrhoea came on in the decline of the fever, it
was moderated, but not suppressed, by adding an opiate
to the usual medicines. For though the looseness may
be considered as critical; yet as the sick were too low
to bear evacuations, there was a necessity for restrain¬
ing it in some measure j and it has often been obser¬
ved, that when it has been treated in this manner, about
the usual time of the crisis, the patient has fallen in¬
to a gentle sweat, which has carried oft the disease.
In the worst cases of this fever, and especially when
it coincides with the dysentery', the stools are frequent¬
ly bloody 5 in which dangerous state, if any thing
could be done, it was attempted by medicines of the
same kind. In proportion to the putrid nature of the
stools, opiates and astringents were used with the greater
caution.
If the disease terminate in a suppuration upon one of
the parotid glands, the abscess was opened without
waiting for a fluctuation, which might never happen j the
pus being often here so viscid, that after it was ripe
the part felt nearly as hard as if the suppuration had
not begun.
Almost every patient, after the fever, complained
of want of rest, frequently of a vertigo or confusion
of the head, of a continuation of the deafness, or of
other symptoms commonly called nervous. An opi¬
ate was then given at night} and in the day some
strengthening medicines, such as cinchona and the sul¬
phuric acid. In these cases, the bark was found not only
to be the best strengthener, but the surest preservative
against a return of the disease. For this last intention
the convalescent was ordered about three drams a-day
for six or seven days together \ and afterwards, if
he remained longer in the hospital, some smaller quan¬
tity daily. But if there was any appearance of a bee-
.MEDICINE.
:tice.
tic fever from an inward abscess, the case was treated
—> accordingly. Upon comparing some of the remaining
symptoms of those who recovered, with the condition
of the brain in those who died and were opened, Sir
John Pringle was induced to think, that some part even
of that substance might suppurate, and yet the person
recover.
Sometimes the patient falls into an irregular inter-
termittent j which, if not of a hectic nature from an in¬
ternal abscess, may proceed from neglecting to clear the
prim# vice. For it is easy to conceive, that after a long
fever of such a putrid nature, often attended with lan¬
guor of the bowels, the faeces may be so much accumu¬
lated, and so corrupted, as to occasion new disorders.
In such cases, after proper evacuation by a purge, cin¬
chona was almost an infallible remedy.
The Yellow Fever.
Typhus cum flavedine cutis.
Typhus icteroides, sp. y.
, Febris jlava Indice Occidentalism Warren. Malignant
Fever of Barbadoes, Hillary's Diseases of Bar-
badoes. Lining on the Yellow Fever of South
Carolina, Edin. Phys. and Liter. Essays, vol. ii.
M^Kittrick de Febre Flava Indioe Occidentalis,
Edin. 1766.
Description. This is one of the most fatal diseases
to which the inhabitants of warm climates are subject,
and is the same with that called, from one of its worst
symptoms, the black vomit, which is so terribly destruc¬
tive in some of the warm parts of America, particularly
at Carthagena ; and which of late has proved so fatal
in Philadelphia, New York, and the British West In¬
dia islands, as described by Drs Rush, Chisholm, Clerk,
and other late writers. This, though by some con¬
sidered as a new disease, is evidently from the same con¬
tagion which has produced fatal fevers on many former
occasions.
The yellow or putrid bilious fever has been in parti¬
cular minutely described by Dr Hillary. It most com¬
monly seizes the patient at first with a faintness, then
with a sickness at stomach, accompanied in general with
a giddiness of the head j and soon after with a slight
chilness and horror, very rarely with a rigor. These
symptoms are soon followed by a violent heat and high
fever, attended with acute darting pains in the head and
back. A flushing in the face, with an inflamed red¬
ness and a burning heat in the eyes, great anxiety and
oppression about the praecordia, are the pathognomonic
signs of the distemper, especially when attended with
sickness at stomach, violent retchings, and bilious yel¬
low vomitings, with frequent sighing. The pulse is
now generally very quick, high, soft, and sometimes
throbbing, but never hard: in some it is very quick,
soft, low, and oppressed j the respiration quick, full, and
sometimes difficult} the skin very hot, and sometimes
dry, though more frequently moist. Blood taken from
the patient, even at the very beginning of the disease, is
often of an exceeding florid red colour, without the
least appearance of size j and the crassamentum, when
it has stood till it is cold, will scarce cohere, but fluc¬
tuates •, the serum is often yellow.
Most of the above-mentioned symptoms continually
increase, and are much aggravated : the retching and
vomiting become almost incessant 5 the anxiety great,
and sighing frequent; great restlessness j continual tos¬
sing j no ease in any posture 5 little sleep, and that dis¬
turbed and uneasy, and without any refreshment to the
sick. When they are fainting, they turn yellow about
the face and neck, instead of turning pale j and as the
fainting goes ofl, they recover their natural colour.
These symptoms generally continue till the third day,
though sometimes not longer than the first or second ;
in others to the end of the fourth : the first shows the
greater dissolution of the blood, and the greater malig¬
nity of the disease j the last, the contrary j which the
improper manner of treating the disease sometimes has¬
tens and increases, or the proper method retards. This
may be called the first stadium of the disease, and gene¬
rally ends on the third day.
Blood taken from the sick on the second or third
day, is much more dissolved, the serum more yellow,
and the crassamentum florid, loose, scarcely cohering,
but undulates like sizy Water when shaken, and some¬
times has dark blackish spots on its surface, showing a
strong gangrenescent diathesis.
About the third day, the pulse, which was quick
and full before, now generally sinks greatly, and be¬
comes very low : though sometimes it remains very
quick, yet in others it is not much quicker than when
the patient was in health, but is always low 5 the vo¬
miting becomes almost incessant if not so before, and
the matter thrown up is black ; the patient then be¬
comes comatose, with interrupted delirium. The thirst
in some is very great, in others but little; the pulse
still low and quick, attended with cold clammy sweats,
and sometimes with deliquium. The eyes, which were
inflamed and red before, and began to be of a more
duskish colour, now turn yellow 5 and this yellowness
also soon after appears round the mouth, eyes, temples,
and neck, and in a short time diffuses itself all over the
body. But this yellowness is so far from being always
an encouraging prognostic, as some would have it, that
it most commonly proves a mortal symptom. Some¬
times indeed, though seldom, this suffusion of bile upon
the surface has proved critical; but then it did not
come on till the eighth or ninth day, nor appear till the
coma and all the other bad symptoms began to abate j
and then in proportion as the yellowness increases, all
the bad symptoms decrease. But the case is most com¬
monly quite the reverse 5 especially when the yellow¬
ness comes soon on : and then it ushers in the most
fatal symptoms of the disease, viz. a deep coma, a low,
vermicular, and intermitting pulse, great haemorrhages
from various parts of the body, a delirium with labori¬
ous and interrupted respiration, great anxiety, deep
sighing, restlessness, a subsultus tendinum, coldness of
the extreme parts first, and then all over the body, a
faltering of the speech, tremors, and convulsions, which
are soon after followed by death. So that from the fii’st
appearance of the yellowness we may say the patient is
in the last stage of the disease, whether it terminates in
death or recovery.
It has been observed, that, in some strong sanguine
constitutions, when the patients have not been bled to
a sufficient quantity in the beginning of the disease,
the pulse has continued full, strong, and rapid, but ne-
ner hard ; the face flushed, eyes inflamed ; the tongue
dry, with great thirst and heat, till the second or
last stage of the fever is come on, when the pulse has
N n 2 suddenly
284
M E D I
Febres. suddenly sunk, and death soon after ensued. Yet in
others, who seemed to be of a plethoric habit, the
tongue lias been moist all along, though they have
been delirious most of the time, and the heat of their
skin and the strength and quickness of their pulse have
continued, after the first stage of the disease was over,
pretty near to that of their natural state in health, till
within a few hours of death } and when they have had
a coma on them, one who is not well acquainted with
the nature of this disease would, from the pulse, heat,
breathing, and other symptoms, have taken them to be
in a natural sleep. Others, when the pulse has begun
to sink, and the fatal period seemed to be just approach¬
ing, to the great surprise of all present have recovered
their senses, sat up and talked pretty cheerfully for an
hour or two, and in the midst of this seeming security
have been suddenly seized with convulsions which car¬
ried them off immediately.
In the latter stage of this fever, the blood is so atte¬
nuated and dissolved, that we frequently see it flowing
not only out of the nose and mouth, but from the
eyes, and even through the pores of the skin; great
quantities also of black, half-baked, or half-mortified
blood, are frequently voided both by vomiting and by
stool, with great quantities of yellow and blackish pu¬
trid bile by the same passages ; and the urine, which was
before of a high icteritious colour, is now almost black,
and is frequently mixed with a considerable quantity
of half-dissolved blood. The pulse, which was much
sunk before, now becomes very low, unequal, and in¬
termitting j the breathing difficult and laborious ; and
the anxiety inexpressible ; an oppression with a burn¬
ing heat about the prrecordia comes on, though the ex¬
tremities are cold, and often covered with cold clam¬
my sweats ; a constant delirium follows ; and then a
total loss of the outward senses as Avell as the judgment,
with livid spots in many parts of the body, especially
about the praecordia } and sometimes gangrenes in other
parts of the body, which are very soon succeeded by
death.
In a short time after death, the body appears much
more full of livid, large, mortified spots, particularly
about the praecordia and hypochondres, especially the
right *, which parts seem, even from the first seizure, to
be the principal seat of this terrible disease ; and, upon
opening the bodies of those who die of it, we generally
find the gall-bladder and biliary ducts turgid, and filled
with a putrid blackish bile; and the liver, stomach,
and adjoining parts, full of livid or blackish mor¬
tified spots ; and the whole corpse soon putrefies
after death, and can be kept but a few hours above
ground.
Dr Lind is of opinion, that the remarkable dissolu¬
tion of the blood, the violent haemorrhages, black vo¬
mit, and the other symptoms which characterize the
yellow fever, are only accidental appearances in the
common fever of the West Indies ; that they are to be
esteemed merely as adventitious, in the same manner
as purple spots and bloody urine are in the smallpox,
or as an hiccough in the dysentery : like these they only
appear when the disease is attended with a high de¬
gree of malignity, and therefore always indicate great
danger. This opinion, he thinks, is confirmed by an
observation of Dr Wind’s, that in 1750 the crew of
a Dutch ship of war were distressed by the yellow fe-
4
CINE.
Pract
ver, accompanied with the black vomit; but when the T,
ship left the harbour, and changed the noxious land air ^
for one more healthy, the fever continued, but was not
accompanied with the black vomit.
Diseases similar to this fever, Dr Lind informs us,
may arise in any part of the world where the air is in¬
tensely hot and unwholesome ; and therefore he treats
as chimerical the notion of its being imported from one
part of the world to another. An example of this hap¬
pened at Cadiz in Spain, in the months of September
and October 1764, when excessive heat, and want of
rain for some months, gave rise to violent, epidemic-
bilious disorders, resembling those of the West Indies,
of which 100 persons often died in a day. At this time
the winds blew principally from the south, and after
sunset there fell an unusual and very heavy dew. But
his opinion on this subject is liable to strong objections.
And however the disease may originate, yet the late
introduction of it from Spain into the fortress of Gibral¬
tar, from which, by proper attention, it had been ex¬
cluded in former epidemics, demonstrates the contagious
nature of this fever beyond all possibility of doubt.
It has been a matter of much dispute, whether the
yellow fever is of an infectious nature or not. Some
time ago it became an object of consideration before
the Right Hon. the Lords Commissioners of Trade and
Plantations, where it was urged, among other reasons
for not removing the seat of government and justice in
the island of Jamaica, from Spanish Town to Kingston,
that there was danger from Greenwich hospital, situat¬
ed near Kingston, of an infection from the yellow fever
being frequently communicated to that town. On this
affair a physician was consulted, who had long practised
in that island, and who gave it as his opinion, that from
the yellow fever in that island there was no infection.
This was the opinion not only of that gentleman, but
of many others who had an opportunity of being well
acquainted with this fever in Jamaica. But this opinion
probably only arose from these practitioners having con¬
founded the ordinary remittent fever of the West Indies,
which is often accompanied with bilious symptoms, and
is from thence often denominated the yellow fever, with
the typhus icteroides, a disease essentially different from
the bilious remittent which often prevails both in the
West and East Indies. Dr Lind gives a remarkable
instance of its being of an infectious nature.—A gen¬
tleman dying at Barhadocs of a yellow fever, his wear¬
ing apparel and linen, packed up in a chest, were sent
to his friends at Philadelphia ; where, upon opening the
chest, the family was taken ill; and the clothes being
unluckily hung abroad to be aired, they presently dif¬
fused the contagion of the yellow fever over the whole
town, by which 200 persbns died.
In the description of the same fever by Dr Lining,
as it appeared in South Carolina, there are several par¬
ticulars considerably different from that by Dr Hillary.
According to the former, people complained for a day
or two before the attack, of a headach, pain in the loins
and extremities, especially in the knees and calves of
the legs, loss of appetite, debility, and a spontaneous
lassitude. Some, however, were seized suddenly, with¬
out any such previous symptoms. After a chilliness
and horror, with which this disease generally invades,
a fever succeeded. The pulse wras very frequent, till
near the termination of the fever, and was generally
full,
pr :tice.
MEDICINE.
F 'os
full, hard, and consequently strong: in some, it was
J small and hard; in others, soft and small; but in all
those cases, it frequently varied in its fulness and hard¬
ness. Towards the termination of the fever, the pulse
became smaller, harder, and less frequent. In some
there was a remarkable throbbing in the carotids and
in the hypochondria j in the latter of which it was
sometimes so great, that it caused a constant tremulous
motion of the abdomen. The heat generally did not
exceed 102 degrees of Fahrenheit’s thermometer; in
some it was less; it varied frequently, and was com¬
monly nearly equal in all parts, the heat about the prte-
cordia being seldom more intense than in the extremi¬
ties when these were kept covered. On the first day
of the disease, some had frequent returns of a sense of
chilliness, though there was not any abatement of the
heat. In a few, there happened so great a remission of
the heat for some hours, when at the same time the
pulse was soft and less frequent, and the skin so moist,
that one from these circumstances might reasonably
have hoped that the fever would only prove a remittent
or intermittent. About the end of the second day, the
heat began to abate. The skin was sometimes (though
rarely) dry ; hut oftener, and indeed generally, it was
moist, and disposed to sweat. On the first day, the
sweating was commonly profuse and general ; on the
second day, it was more moderate : but on both these,
there happened frequent and short remissions of the
sweatings; at which times the febrile heat increased,
and the patient became more uneasy. On the third
day, the disposition to sweat was so much abated, that
the skin was generally dry ; only the forehead and
backs of the hands continued moist. The respiration
was by no means frequent or difficult; but was soon ac¬
celerated by motion, or the fatigue of drinking a cup
ot any liquid. The tongue was moist, rough, and white,
even to its tip and edges. On the second day, its
middle in some wras brown. On the third day, the
whiteness and roughness of the tongue began to abate.
The thirst in very few was great. A nausea, vomiting,
or frequent retchings to vomit, especially after the ex¬
hibition of either medicines or food, came on generally
the third day, as the fever began to lessen ; or rather
as the fulness of the pulse, heat, and disposition to sweat,
began to abate. Some indeed, but very few, on the
first day, had a vomiting, either bilious or phlegmatic.
^ erv few complained of anxiety or oppression about the
prmcordia or hypochondria, nor was there any tension
or hardness about the latter. On the first day they ge¬
nerally dozed much, but were afterwards very watch¬
ful. Restlessness and almost continual jactations came
on the second day. A great despondency attended
the sick, and the strength was much prostrated from
the first attack. The pain in the head, loins, &c. of
which they had complained before the attack, was
much increased, and in some the pain in the fore¬
head was very acute and darting; but those pains
went generally oft* the second day. The face was
flushed ; and the eyes were hot, inflamed, and unable
to hear much light. On the first day, many of them
at times were a little delirious, hut afterwards not
untl1 the recess of the fever. The blood drawn by ve¬
nesection had not any inflammatory crust; in warm
Weather, it was florid like arterial blood, and conti-
tmed in one soft homogeneous-like mass, -without any
separation of the serum after it was cold. When
there was any separation, the crassamentum tvas of a
very lax texture. The stools, after the first day, were
fetid, inclined to a black colour, and were very rarely
bilious, soft, or liquid, excepting when forced by art;
for an obstinate costiveness attended the febrile state.
I he urine was discharged in a large quantity, was
pale, sometimes limpid, and rarely of a higher than a
stiaw colour, except when the weather was very warm,
anu then it was more saturated, of a deep colour, and
discharged in smaller quantities. It had a large cloud,
except when it was very pale or limpid ; but more ge¬
nerally it had a copious white sediment, even on the
first day of the fever. On the second day, the urine
continued to be discharged very copiously ; in some
it was then turbid, and deposited a more copious sedi¬
ment than on the first day; this sediment was some¬
times of a brownish colour; in which case it wras ge¬
nerally followed by bloody urine, either about the
end of the second or beginning of the third day.—
The colour and quantity of the urine, discharged in
equal times, were remarkably variable, being now
limpid, then of a deeper colour ; now discharged in a
larger, then in a smaller quantity; which could not be
ascribed to any change made either in the quantity or
quality of the drink.
The fever accompanied with those symptoms ter¬
minated on the third day, or generally in less than 72
hours from the first attack, not by any assimilation or
coction and excretion of the morbid matter : for if by
the latter, there would have been some critical dis¬
charge by swfeat, urine, stool, or otherwise, none of
which happened ; and if by the former, nothing then
would have remained but great debility. This fever,
however, did not terminate in either of these salutary
ways, excepting in some, who were happy enough to
have the disease conquered in the beginning by proper
evacuations, and by keeping up a plentiful sweat, till
the total solution of the fever, by proper mild dia¬
phoretics and diluents. But in those who had not that
good fortune, however tranquil things might appear,
yet the face of affairs was quickly changed : for this
period was soon succeeded by the second stadium ; a
state, though without any fever, much more terrible
than the first : the symptoms in which were the follow¬
ing. The pulse, immediately after the recess of the fe¬
ver, wTas very little more frequent than in health, but
hard and small. However, though it continued small,
it became, soon afterwards, slower and very soft ; and
this softness of the pulse remained as long as the pulse
could be felt. In many, in this stage of the disease,
the pulse gradually subsided, until it became scarce
perceptible; and this, notwithstanding all the means
used to support and fill it; and when this was the
case, the icteritious-like suffusion, the vomiting de¬
lirium, restlessness, &c. increased to a great degree.
In some, the pulse, after being exceedingly small and
scarce perceptible, recovered considerably its fulness ;
but that favourable appearance was generally ot but
short continuance. The heat did not exceed the na¬
tural animal heat; and when the pulse subsided, the
skin became cold, and the face, breast, and extremi¬
ties acquired somewhat of a livid colour. The skin
w’as dry when the weather was cold, but w'as moist and
clammy when the weather was hot, tbe respiration
was
286 MED!
Febffis. was natural, or ratlicr slow. ^ The tongue was moist,
■’■w—^ anti much cleaner than in the former stage; its tip and
edges, as also the gums and lips, were of a more florid
red colour than usual. Very few complained of thirst,
though thfey had a great desire for cold liquors. rI he
vomiting or retching to vomit increased, and in some
> was so constant that neither medicines nor aliment of
any kind were retained. Some vomited blood ; others
only what was last exhibited mixed with phlegm 5 and
others again had what is called the black vomit. 'I he
retching to vomit continued a longer or shorter time
according to the state of the pulse 5 for as that became
fuller, and the heat greater, the retching to vomit abat¬
ed, and e contra. The inquietude was very obstinate ;
and when they dozed their slumbers were but
short and unrefreshing. There were some who were
drowsy j but these always awaked, after the shortest
•slumbers, with a great dejection of spirits and strength.
The jactations or restlessness were surprising: it was
frequently scarce possible to keep the patients in bed 5
though at the same time, they did not complain of
any anxiety or uneasiness j but if asked how they did ?
the reply was, Very well. The debility was so great,
that, if the patient was raised erect in the bed, or, in
■ some, if the head was only raised from the pillow,
while a cup of drink was given, the pulse sunk imme¬
diately, and became sometimes so small, that it could
scarce be felt j at this time, they became cold, as in a
horripilatio, but without the anserine-like skin: their
lips and skin, especially about the neck, face, and ex¬
tremities, together with their nails, acquired a livid
colour. The delirium returned and increased; it was
generally constant in those whose pulse was small and
subsiding. The inflammation of the tunica conjunctiva
or white of the eyes increased much, but without
pain. A yellowness in the white of the eyes, if it did
not appear before in the febrile state, became now
very observable, and that icteritious tinct was soon dif¬
fused over the whole surface of the body, and was conti¬
nually acquiring a deeper saffron-like colour. In some,
indeed, no yellowness was observable, excepting in the
white of the eyes, until a little before death, when it
increased very quickly, especially about the breast and
neck. There were many small specks, not raised above
the skin, which appeared very thick in the breast and
neck, but less so in the extremities, and were of a scar¬
let, purple, or livid colour. In women the menstrua
flowed, and sometimes excessively, though not at their
regular period.
There was such a putrid dissolution of the blood in
this stadium of the disease, that there wTere haemorrhages
from the nose, mouth, ears, eyes, and from the parts
>which were blistered with cantharides. Nay, in the
'years 1739 and 1745, there were one or two instances
•of an haemorrhage from the skin, without any apparent
puncture or loss of any part of the scarf-skin.
An obstinate costivenes continued in some ; in others,
the stools were frequent and loose : in some they were
black, liquid, large, and greatly fatiguing *, in others,
when the stools were moderate, even though they were
black, they gave great relief \ in others, again, the
stools nearly resembled tar in smoothness, tenacity, co¬
lour, and consistence.
The urine was discharged in a large quantity, in
/proportion to the drink retained by the patient: it
3
CINE* ^ Eracti
was pale if the patient was not yellow ; but if yellow, Typ]v
then it was of a deep saffron-colour: in either case,*—-y-
it had a sediment, or at least a large cloud, which
remained at the bottom of the glass j in some, it was
very turbid } m others it was bloody . and the quan¬
tity of blood discharged with the urine bore always
some proportion to the state 01 the pulse j when that
became fuller, the quantity of blood in the urine was
diminished j when the pulse subsided, the bloody
urine increased, and even returned after it had ceased
some days, soon after the pulse became smaller. This
stage of the disease continued sometimes seven or eight
days before the patient died.
When this stadium of the disease terminated in
health, it was by a recess or abatement of the vomit¬
ing, haemorrhages, delirium, inquietude, jactations, and
icteritious-like suffusion of the skin and white of the
eyes j while, at the same time, the pulse became fuller,
and the patient gained strength, but very slowly. But
when it terminated in death, those symptoms not only
continued, but sooner or later increased in violence, and
were succeeded with the following, which may be
termed the third stadium ot the disease, which quickly
ended in death. The pulse, though soft, became ex¬
ceedingly small and unequal j the extremities grew
cold, clammy, and livid j the face and lips, in some,
were flushed 5 in others, they were of a livid colour 5
the livid specks increased so fast, that in some the whole
breast and neck appeared livid; the heart palpitated
strongly 5 the heat about the praecordia increased
much j the respiration became difficult, with frequent
sighing 5 the patient now became anxious, and ex¬
tremely restless j the sweat flowed from the face, neck,
and breast \ blood flowTed from the mouth, or nose,
■or ears, and in some from all those parts at once j the
deglutition became difficult $ the hiccoughs and sub-
sultus tendinum came on, and were frequent; the pa¬
tients trifled with their fingers, and picked the naps of
the bedclothes '} they grew comatose, or were constantly
delirious. In this terrible state, some continued eight,
ten or twelve hours before they died, even after they
had been so long speechless, and without any percep¬
tible pulsation of the arteries at the wrists j whereas, in
all other acute diseases, after the pulse in the wrists
ceases, death follows almost immediately. W hen the
disease was very acute, violent convulsions seized the
unhappy patient, and quickly brought this stadium to
its fatal end. After death, the livid blotches increased
fast, especially about the face, breast, and neck, and
the putrefaction began very early, or rather increased
very quickly.
Such was the progress of this terrible disease through
its several stadia. But in hot weather, and when the
symptoms in the first stage were very violent, it passed
through those stages with such precipitation that there
was but little opportunity of distinguishing its different
stadia, the whole tragedy having been finished in less
than 48 hours. It was remarkable, that, I. The in¬
fection was increased by warm and lessened by cold
weather. 2. The symptoms in the several stadia were
more or less violent, according to the heat or coolness
of the weather. In hot days, the symptoms were not
only more violent, but in those who seemed in mode¬
rate weather to be on the recovery, or at least in no
danger, the symptoms were all so greatly heightened,
pra tice
M E D I
Ftij s-
when the weather grew considerably warmer, as fre-
1 qurntly to become fatal. In cool days, the symptoms
were not only milder, but many who were apparently
in great danger in hot days were saved from the very
jaws of death by the weather becoming happily cooler.
3. The disease was generally more fatal to those who
lay in small chambers not conveniently situated for the
admission of fresh air, to those of an athletic and full
habit, to strangers who were natives of a cold climate,
to those who had the greatest dread of it, and to those
who before the attack of the disease had overheated
themselves by exercise in the sun, or by excessive drink¬
ing of strong liquors } either of which indeed seemed
to render the body more susceptible of the infection.
Lastly, The disease proved most certainly fatal to vale¬
tudinarians, or to those who had been weakened by any
previous disease.
Causes of, and persons subject to, this disease. The
yellow fever attacks principally Europeans, especially
those who have but lately arrived in the hot climates..
Negroes are entirely exempt from it, though the mu-
lattoes and tawnies are as liable to be seized with it as
the whites themselves. The cause of the disease seems
to be a particular kind of contagion } but Dr Lind
seems to be of opinion, that the immediate cause of
the symptoms is a disposition in the glutinous part of
the blood to separate from the others, and to become
putrescent. In some persons who have been bled in the
yellow fever, the blood has been observed very vis¬
cid ; the crassamentum covered with a yellow7 gluten
half an inch in thickness, and impenetrable to the fin¬
ger unless cut by the nail} the serum being at the same
time of the consistence of a thin syrup, and of a deep
yellow tinct. This serum tasted bitter, and resembled
a composition of soot. The appearances on dissec¬
tion, with his conclusions from them, we shall give in
his own words : “ In a man who died on the eleventh
day of a yellow fever, whose body emitted no bad
smell 36 hours after death, and was still yellow7, I
found all the bowels of the abdomen sound ; the liver
and spleen were remarkably so} as also the stomach
and intestines. There was no suffusion of the bile ei¬
ther in the intestines or stomach. The gall-bladder,
of the natural size, contained the usual quantity of
bile, somewhat thicker than common, and grumous
(B)-
“ Upon examining further, this disease was found
to have lain wholly on the left side, where, within the
breast, was found near a quart of yellowish water, in
which were many large flakes of yellowish gluten, ap¬
pearing, by comparison, precisely the same rvith the
thick pellicle which had covered the blood taken from ■
his arm. These flakes bore in several places a resem¬
blance to a membranous substance beginning to be
converted into a purulent jelly. The pleura, both on
its inside and outside, as also its continuation, the in¬
vesting membrane of the lungs, were coveretl wdth
cakes of this gluten, hanging in some places loosely, in
others adhering more, strongly ; and all in different
C I N E. 287
states of yellow or purulent corruption. The right ca-- Typhus,
vity of the breast, and all the other parts of his body, "■ >/
were found entirely free from disease.
“ His complaints had been chiefly in his breast j and
a small quantity of blood taken from him two days be¬
fore his death, was covered with an impenetrable, yel¬
low, thick gluten j the red portion below it being quite
loose.
“ In those fevers, I have also seen (says Dr Lind)
the disease entirely confined to the heart and pericar¬
dium. In one who died on the tenth day of the fever,
without having been yellow, a quantity of pus and pu¬
rulent crusts was found mixed with the water of the
pericardium. The heart in different places was exco¬
riated j and, together with the inside of the pericar¬
dium, was lined with a thick membx^anous cake, similar
to that already mentioned on the lungs and pleux-a. In
some places this cake had a purulent, in others a gela¬
tinous appearance, exactly resembling the coagulum of
the blood. His complaints had been, a great oppres¬
sion on the breast, and an extreme difficulty of breath¬
ing. In a third person, who died on the thirteenth
day of the fever, above two quarts of pus and purulent
jelly were found in the cavity of the belly. The source
of such an extraordinary quantity of matter was not
fi'om any preceding inflammation, nor any imposthume,
that we could discover j but from innumerable ulcera¬
tions on the surface of the intestines, omentum, mesen¬
tery, and peritoneum. Neither did those ulcerations
(or excoriations, as they rather appeared in several
places) seem to be the primary fountains of the matter,
but to have been occasioned by its acrimony.
“ Tliis purulent appearance seems to arise merely
fi’om an extravasation of one of the component parts of
the blood, the gluten or fihrine as it is now called.
Blood taken from persons in a fever, and frequently
even from persons in perfect health, after standing in a
clean vessel for a short time, commonly separates into
three distinct portions *, viz. the serum, or water of the
blood, the red concreted mass, and a viscid pellicle
termed the size, which spi’eads itself on the top of the
red concretion. Some time ago, when making expe¬
riments with the blood taken from persons in the scurvy,
I was surprised to find it often covered with that sizy
crust. This induced me to extend my experiments
to large quantities of blood from different subjects,
which 1 had opportunities of inspecting at once in so
large an hospital. For this purpose I one morning
ordered ten patients in the scurvy to be bled, taking
two ounces from each. A larger quantity was taken,
for its inspection, from two men in health, lhat day
I had occasion to prescribe bleeding to a woman in
labour, two hours before her delivery j to a girl of six¬
teen years of age afflicted with a lunacy proceeding
from the chlorosis j to three patients in the rheumatism j
and to a person labouring under an obstruction of the
liver.
“ From a nice comparison, and an examination of
the blood in these cases, I found in general, that the
more
(b) In others who died in this yellow state, the bile in the gall-bladder was found of a thick lopy consistence
like pitch, but the liver never appeared in the least affected. Dr Lind at first in several bodies opene tie lea
€Jfiy; but afterwards judged that all the cavities ought to be inspected.
288
M E D I
Fehres. more size iliere was on the top, and the thicker and
' more viscid this white pellicle showed itself, the con¬
cretion below it was of a more loose coherence. This
was not so observable when only some slight white
streaks appeared on the top. But when much size had
separated itself, the red mass became very soft at the
bottom of the vessel, and less compact in its different
parts, in proportion to their distance from the surface,
towards which this whitish portion had ascended.
“ From this and from other experiments it appears,
that this crust or pellicle is the natural gluten, which be¬
comes strongly disposed, in certain circumstances and
diseases, to separate itself. And wheras the serum and
red concretion are easily incorporated together, it will
be found, that this glue, after its separation, becomes
immiscible with either. We have, by gentle drying,
converted it into a perfectly tough elastic membrane 5
and, by the means of a small portion of the red mass
being left adhering to it, into a substance resembling
muscular flesh ; and it is capable of undergoing various
changes into corruption, in the same manner as either
of these.
“ Now, I can see no reason why this gluten, in its
morbid state, may not separate itself from the circulat¬
ing blood, and be deposited in the cavities of the body,
as readily as the serum does in dropsies j the former
having always a less disposition than the latter to incor¬
porate with the mass.
“ In dissecting persons who died of fevers in Lon¬
don and Minorca, and where no infection was suspect¬
ed, appearances similar to these have also fallen under
the inspection of those accurate anatomists Drs Hunter
and Cleghorn. Hence it may be presumed very diffi¬
cult to distinguish feyers that are produced by infection,
from some others. I cannot, however, be induced to
think, as those gentlemen seem to do, that these pre¬
ternatural substances which were found in the cavities
of the body are the consequence, but rather that they
are the cause, of the inflammation and excoriations. I
believe these substances to be at first diseased extrava-
sated gluten, and conjecture their different states
greatly to depend upon the difi’erent times at which
they were deposited.
“ I have remarked, in a variety of dead bodies,
three different kinds of extravasation j these occui'red in
such as had died of the scurvy, of consumption, and of
fevers. In the former of those diseases, red coagulated
blood is found extravasated in almost all parts of the
body, not only into the tela cellulosa, but into the bel¬
lies of the muscles, particularly of the legs and thighs,
which often become quite stuffed and even distorted
with large grumaus masses. The intestines and mesen¬
tery are often spotted also with extravasated blood ; and
I have seen large ecchymoses on the stomach. Those
appearances at first sight resembled so many distinct
mortifications ; and by this appearance some anatomists
have been deceived} but, upon a nice examination, the
texture of the parts is found to be sound and firm.
There is likewise, in that disease, sometimes an extra¬
vasation of water, chiefly collected in the tela cellu¬
losa.
“ But as, in the limbs of scorbutic persons, it is ex¬
tremely difficult to make a good dissection by reason of
such quantities of extravasated blood that everywhere
obstruct the operator j. so, on the contrary, the lower
CINE. Practj
extremities of those who have died consumptive, with T ,|
swelled legs, are, of all subjects, in the best state toyy ^
afford a satisfactory view of the muscles. The wa- [ ^
ter enclosed in their legs having insinuated itself, by¬
passing the tela cellulosa, into the spaces between the
muscles, the muscles are easily separated from each
other 5 and their several origins and insertions may be
distinctly traced by means of their having been cleansed
and washed by the water in the investing cellular mem¬
brane. Thus there are extravasations of three sorts j
viz. First, The grumous mass in the scurvy j and this
I have often remarked where no serum was observed.
Secondly, The serum alone in anasarcous swellings*
The third and last is what wras taken notice of in those
who died of fevers, being the gluten of the blood, ac¬
companied for the most part with some serum both of
them altogether confined to the large cavities of the
body.
“ I conjecture, that in those fevers there is always
an ulcerous or purulent disposition in the blood : and
that the gluten is greatly diseased. I have frequently
seen it have a true purulent appearance soon after it was
drawn oft’, when the patient seemed not very ill.
“ And I further conjecture, that the mischief often
lies within the breast j as also that the great benefit
derived from the very early application of blisters, in a
great measure flows from so many ulcerations and vents
being timely provided for the free discharge of those
purulent and tainted particles from the body.
“ If an infection depends, as many have imagined,
on the admission of certain foreign particles into the
blood, this gluten seems to be primarily affected by it;
and a discharge of this, by washing those particles out
of the bodyr, tends in a great measure to remove that
disease.
“ It is an observation of the best practical writers,
that issues and setons are most excellent preserva¬
tives against receiving an infection, even that of the
plague itself. And indeed a suppuration and plentiful
discharge from a proper ulcer, whether produced by
nature or by art, seems to open a channel the best ap¬
propriated for an exit out of the body to some of the
most malignant poisons. Thus the most favourable
crisis in the plague, and in most pestilential fevers, hap¬
pens when nature excites tumors kindly suppurating
in the groin or armpits, by whose beneficial and plenti¬
ful discharge the deadly poison is expelled from the
constitution.
“ I have observed it to be amongst the most certain
characteristics of the worst fevers, that the blisters ei¬
ther do not rise and fill, or discharge such yellow',
greenish, fetid, and highly offensive stuft’, that even ex¬
perienced nurses could give a pretty certain conjec¬
ture from the blisters of the different degrees of ma¬
lignity in the fever. We have more than once endea¬
voured to conceal the bad state of some patients in the
hospital j but a discovery was always made of their
condition in the washhouse, from the linen sent there
stained with the discharges from the blistered parts.
And indeed a careful inspection of the state and dis¬
charge from the blisters, together with their effects,
furnishes us, in those diseases, with some of the most
certain diagnostics of their nature, and prognostics ot
their event.”
Prognosis. This distemper, where it attacks with
violence,
pice.
es. violence, is generally fatal die prognosis therefore
must be commonly unfavourable, and always uncertain j
neither can any thing more be said on this subject, than
that an abatement of the symptoms already enumera¬
ted affords a favourable prognostic, and an increase of
them the contrary.
Cure. The cure of this terrible disease, according to
Dr Hilary, is very easy and simple. His indications
are, i. To moderate the too great and rapid motion of
the fluids, and abate the too great heat and violence of
the fever in the two first days of the disease, as much
and as safely as we can. 2. To evacuate and carry out
of the body as much of the putrid bile and other hu¬
mours, and as expeditiously and safely as possible. 3. To
put a stop to the putrescent disposition of the fluids, and
to prevent the gangrenes from coming on, by suitable
antiseptics.
The first indication is answered by bleeding, which,
in the first stage of this fever, is sometimes absolutely
necessary in some degree: the quantity to be taken
away must be determined by the age and strength of
the patients, the degree of plethora, fulness of the
pulse, &c. When called at the beginning, he orders
12, 14, 16, 18, or 20 ounces of blood to be taken
away on the first or second day j and if the patient’s
pulse rise after the first bleeding, or if the fever still
continue high and the pulse full, he repeats the bleed¬
ing once on the days above mentioned. But bleeding
a third time is seldom or never required j neither is
bleeding on the third day almost ever necessary 5 and
when it is performed on that day, it ought to he done
with the greatest caution and judgment: neither should
a vein be opened after the third day in this fever, unless
some very extraordinary symptoms and circumstances
require it} which seldom or never happen. On that
day, indeed, the pulse generally sinks, and the blood
is in such a dissolved state, that bleeding must be ac¬
counted highly pernicious. Nevertheless, it is indis¬
pensably necessary in the beginning of the distemper ;
and if omitted at that time, the violent heat and mo¬
tion of the blood increase the putrescence of the hu¬
mours to such a degree as to bring on fatal conse¬
quences much sooner than would otherwise have hap¬
pened. If blood-letting be thus advised by Dr Hilary,
it has been still more strongly recommended by Dr
Kush, who, in his first publication on the subject of the
dreadful yellow fever which proved so fatal at Phila¬
delphia, represented it as an almost infallible remedy
lor the disease. But the observations and expexflence of
others have by no means confirmed the practice which
he recommended.
After bleeding, we come to the second indication
of cure, namely, to evacuate as much of the bilious
and putrid humours as soon and as safely as we can.
The great irritation of the stomach, by the putrid bi¬
lious humours constantly attending this fever, with
almost continual retchings and violent vomitings, seem
to indicate the giving of an emetic : but the stomach
is always observed to be so violently stimulated and ir¬
ritated, and most commonly inflamed, by the acrimony
ol the putrescent bile, that any emetic, even the most
mild and gentle, given in the smallest dose, brings on
an incessant vomiting, which continues in spite of all
remedies, till a mortification and death ensue. Instead
of this, it is proper to give large draughts of warm
Vol. XIII, Part I. t
289
water, which, without any additional stimulus to the Typhus.
stomach, evacuates its acrid and putrid contents, com-v V'**'—'
monly with great relief to the patient: the warm water
also acts as an emollient fotus to the inflamed coats of
the stomach; and thus abates the inflammation, and
prevents gangrene and mortification from coming on.
After the patient has by this means vomited seven or
eight times, or oftener, and discharged a great quantity
of yellow and blackish bilious matter, a grain or a grain
and a half of thebaic extract is given, in order to pro¬
cure some respite from the violent retching, vomiting,
and anxiety. The person is desired to take nothing in¬
to his stomach for two hours after this, by which means
it is seldom or never rejected ; and thus all the symp¬
toms are considerably abated, the retching and vomit¬
ing either totally cease or are very much lessened, so
that medicines may now be exhibited which the sto¬
mach would not have retained before. These are cool¬
ing acid juleps, or other antiseptic remedies ; hut neither
nitre nor any of its preparations will commonly be found
to stay on the stomach, nor, according to Dr Hilary, are
the nitrous medicines, or even the common antiemetie
draughts, proper to he given in this disease, even though
they should agree with the stomach, on •account of their
attenuating property.
If the patient bas not a stool or two after drinking
the warm water and vomiting, it is necessary to give a
gentle purging clyster j and when six or eight hours
rest have been obtained, a gentle antiphlogistic and an¬
tiseptic purge, in order to evacuate by stool as much of
the bilious matter as we possibly can. Or if the pa¬
tient has a purging before, which sometimes though
very rarely happens, a dose of toasted rhubarb is given,
and an antiseptic anodyne after it has operated, to abate
and check the too great purging, hut not to stop it, as
this evacuation has been always observed to be of ser¬
vice, provided it he not very violent.
After this indication is completely answered, the next
is to exhibit such proper antiseptic medicines as may
stop the putrescent disposition of the fluids. Here the
cinchona would seem to be the most proper remedy j
but unluckily the stomachs of the patients in this dis¬
ease arc so much irritated, and so apt to reject every
thing, that it cannot he retained in any form whatever.
In this case Dr Percival recommends columho root, the
infusion of which is found to be a powerful antiemetic
and antiputrescent medicine, and might perhaps so far
alter the state of the stomach as to make it bear the
bark. Dr Hilary, however, who was ignorant of the
virtues of columho, substituted the radix serpentarice
Virginiance with success. A slight infusion of this root
not only sat easily on the stomach of the patients, hut
moderately raised the pulse and fever, both of whicli
are now too low. The following receipt was found the
most agreeable and efficacious :
]J> Rad. serpent. Virginian. 5ij*
Croc. Ang. 3ss. M. et infunde vase clause in aq.
bul. q. per horam unam ut col. 3yj. Adde aq.
menth. simp. 3ij. Vin. Maderiens. ^iv. Syr. croc,
vel syr. b mecon. 3i. Elix. vitriol, acid. q. s. ad
grat. acid. sap. Exhibe cochlearia duo vel tria sin¬
gulis horis vel bihoris, vel saepius pro re nata.
By the use of this medicine, and soft light nourish¬
ment taken in small quantities, the pulse is usually kept
0 0 up
MEDICINE.
290
Febres. up arid Uie distemper goes off. But if, after taking
’——' this a little while, we find that the pulse does not rise,
hut on the contrary that a coldness of the extreme parts
comes on, the medicines must be made more wanning,
by increasing the quantity of the snakeroot and saflron,
or by adding vinum croceum, confectio cardiaca, or the
like, but not by the use of volatile spirits and salts,
which hurt by their stimulating and dissolving qualities.
Blisters Dr Hilary reprobates in the strongest terms,
and affirms that he has seen the place where a blister
was applied turned perfectly black and sphacelated ; so
that if the spine and end of the ribs had not hindered,
a large square passage would have been opened into the
cavity of the thorax, had the patient lived a few hours
after it.
At the same time that the strength of the patient is
kept up by the medicines above mentioned, or by
others similar, he gave repeated gentle purgatives every
second or third day, and sometimes, -when the symp¬
toms were very urgent, every day, for four or five days
successively. But if proper methods be taken in the
beginning of the disease, it is seldom that such a repe¬
tition of purging is necessary.
Dr Hilary’s plan of treating the yellow fever is, in
our opinion, as judicious as any that has yet been pro¬
posed. But, among the late writers, some have re¬
commended mercury, particularly under the form of
calomel, as the most efficacious remedy which can be
employed. In some cases it has certainly been given
to an almost incredible extent, in a very short time,
without exciting either purging or salivation. And it
cannot be denied, that patients have not unfrequently
recovered under the use of it. But calomel can no
more be reckoned an infallible remedy for this disease
than blood-letting.
Since the introduction of cold affusion, in the cure
of typhus fevers, by Dr Currie, il has been imagined by
some, that this practice would afford a very efficacious
remedy in the typhus icteroides, as well as in the typhus
mitior. But experience has not yet confirmed the uti¬
lity of this practice.
Some have suggested the internal use of the oxyge¬
nated muriatic acid, properly diluted, as an article
from which great benefit may be expected in the yel¬
low fever. This practice deserves, we think, a fair
trial : but the utility of it still remains to be detei’min-
ed by experience.
To the genus of typhus also belong all those fevers
attended with very profuse and debilitating sweats, and
which have sometimes, not without good reason, been
accounted plagues ; such as the English sweating-sick¬
ness, Miliaris sudatoria, Sauv. sp. 5. Ephemera suda¬
toria, Sauv. sp. 7. Ephemera Britannica, Cains dc
ephan. Britan.
l6s Genus VI. SYNOCHUS.
Synochus, Sauv. gen. 81. Lin. 13.
Lenta, Lin. 14.
Phrenitis, Bog. 18.
Febris continua putrida, Boerh. 730.
This is a contagious distemper, being a complication
of a synocha and typhus j for the description and cure
ol which, we must of consequence refer to what hath
been already said concerning these diseases.
Practi
The Untie Fever. Hect
' V
Hectica, Sauv. gen. 83. Liu. 24. Vog. 80. Sag. 684. 16
This disease is reckoned by Dr Cullen to be merely
symptomatic ; as indeed seems very probable, since it
generally accompanies absorption of pus into the
blood from internal suppurations, or indeed from such
as are external, provided they be very large or of a
bad kind.
description. The best, perhaps the only proper, de¬
scription of this disorder we have is that by Dr Heber-
den. According to him, the appearance of the hectic
fever is not unlike that of the genuine intermittent j
from which, however, the disease is very different in
its nature, while at the same time it is much more
dangerous. In the true intermittent, the three stages
of cold, heat, and sweat, are far more distinctly mark¬
ed, the whole fit is much longer, the period which it
observes is more constant and regular, and the inter¬
missions are more perfect, than in the hectic fever.
For in the latter, even during the clearest remission,
there is usually a feverish quickness perceptible in
the pulse, which seldom fails to exceed the utmost
limit of a healthy one by at least 10 strokes in a mi¬
nute.
The chilness of the hectic fever is sometimes succeed¬
ed by heat, and sometimes immediately by a sweat
without any intermediate state of heat. The heat will
sometimes come on without any remarkable chilness
preceding; and the chilness has been observed to go
off Avithout being followed either by heat or sweat.
The duration of these stages is seldom the same for
three fits together j and as it is not uncommon for one
of them to be wanting, the length of the whole fit
must vary much more than in the true intermittent;
but in general it is much shorter.
A patient subjected to hectic fever is little or nothing
relieved by the occurrence of the sweat j but is often
as anxious and restless under it as during the chilness or
heat. When the sweat is over, the fever will some¬
times continue; and in the middle of the fever the chil¬
ness will return 5 which is a most certain mark of this
disease.
The hectic fever will return with great exactness,
like an intermittent, for two or perhaps three fits $ but
Dr Hebei’den informs us, that he does not remember
ever to have known it keep the same period for four
fits successively. The paroxysm will now and then keep
off’for 10 or 12 days j and at other times, especially
when the patient is very ill, it will return sp frequent¬
ly on the same day, that the chilness of a new fit will
follow immediately the swreat of the former. It is not
unusual to have many threatenings of a shivering in
the same day j and some degree of drowsiness is apt to
attend the cessation of a fit.
The urine in a true intermittent is clear during the
fits and turbid during the intervals ; but in the hectic
fever it is liable to all kinds of irregularity. It will he
equally clear or turbid in both stages} or turbid in the
fits and clear in the intervals $ and sometimes it wall be,
as in a true intermittent, clear during the fever, and
thick at the going off.
Hectic patients often complain of pains like those
of the rheumatism, which either affect by turns almost
every
MEDICINE.
M E D 1 C I N E.
s every part of the body, or else return constantly to the
same part; v/hich is often at a great distance from the
seat of the principal disorder, and, as far as is known,
without any peculiar connection with it. Those pains
are so violent in some patients, as to require a large
quantity of opium. As far as Dr Heberdcn has ob¬
served, they are most common where the hectic arises
from some ulcer open to the external air, as in cancers
of the face, breast, &c. Joined with this fever, and
arising probably from one common cause, he has been
surprised to see swellings of the limbs, neck, or trunk
of the body, rise up almost in an instant, as if the part
was all at once grown fatter. These swellings are not
painful, hard, or discoloured, and they continue for se¬
veral hours.
Dr Heberden has seen this fever attack those who
seemed in tolerable health, in a sudden and violent
manner, like a common inflammatory one j and like that,
also, in a very short time bring them into immi¬
nent danger of their lives ; after which it has begun to
abate, and to afford hopes of a perfect recovery. But
though the danger might be over for the present, and
but little of a fever remain ; yet that little has soon de¬
monstrated, that it was kept up by some great mischief
within, and, proving unconquerable by any remedies,
has gradually undermined the health of the patient, and
never ceased except with his life. This manner of its
beginning, however, is a rare occurrence. It much
oftener dissembles its strength at .first; and creeps on so
slowly, that the subjects of it, though they be not per¬
fectly well, yet for some months hardly think them¬
selves ill; complaining only of being sooner tired with
exercise than usual, of want of appetite, and of falling
away. But gentle as the symptoms may seem, if the
pulse be quicker than ordinary, so as to have the artery
to beat 90 times and perhaps 120 times in a minute,
there is the greatest reason to be apprehensive of the
event. In no disorder, perhaps, is the pulse of more
use to guide our judgment than in the hectic fever:
yet even here we must be upon our guard, and not
trust entirely to this criterion ; for one in about twenty
patients, with all the worst signs of decay from some
incurable cause, which irresistibly goes on to destroy
his life, will show not the smallest degree of quickness,
nor any other irregularity of the pulse, to the day of
his death.
Causes, &.c. This fever will supervene whenever
there is a great collection of matter formed in any part
ol the body ; but it more particularly attends upon the
inflammation of a scirrhous gland, and even upon one
that is slight and only just beginning ; the fever grow¬
ing worse in proportion as the gland becomes more in¬
flamed, ulcerated, or gangrenous. And such is the
lingering nature of those glandular disorders, that the
first of those stages will continue for many months, and
the second for some years.
If this scirrhous inflammation he external, or in the
iungs, or some of the abdominal viscera, where the
disturbance of their functions plainly points out the
seat of the disorder, no doubt can be entertained con¬
cerning the cause of the fever. But if the part afl’ect-
cd be not obvious to the senses, and its precise func¬
tions he not known, the hectic, which is there only
[part of the train of another disease, may be mistaken
?or the primary or only affection.
Lying-in-women, on account of the violence sus¬
tained in delivery, generally die when affected with
this fever. Women oi the age of near 50 and up¬
wards are particularly liable to it. For, upon the
cessation of their natural discharge, the glands of the
breasts, ovaries, or wmmb, too commonly begin to
grow scirrhous, and proceed to be cancerous. Not
only these, but the glandular parts of all the abdd-
minal viscera, are supposed to be affected at this'
particular time, and to become the seats of incurable
disorders.
rI he injuries done to the stomach and liver by hard
drinking are attended with similar symptoms, and ter¬
minate in the same manner.
Dr Heberden observes, that the slightest wound by
a fine-peinted instrument is known upon some occa¬
sions to bring on the greatest disturbances, and the
most alarming symptoms, nay even death itself. For
not only the wounded part will swell and be painful,
but by turns almost every part of the body j and very
distant parts have been known to come even to suppu¬
ration. These symptoms are constantly accompanied
with this irregular intermittent, which lasts as long as
any of them remain.
Prognosis. This anomalous fever is never less dan¬
gerous than when it originates from a kindly suppura¬
tion, into which all the diseased parts are melted down,
and for which there is a proper outlet.
The symptoms and danger from some small punc¬
tures, with their concomitant fever* most frequently
give way in a few days ; though in some persons they
have continued for two or three months, and in others
have proved fatal.
The inflammation of internal scirrhous glands, or of
those in the breasts, sometimes goes oft', and the fever,
which depended upon it, ceases; but it much oftener
happens, that it proceeds to cancerous and gangrenous
ulcers, and terminates only in death. Death is also,
almost universally, the consequence of hectic fever
from tubercles of the lungs, which have1' in general at
least been considered as glandular bodies in a scirrhous
state.
Cure. It is not to be expected that the same re¬
medies will in every case be adapted to a fever
which, arising from very different causes, is attend¬
ed with such a variety of symptoms. A mixture of
asafoetida and opium has insome persons seemed singu¬
larly serviceable in this fever, when brought on by a
small wTound; but in most other cases the principal if
not the sole attention of the physician must be employ¬
ed in relieving the symptoms, by tempering the heat,
by preventing both costiveness and purging, by procur¬
ing sleep, and by checking the sweats. It, at the same
time, continues Dr Heberden, he put the body into as
good general health as may be, by air, exercise, and a
proper course of mild diet, be can perhaps do nothing
better than to leave all the zest to nature. In some
few fortunate patients, nature appears to have such re¬
sources, as may afford reason for entertaining hopes of
cure, even in very bad cases. For some have recovered
from this fever attended with every symptom of an
abdominal viscus incurably diseased, after all proba¬
ble methods of relief from art had been tried in vain,
and after the flesh and strength were so exhausted as to
leave scarce any hopes from nature. In those deplora-
O 0 2 ble
292
Phlegma-
siaj.
170
^7*
rjz
M E D I
We circumstances, there has arisen a swelling not far
from the probable seat of the disorder, and yet without
any discoverable communication with it. This swelling
has come to an abscess; in consequence ol which the
pulse has soon returned to its natural state, as have also
the appetite, flesh, and strength. What nature has per¬
formed in those rare cases, Dr Heberden acquaints us,
he has often endeavoured to imitate, by making issues
or applying blisters near the seat ol the disease j but he
cannot say with the same success.
It seems at present, Dr Heberden observes, to be
the opinion of many practitioners, that gangrenes will
be stopped, and suppuration become more kindly, by
the use of Peruvian bark } and therefore tins remedy
is always either advised or permitted in the irregular
fever joined with suppurations and gangrenes. But he
affirms he does not remember ever to have seen any
good effect from cinchona in this fever unattended with
an apparent ulcer j and even in gangrenes it so often
fails, that in successful cases, where it has been admi¬
nistered, there must be room for suspicion that the suc¬
cess was owing to another cause. Dr Heberden ac¬
knowledges, at the same time, that he never saw any
harm from cinchona, in these, or indeed in any other
cases, except a slight temporary purging or sickness,
where it has happened to disagree with the stomach,
or where the latter has been loaded by taking the me¬
dicine too fast, especially in dry boluses wrapped in
wafer-paper.
In hectic illnesses, where all other means have proved
ineffectual, a journey to Bath is usually proposed by
the friends, and wished for by the sick •, but Dr He¬
berden justly observes, that, besides the fatigue and
many inconveniences of a journey to a dying person,
the Bath waters are peculiarly hurtful in this fever,
which they never fail to increase, and thereby aggra¬
vate the sufferings and hasten the death of the pa¬
tient.
Order II. PHLEGMASIA.
Phlegmasiae membranosse et parenchymatosce, Sauv*
(lass III. Ord. I. II. Sag. 6oj.
Morbi febriles phlogistic!, Lin. Class III.
Febres continuae compositae inflammatoriae, lrog.
Morbi acuti febriles, Boerh. 770.
Febres inflammatoriae, Hoffni. II. 105. Junck. 61.
The phlegmasiae, or topical inflammations, are a
very numerous assemblage of diseases. Their great
characteristics are, the general symptoms of fever, and
a topical inflammation, attended with the lesion of some
important function. In most instances, when blood is
drawn, it is found upon coagulation to be covered with
a buffy coat. Under this order, many important ge¬
nera are comprehended, each requiring a separate con¬
sideration.
Genus VII. PHLOGOSIS.
Sp. I. Phlogosis fhlegmone.
Phlegmone auctorum, Sauv. gen. 15. Lin. 39. Vog.
351-
Inflammatio, Lin. 231. Boerh. 370. Junck. 20.
This disease is a synocha fever, accompanied with an
CINE. < ( Practic
inflammation of some particular part either external or Phiogos
internal, and consequently it varies very much in its'—
form and the degree of danger attending it, according
to the situation and functions of the part affected with
topical inflammation. To this species, therefore, belong
the following diseases :
Furunculns, Sauv. gen. 18. Vog. 352.
Tereminthus, Vog. 381.
Pupula, JJn. 275. Sauv. p. 6.
Varus, Vog. 436. L.in. 269. Sauv. p. 7.
Bacchia, Lin. 270.
Gutta rosea, Sauv. gen. 4.
Gutta rosacea, Vog. 437*
Hordeolum, Sauv. gen. 27. JAn. 276. Vog. 434.
Otalgia, Sauv. gen. 197. Lin. 44. Vog. 148.
Dolor otalgicus, Hoffni. II. 336.
Parulis, Vog. 362.
Mastodynia, Sauv. gen, 210. log. 153*
Paronychia, Sauv. gen. 21. Lin. 258. i og. 345'
Arlhrocace, Sauv. gen. 78* Lin. 256.
Piedarthrocace, Vog. 419.
Spina ventosa, Boerh. 526.
Phimosis, Sauv. gen. 22. Lin. 297. Vog. 34^'
Paraphimosis, Vog. 349*
For the cure of inflammations, Dr Cullen lays down
the following indications. I. To remove the remote
causes when they are evident and continue to operate.
2. To take off the phlogistic, diathesis aflecting the
whole system, or the particular part. 3. To take off
the spasm of the particular part, by remedies applied to
the whole system, or to the pai't itself.
The means of removing the remote causes will rea¬
dily occur, from considering the particular nature and
circumstances of the different kinds. Acrid matters
must be removed, or their action must be prevented,
by the application of demulcents. Compressing and
overstretching powers must be taken away j and from
their several circumstances, the means ol doing so will
be obvious.
The means of taking off the phlogistic diathesis of
the system are the same with those already mentioned
under the cure for synocha. Ihe means of taking off
the spasm also from the particular part, are much tbe
same with those already mentioned. Only it is to be
remembered, that topical bleedings, such as cupping
with scarifications, applying leeches, &c. are in tins
case much more indicated •, and that some of the other
remedies are to be directed more particularly to the
part affected, as shall be more fully considered when
we treat of those diseases attended with particular in¬
flammations.
When a tendency to suppuration is perceived, the
proper indication is to promote the production of per¬
fect pus as much as possible. For this purpose various
remedies, supposed to possess a specific power, have
been proposed: but it does not appear that any ol them
are possessed of a virtue of this kind } and, in Dr Cul¬
len’s opinion, all that can be done is to favour the
suppuration by such applications as may support a mo¬
derate heat in the part, by some tenacity confine the
perspiration, and by an emollient quality may weaken
the cohesion of the teguments, and favour their erosion.
As all abscesses are occasioned by the effusion of fluids,
and as in the case of certain effusions a suppuration be¬
comes
MEDICI N E.
Pit ice.
plica- cdl,',cs nf)t only unavoidable but • desirable, it may be
si; supposed that most of the means of procuring a resolu-
—^ "“'tion, by diminishing the force of circulation, &c. ought
to be avoided. But as we observe, on the one hand,
that a certain degree of increased impetus, or of the ori¬
ginal symptoms of inflammation, is necessary to produce
a proper suppuration ; so it is then especially necessary
to avoid those means of resolution which may diminish
too much the force of circulation. And on the other
hand, as the impetus of the blood, when violent, is found
to prevent the proper suppuration *, so, in such cases,
though a tendency to suppuration may have begun, it
may he proper to continue those means of resolution
which moderate the force of the circulation. With re¬
spect to the opening of absceses when completely form¬
ed, see the article Surgery.
When an inflammation lias taken a tendency to gan¬
grene, that event is to he prevented by every possible
means; and these must he different according to the
nature of the several causes : hut after a gangrene has
in some degree taken place, it can he cured only by
the separation of the dead from the living parts. This
in certain circumstances can be performed, and most
properly, by the knife. In other cases it can be done
by exciting a suppuratory inflammation on the verge
of the living part, whereby its cohesion with the dead
part may he everywhere broken off, so that the latter
may fall off by itself. While this is doing, it is pro¬
per to prevent the further putrefaction of the part, and
its spreading wider. For this purpose various antisep¬
tic applications have been proposed : but Dr Cullen is
of opinion, that while the teguments are entire, these
applications can hardly have any effect 5 and therefore
that the fundamental procedure must be to scarify the
part so as to reach the living substance, and, by the
wounds made there, to excite the suppuration required.
By the same incisions also we give access to antiseptics,
which may both prevent the progress of the putrefac¬
tion in the dead, and excite the inflammation necessary
on the verge of the living parts.
When the gangrene proceeds from loss of tone* and
when this, communicated to the neighbouring parts,
prevents that inflammation which, as we have said, is
requisite to the separation of the dead parts from the
living, it will be necessary to obviate this loss of tone
by tonic medicines given Internally ; and for this pur¬
pose cinchona has been found to be most effectual.
But when the gangrene arises from the violence of in¬
flammation, the bark may not only fail of pi’oving a
remedy, but may do harm : for its power as a tonic is
especially suited to those cases of gangrene which pro¬
ceed from an original loss of tone, as in the case of palsy
and oedema j or in those cases where a loss of tone takes
place after the original inflammatory symptoms are re^
moved.
On the other hand, Mr Bell is of opinion, that in¬
cisions made with a view'to admit the operation of an¬
tiseptic remedies in gangrenes, as well as the remedies
themselves, must be pernicious from the irritation they
occasion, and from the danger of wounding blood¬
vessels, nerves, or tendons, and also by allowing a free
passage for the putrescent fluids into the parts not
yet affected. And unless they he carried so deep as
|o reach the sound parts, applications of the antiseptic
t* ind can never have any effect in answering the pur¬
pose for which they were intended. The same author
also remarks, that all the advantages commonly obser¬
ved from the great number of applications recommend¬
ed for gangrene, are obtained with more ease, and ge¬
nerally too with more certainty, from the use of some
gentie. stimulating embrocation j which, by exciting a
slight irritation upon the surface,,especially when assist¬
ed by a free use of cinchona, produces for the most part
such a degree of inflammation as is wished for. With
this view he has frequently known a weak solution of
sal ammoniac, a dram of the salt to two ounces of vine¬
gar and six ot water,. form a mixture of very proper
strength for every purpose of this kind. But the degree
of stimulus can easily he either increased or diminished
according to circumstances, by using a larger or smaller
proportion of the salt.
W benever, either by the means recommended, or by
a natural exertion of the system, a slight inflammation
appears between the diseased and sound parts, we may
in general, with tolerable certainty, expect, that in due
time the parts will he separated ; and when a full sup¬
puration is once fairly established, there can be little
doubt that the mortified parts will be soon and easily
removed.
A complete separation being effected, the sore is to
be treated in the manner described under the article
Surgery } with a proper attention, at the same time,
to the support ot the general system by the continuance
ot nourishing diet, and cinchona with such quantities of
wane as may seem necessary.
With regard to the bark, however, it is proper to
take notice of another case of mortification in which it
is likewise unsuccessful, as well as in that attended with
a high degree of inflammation 5 and that is, in those
mortifications of the toes and feet, common in old
people, or which arise from any cause increasing the
rigidity of the vessels to such a degree as to prevent the
motion of the fluids through them. In this case Mr
Pott Iras discovered, that all kinds of warm applications
are very unsuccessful ; but by the free use of opium, to¬
gether with sedatives and relaxants externally applied,
he has frequently seen the tumefaction of the feet and
ankles subside, the skin recover its natural colour, and
all the mortified parts separate in a very short time,
leaving a clean sore. But as to scarifications, or any
other attempt to separate artificially the mortified from
the sound parts, he thinks them very prejudicial, by
giving pain ; which is generally of-itself violent in this
disease, and which seems to have a great share in pro¬
ducing the other evils.
The other terminations of inflammation either do
not admit of any treatment except that of preventing
them by resolution, or properly belong to the article
Surgery.
Sp. II. Phlogosis erythema.
Erythema, Sauv. gen. 11.
Erysipelas auctorum, Vog. 343*
Hieropyr. Fog. 344.
Anthrax, Sauv. gen. 19. Lin. 272. Fog. 353.
Carbo et carbunculus auctorum.
Erythema gangrsenosum, Sauv. sp. 7.
Erythema a frigore.
Erythema pernio, Sauv. sp. 4.
Pernio, Lin. 259. Vog. 350.
Erythema
293
Phlogosis.
1   »
294
Phle^nm-
sire.
M E D I
Erythema amhustio, Sauv. sp. 2.
Erysipelas ambustio, Sanv. sp. 4.
Combustura, Lin. 245.
Combustio, Boerh. 4/6*
Encausis, Log. 34^.
Erythema ab acri alieno applicato.
Erysipelas Sinense, Sauv. sp. 7.
Erythema ab acri inquilino.
Erythema intertrigo, Sauv. sp. 5.
Intertrigo, Lin. 247. log. 502.
Erythema a compressione.
Erythema paratrima, Sauv. sp. 6.
Erythema a punctura, Sauv. sp. 9.
Erysipelas a vespis, Sauv. sp. 19.
Psydracia a vespis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Erythema cum phlegmone.
Erysipelas phlegmonodes auctorum.
Erythema cum cedemate.
Erysipelas symptomaticum, Sauv. sp. 6.
The word erythema does not apply to any primary
disease, but to a great number of those cutaneous in¬
flammations denominated by another general term, viz.
the erysipelas, or “ St Anthony’s fire j” and which be¬
ing commonly symptomatic of some other inflammation
or disorder, are to be removed only by removing the pri¬
mary disease : the erythema is found scarcely to bear
any kind of warm application to itself; and is very apt,
if treated as a primary disease, to terminate in a gan¬
grene of the part affected, or some other disorder still
more dangerous. The difference between the phlegmon
or preceding species, and erythema, according to Dr
Cullen, is, that, in the former, the inflammation seems
particularly to aflect the vessels on the internal surface
of the skin, communicating with the lax adjacent cel¬
lular texture ; whence a more copious effusion, and that
too of serum convertible into pus, takes place. In
the erythema the affection is of the vessels on the ex¬
ternal surface of the skin communicating with the rete
mucosum. This affection does not admit of any effusion
but what separates the cuticle, and gives occasion to the
formation of a blister, while the smaller size of the ves¬
sels admits only of the effusion of a thin fluid very sel¬
dom convertible into pus. For the cure of the fever
attended with erythema or erysipelas, see below ; and
for the external treatment of erythema, see Surgery.
Genus VIII. OPHTHALMIA.
Inflammation of the Byes.
Ophthalmia, Sauv. gen. 196. Lin. 43. Vug. 341,
Sag. 231. Junck. 24.
Chemosis, Vog. 46.
Ophthalmites, Vog. 47.
Infiammatio oculorum, Hoffm. II. 165.
Ophthalmia taraxis, Sauv. sp. 1.
Ophthalmia humida, Sauv. sp. 8.
Ophthalmia chemosis, Sauv. sp. 12.
Ophthalmia erysipelatosa, Sauv. sp. 7.
Ophthalmia pustulosa, Sauv. sp. 6.
Ophthalmia phlyctaenodes, Sauv. sp. 21.
Ophthalmia choroeidea, Sauv. sp. 13.
Ophthalmia tenebricosa, Sauv. sp. ic.
Ophthalmia trachoma, Sauv. sp. 4.
Ophthalmia sicca, Sauv. sp. 5.
CINE. Practk
Ophthalmia angulaiis, Sauv. sp. 14* Opbtb
Ophthalmia tuberculosa, Sauv. sp. 3. mij.
Ophthalmia trichiasis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Ophthalmia cancrosa, Sauv. sp. 15.
Ophthalmia h synechia, Sauv. sp. 16.
Ophthalmia a lagophthalmo, Sauv. 17.
Ophthalmia ab elcomate, Sauv. sp. 18.
Ophthalmia ab ungue, Sauv. sp. 19.
Ophthalmia a cornese fistula, Sauv. sp. 20.
Ophthalmia uvea?, Sauv. sp. 22.
Ophthalmia metastatica, Sauv. sp. 24.
Ophthalmia scrophulosa, Saicv. sp. 9.
Ophthalmia siphylitica, Sauv. sp. n.
Ophthalmia febricosa, Sauv. sp. 23.
From reading this long list of distinctions 'which
authors have invented in the ophthalmia, it is evident,
that by far the greatest part of them are symptomatic,
or merely the consequence of other disorders present
in the habit; and therefore the remedies must be
directed towards the removal of these primary disor¬
ders 5 and when they are gone the ophthalmia will be
removed of course. Dr Cullen observes, that the in¬
flammation of the eye may he considered as of two
kinds} according as it is seated in the membranes of
the ball of the eye, when it is named ophthalmia mem-
hranarum; or as it is seated in the sebaceous glands
placed in the tarsus, or edges of the eyelids, in which
case it may be termed ophthalmia tarsi. These two
kinds are very frequently connected together, as the
one may excite the other 5 but they are still to be di¬
stinguished according as the one or the other may hap¬
pen to be the primary affection.
I. The inflammation of the membranes of the eye af¬
fects especially, and most frequently, the adnata, and
appears in a turgescence of its vessels } so that the red
vessels which are naturally there, become not only in¬
creased in size, but many more appear than in a natural
state. This turgescence of the vessels is attended with
pain, especially upon the motion of the ball of the eye ;
■and this irritation, like every other, applied to the
surface of the eye, produces an eflusion ol tears from
the lachrymal gland.
The inflammation commonly, and chiefly, affects^
the adnata spread on the anterior part of the bulb ot
the eye ; but usually spreads also along the continua¬
tion of the adnata on the inside of the palpebrse *, and
as that is extended on the tarsus palpebrarum, the ex-
cretories of the sebaceous glands opening there are
also frequently affected. When the aftection of the
adnata is considerable, it may be communicated to the
subjacent membranes of the eye, and even to the reti¬
na itself; which thereby acquires so great sensibility,
that every impression of light becomes painful. I be
inflammation of the membranes of the eye is in difler-
ent degrees, according as the adnata is more or less^
affected, or according as the inflammation is either ot
the adnata alone, or of the subjacent membranes also ;
and upon these differences, different species have been
established but they seem all to differ only in degree,
and are to be cured by the same remedies more or less
employed.
The proximate cause of ophthalmia is not different
from that of inflammation in general and the dif¬
ferent circumstances of ophthalmia may be explained
by
pnitice. M E D I
rtjk m- by the tliiTt-rence of its remote causes, and by the dif-
si ferent parts of the eve which it happens to affect $ as
may be understood from what has been already said.
We shall therefore proceed to give an account of the
method of cure.
The great objects to be aimed at in the treatment
of ophthalmia, are, in the first place, the resolution
of the inflammation which has already taken place }
and, secondly, the removal of those consequences which
frequently arise from the inflammation, especially if it
have been of long standing. But besides these, while
it has appeared from former observation, that there is
a peculiar disposition to the disease, practices may often
be successfully employed to combat this disposition, and
thus prevent the return of the affection.
The ophthalmia membranarum requires the reme¬
dies proper for inflammation in general j and when the
i B deeper-seated membranes are affected, and especially
when a pyrexia is present, large general bleedings may
be necessary. But this last is seldom requisite, and,
{ ■ for the most part, the ophthalmia is an affection mere¬
ly local, accompanied with little or no pyrexia. Ge¬
neral bleedings therefore have little effect upon it, and
11 B the cure is chiefly to be obtained by topical bleedings,
that is, blood drawn from the vessels near the inflamed
part j and opening the jugular vein, or the temporal
'■ B artery, may be considered as ia some measure of this
kind. It is commonly sufficient to apply a number of
leeches round the eye ; but it is perhaps still better
to draw blood by cupping and scarifying from the
temples. In many cases, the most effectual remedy
> B is to scarify the internal surface of the inferior eye¬
lid, and to cut the turgid vessels upon the adnata itself.
Besides blood-letting, purging, as a remedy suited
to inflammation in general, has been considered as pe¬
culiarly adapted to inflammation in any part of the
head, and therefore to ophthalmia; and it is sometimes
useful: but, for the reasons given before with respect
to general bleeding, purging in the case of ophthal¬
mia does not prove useful in any proportion to the eva-
caution excited.—For relaxing the spasm in the part,
and taking off the determination of the fluids to it,
blistering near the part has commonly been found use¬
ful. When the inflammation does not yield to the ap¬
plication of blisters after topical bleeding, great bene¬
fit is often obtained by supporting a discharge from
the blistered part, under the form of an issue, by which
means a more permanent determination of blood from
the part is obtained.
It is probably also on the same principle that the
good effects obtained from the use of errhine medicines
in obstinate cases of ophthalmia are to be accounted
for. By these errhines, in particular, which occasion
and support for some time a great discharge from the
nose, great benefit has often been obtained. The
powder of asarabacca, or the infusion of hippocastanum,
snuffed up the nose at bedtime in pi'oper doses, are often
productive of the best effects, when many other reme¬
dies have been tried in vain.
Ophthalmia, as an external inflammation, admits of
topical applications. All those, however, which in¬
crease the heat and relax the vessels of the part, prove
hurtful} and the admission of cool air to the eye, and
the application of cooling and astringent medicines,
CINE.
which at the same time do not produce irritation, prove
useful. Of all these the solution of acetite of lead, as¬
siduously applied, is perhaps the best. In the cure of
this distemper, indeed, all irritation must carefully be
avoided, particularly that of light 5 and the only cer¬
tain means of doing this is by keeping the patient in a
very dark chamber.
2. In the ophthalmia tarsi, the same medicines may he
necessary, as have been already recommended for the
ophthalmia membranarum. However, as the ophthal¬
mia tai’Si may often depend upon an acrimony deposit¬
ed in the sebaceous glands of the part, so it may re¬
quire various internal remedies according to the variety
of the acrimony in fault; for which we must refer to
the consideration of scrophula, siphylis, or other dis¬
eases with which this ophthalmia may be connected *,
and where these shall not be evident, certain remedies
more generally adapted to the evacuation of acrimony,
such as mercury, may be employed. In the ophthal¬
mia tarsi, it almost constantly happens that some ul¬
cerations are formed on the tarsus. These require the
application of mercury and copper, which alone may
sometimes cure the whole affection: and they may he
useful even when the disease depends upon a fault of
the whole system.
Both in the ophthalmia membranarum, and in the
ophthalmia tarsi, it is necessary to obviate that gluing
together of the eyelids which commonly happens in
sleep 5 and which may be done by insinuating a little
of any mild unctuous medicine between the eyelids be¬
fore the patient shall go to sleep.
The slighter kinds of inflammations from the dust
or the sun, may be removed by fomenting with warm
milk and water, adding a small portion of brandy ^
and by anointing the borders of the eyelids with vn-
gnentum tutice, or the like, at night, especially when
those parts are excoriated and sore. But in bad cases,
after the inflammation has yielded a little to evacua¬
tions, the cataplasma aluminis of the London Pharma¬
copoeia spread on lint, and applied at bedtime, has been
found the best external remedy. Before the use of
the latter, the solution of sulphate of zinc is prescribed
with advantage 5 and in violent pains it is of service
to foment frequently with a decoction of white poppy-
heads. One of the most common and most disagree¬
able consequences of ophthalmia, is an offuscation of
the cornea, so far obstructing the passage of light as
to diminish or prevent vision. This is sometimes so
considerable as to admit of removal by operation:
but in slighter cases it may often be removed by the
application of different gentle escharotics ; and in this
way, without the least danger of any inconvenience,
goods effects are often obtained, from gently introdu¬
cing into the eye at bedtime a powder consisting of
equal parts of supertartrite of potass and sugar, reduced
together to a fine powder.
Where there is a disposition to fr/equent returns of
this affection, cinchona is often employed with suc¬
cess in combating it: But nothing in general answers
better than frequent and regular cold bathing of the
295
Ophthal-
eyes.
Besides the various species of ophthalmia which were
before known in Britain, another has lately been intro¬
duced, that contagious ophthalmia, viz. with which the
British
2(j6
Phlegma-
t siai.
?7S
ME D I
British troops were ufleeted in Egypt, and which they
liave imported into tliis island on their return from
thence.
Of this affection many interesting accounts have been
published. Perhaps tbe best is an elaborate treatise by
' Mr Edmonston, who has had many opportunities ot
witnessing the a flection, and extensive practice in the
treatment of the disease, both in Egypt.and in Britain.
To his work therefore wre may refer those who w'ish for
the most full information respecting it. We shall only
observe, that now, no doubt can be entertained respect¬
ing the contagious nature of the disease ; and that
therefore the first great object necessary in the treat¬
ment is the complete separation ot the diseased from the
sound.
Genus IX. PHRENITIS.
Piirensy, or Inflammation of the Brais.
Phrenitis, Sauv. gen. ioi. Lin. 25. Sag. gen. 301.
Boerh. 771. Hofl'm. II. 131. Junck. 63.
* Phrenismus, Bog. 45.
Cephalitis, Sauv. gen, 109. Sag. gen. 310.
• liphacelismus, Lin. 32.
Phrenitis vera, Sauv. sp. 1. Boerh. 771.
Phrenitis idiopathica, Junck. 63.
Cephalalgia inflammatoria, Sauv. sp. 9.
Cephalitis spontanea, Sauv. sp. 3.
Cephalitis siriasis, Sauv. sp. 4.
Siriasis, Vog. 34.
Cephalitis Littriana, Sauv. sp. 5. »
Dr Cullen observes, that the true phrenitis, or in¬
flammation of the membranes or substance of the brain,
is very rare as an original disease : but, as a symptom
of others, much more frequent; of which the following
kinds are enumerated by different authors :
Phrenitis synochi pleux-iticae, Sauv. sp. 2.
Phrenitis synochi sanguinese, Sauv. sp. 4.
Phrenitis calentura, Sauv. sp. 11.
Phrenitis Indica, Sauv. sp. 12.
Cephalitis iEgyptiaca, Sauv. sp. 1.
Cephalitis epidemica anno 1510, Sauv. sp. 6.
Cephalitis verminosa, Sauv. sp.. 7,
Cephalitis cerebelli, Sauv. sp. 8.
Phrenitis miliaris, Sauv. sp, 3.
Phrenitis variolosa, Sauv. sp. 3,
Phrenitis morbillosa, Sauv. sp. 6.
Phrenitis a plica, Sauv. sp. 8.
Phrenitis aphrodisiaca, Sauv. sp. 9.
Phrenitis a tarantismo, Sauv. sp. 14.
Phrenitis hydrophobica, Sauv. s[). 15.
Phrenitis h dolore, Sauv. sp. 13.
Cephalitis traumatica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Description. The signs of an impending phrenitis
are, immoderate and continual watchings j or if any
sleep be obtained, it is disburbed with dreams, and
gives no refreshment} acute and. lasting pains, espe¬
cially in the hind part of the head and neck} little
thirst} a great and slow respiration, as if proceeding
from the bottom of the breast} the pulse sometimes
small and slow, sometimes quick and frequent} a sup¬
pression of urine 5 and forgetfulness. The distemper
when present may be knotvn by the following signs:
CINE.
The veins of the head swell, and the temporal arteries
throb much j the eyes are fixed, sparkle, and have a
fierce aspect 5 the speech is incoherent, and the patient
behaves very roughly to the bystanders, with furious
attempts to get out of bed, not indeed continually, but
returning as it were by paroxysms: the tongue is dry,
rough, yellow, or black 5 there is a coldness of the ex¬
ternal parts ; a proneness to anger j chattering of the
teeth; a trembling of the hands, with which the sick
seem to be gathering something, and actually do gather
the naps off the bed-clothes.
Causes of and persons subject to, this disorder.
People of a hot and bilious habit of body, and such as
are of a passionate disposition, are apt to be affected
with phrenitis. In the same danger are those who make
much use of spices, or are given to hot and spirituous
liquors 5 who have been exposed more than usual to the
sun, or obliged to undergo immoderate studies or watch¬
ings ; who are subject to headachs, or in whom some
customary hemorrhages have been stopped } or the dis¬
ease may arise from some injury offered to the head ex¬
ternally. Sir John Pringle observes, that the phrenitis,
wrhen considered as an original disease, is apt to attack
soldiers in the summer season when they are exposed
to the heat of the sun, and especially when asleep and
in liquor. A symptomatic phrenitis is also more fre¬
quent in the army than elsewhere, on account of the
violence done to all fevers when the sick are carried in
waggons from the-camp to the hospital, where the very
noise or light alone would be sufficient, with more de¬
licate natures, to. raise a phrensy. From these and si-
.milar causes, a state of active inflammation, affecting
. some, parts within the cranium, is produced: and there
can be-no.doubt, that from this all the symptoms of the
disease arise, and particularly that peculiar delirium
which characterizes it. But in what manner local dis¬
eases, even of the .brain, itself, produce aftections of the
mind, we are still totally in.the dark.
Prognosis. Every kind of phrenitis, whether idio¬
pathic or symptomatic, is attended with a high degree
of danger ; and, unless removed before the fourth day,
a gangrene or sphacelus of the meninges readily takes
place, and the patient dies delirious. The following
are the most fatal symptoms: A continual and furious
delirium, with watching; thin watery urine, white
' faeces, the urine and stools, running off involuntarily,
or a total suppression of these excretions j a ready dis¬
position to become stupid, or to faint •, trembling, ri¬
gor, chattering of the teeth, convulsions, hiccough,
coldness of the extremities, trembling of the tongue,
shrill voice, a sudden cessation of pain, with apparent
tranquillity. ’The following are favourable : Sweats,
apparently critical, breaking out j a seeming eftort ol
nature to terminate the disease by a diarrhoea } a large
hemorrhagy from the nose ; swellings of the glands be-
1 hind the ears j haemorrhoids.
Cure. From what has been said of the theory Ot
this disease, the cure must entirely depend on obtaining
_ a resolution.of the inflammation. The objects chiefly
to be aimed at with this view are, 1. The removal of
such exciting causes as continue to operate. 2. The
, diminution of the momentum of the blood in the cir¬
culating system in general. 3. The diminution ol
impetus at the brain in particular: and, 4. The avoid¬
ing
IVcnitj;
Prbtice. MEDICINE.
ph|ma- ing circumstances which tend either to accelerate the
M:. motion of the blood or to give determination to the
l— head.
Different practices may be used with these inten¬
tions ; but the most powerful remedies are to be im¬
mediately employed. Large and repeated bleedings
are especially necessary $ and these too taken from
vessels as near as possible to the part affected. The
opening the temporal artery has been recommended,
and with some reason: but as the practice is attended
with inconveniences, perhaps the opening of the ju¬
gular veins may in general prove more effectual; with
which, however, may be joined the drawing of blood
from the temples by cupping and scarifying. It is also
probable, that purging may be of more use in this than
in some other inflammatory affections, as it may ope¬
rate by revulsion. For the same purpose of revulsion,
warm pediluvia are a remedy, but rather ambiguous.
The taking oft' the force of the blood in the vessels of
the head by an erect posture is generally useful. Bli¬
stering is also useful, but chiefly when applied near to
the part affected. In short, every part of the antiphlo¬
gistic regimen is here necessary, and particularly the
admission of cold air. Even cold substances applied
to the head have been found useful *, and the applica¬
tion of such refrigerants as vinegar is certainly proper.
Opiates are thought to be hurtful in every inflammatory
state of the brain. On the whole, however, it must be
remarked, that practitioners are very uncertain with re¬
gard to the means proper to be used in this disease 5 and
the more so, that the symptoms by which the disease is
commonly judged to be present, appear sometimes
without any internal inflammation } and on the other
hand, dissections have shown that the brain has been
inflamed, where few ol the peculiar symptoms of inflam¬
mation had appeared before death.
Genus X. CYNANCHE.
6
Cynanche, Sauv. gen. no. Lin. 33. Sag. gen. 300.
Angina, Vog. 49. Hoffm. II. 125. Junck. 30.
Angina inflammatoria, Boerh. 798.
Sp. I. Cynanche tonsillaris.
7 The Inflammatory Quinsy.
Cynanche tonsillaris, Sauv. sp. 1.
Angina inflammatoria, sp. 5. Boerh. 805.
Description. This is an inflammation of the mucous
membrane of the fauces, affecting principally that con¬
geries of mucous follicles which forms the tonsils j and
irom thence spreading along the velum and uvula, so
as frequently to affect every part of the mucous mem¬
brane. The disease appears by some tumour and redness
ot the parts } is attended with a painful and difficult
deglutition j a troublesome clamminess of the mouth
and throat; a frequent but difficult excretion of mu¬
cus •, and the whole is accompanied with pyrexia. The
inflammation and tumour are commonly at first most
considerable in one tonsil j and afterwards, abating in
that, increase in the other. This disease is not con¬
tagious.
Causes of, and persons subject to, this disorder. This
disease is commonly occasioned by cold externally ap¬
plied, particularly about the neck. It affects especially
the young and sanguine ; and a disposition to it is often
Vol, XIII. Part I.
acquired by habit. It occurs especially in the spring
and autumn, when vicissitudes of heat and cold fre¬
quently take place.
Prognosis. Ibis species of cynanche terminates fre¬
quently by resolution, sometimes by suppuration, but
hardly ever by gangrene j though in some cases sloughy
spots appear on the fauces : the prognosis therefore is
generally favourable.
Cure. As the principal morbid affection in this
disease, on which all its characterising symptoms im¬
mediately depend, is the active inflammation in the
tonsils and neighbouring parts, the object first and
principally to be aimed at in the cure is to obtain a
resolution of this inflammation. Sometimes, however,
it is necessary to have recourse to practices, with the
view of obviating urgent symptoms before a resolution
can be effected : and in other cases, where a resolution
cannot be obtained, it must be the aim of the practi¬
tioner to promote a speedy and favourable suppuration.
Alter suppuration has taken place, the proper means
of promoting a discharge of the purulent matter will
conclude the cure. Here some bleeding may be ne¬
cessary 5 but large and general evacuations are seldom
beneficial. The opening of the ranular veins is an in¬
significant remedy, according to Dr Cullen, but is recom¬
mended as efficacious by Sir John Pringle: more benefit,
however, may in general be derived from leeches to the
external fauces. The inflammation may be often reliev¬
ed by moderate astringents, and particularly by acids
applied to the parts affected. In many cases, nothing
has been found to give more relief than the vapour of
warm water received into the fauces.
Besides these, blistering, and still more frequently
rubefacient medicines, are applied with success, as well
as antiphlogistic purgatives ; and every part of the an¬
tiphlogistic regimen is to be observed, except the ap¬
plication of cold. Sir John Pringle recommends a
thick piece of flannel moistened with two parts of
common sweet oil, and one of spirit of hartshorn (or
in a larger proportion, if the skin will bear it), to be ap¬
plied to the throat, and renewed once every four or five
hours. By this means the neck, and sometimes the
whole body, is put into a sweat, which after bleeding
either carries off or lessens the inflammation. When
the disease has a tendency to suppuration, nothing
will be more useful than receiving into the fauces the
steams of warm water. Benefit is also obtained from
poultices applied to the external fauces. When the
abscess is attended with much swelling, if it break not
spontaneously, it ought to be opened by a lancet j and
this does not require much caution, as even the in¬
flammatory state may be relieved by some scarification
of the tonsils. When this disease runs very rapidly to
such a height as to threaten suffocation, it is sometimes
necessary to have recourse to bronchotomy as the only
means of saving the life of the patient. But there is
reason to believe that this operation has sometimes been
employed where it was not necessary : and we may
safely venture to say, that it is but seldom requisite }
insomuch that Dr Cullen tells us, he has never in his
practice seen any case requiring bronchotomy.
Sp. II. Cynanche maligna.
The malignant,putrid, or ideerous Sore Throat.
Cynanche maligna, Sauv. sp, 3.
t f P
297
Cynanche.
178
-Cynanche
M E D I
Cynanche uleerosa, Sauv. var. a. Journ. de Med.
Cynanche gangrsenosa, Sauv. var. b. Journ. de Med.
Ulcera faucium et gutturis anginosa etlethalia, Hxs-
panis Garrotillo, Lud. Mercat. consult. 24.
Angina ulcerosa, FothergilPs Account of the ulce¬
rous sore throat, edit. 1751 • Huxliann on the ma¬
lignant ulcerous sore throat, from 1751 to 1753-
Febris epidemica cum angina ulcusculosa, Douglas's
Practical History, Boston, 1736.
Angina epidemica, Russel, Oecon. Natur. p. I05*
Angina gangrsenosa, IF1tthcring's Dissert. Inaug. E-
dinb. 1766. . tvt v 1
Angina suftocativa, Bard's Inquiry, New York,
177I* -n
Angina maligna, Johnstone oxi the malignant Angina,
Worcester, 1779*
History and Description. This distemper is not par¬
ticularly described by the ancient physicians; though
perhaps the Syrian and Egyptian ulcers mentioned by
Aretaeus Cappadox, and the pestilent ulcerated tonsils
we read of in Aetius Amideus, were of this nature.
Some of the scarlet fevers mentioned by Morton seem
also to have approached near to it. In the beginning
of the last century, a disease exactly similar to this is
described by the physicians of that time, as raging with
great violence and mortality in Spain and some parts of
Italy, but no account of it was published in this coun¬
try till the year 1748, when a very accurate one was
drawn up by Dr Fothergill, and in 1752 -^r Mux-
liam. The latter observes, that this disease was prece¬
ded by long, cold, and wet seasons 5 by which probably
the bodies of people were debilitated, and more apt to
receive contagion, which possibly also might be produced
by the stagnant and putrid waters.
The attack of this disease was very different in dif¬
ferent persons. Sometimes a rigor, with fulness and
soreness of the throat, and painful stiffness of the neck,
were the first symptoms complained of. Sometimes
alternate chills and heats, with some degree of giddi¬
ness, drowsiness, or headach, ushered in the distemper.
It seized others with more severe feverish symptoms;
great pain of the head, back, and limbs j a vast op¬
pression of the praecordia, and continual sighing. Some
grown persons went about for days in a drooping
state, with much uneasiness and anxiety, till at last they
were obliged to take to their beds.—Thus various was
the disease, says Dr Huxham, at the onset. But it com¬
monly began with chills and heats, load and pain of
the head, soreness of throat, and hoarseness; some
cough, sickness at stomach, frequent vomiting and
purging, in children especially, which were sometimes
very severe ; though a contrary state was more com¬
mon to the adult. There was in all a very great de¬
jection of spirits, very sudden weakness, great heavi¬
ness on the breast; and faintness, from the very begin¬
ning. The pulse in general was quick, small, and
fluttering, though sometimes heavy and undulating.
The urine was commonly pale, thin, and crude j how¬
ever, in many grown persons, it was passed in small
quantities and high coloured, or like turbid whey.
The eyes were heavy, reddish, and as it were weeping;
CINE. Practict
the countenance very often full, flushed, and bloated, Cynancli
though sometimes pale and sunk. . v—
How slight soever the disorder might appear in the
day-time, at night the symptoms became greatly ag¬
gravated, and the feverish habit very much increased,
nay, sometimes a delirium occurred on the very first
night j and this exacerbation constantly returned through
the whole course of the disease. Indeed, when it was
considerably on the decline, our author says he has been
often pretty much surprised to find his patient had pas¬
sed the whole night in a phrensy, whom he had left to¬
lerably cool and sedate in the day.
Some few hours after the seizure, and sometimes
cotemporary with it, a swelling and soreness of the
throat was perceived, and the tonsils became very
tumid and inflamed, and many times the parotid and
maxillary glands swelled very much, and very sud¬
denly, even at the very beginning *, sometimes so
much as even to threaten strangulation. The fauces
also very soon appeared of a high florid red, or rather
of a bright crimson, colour, very shining and glossy;
and most commonly on the uvula, tonsils, velum pa-
latinum, and back part of the pharynx, several whitish
or ash-coloured spots appeared scattered up and down,
which oftentimes increased very fast, and soon covered
one or both the tonsils, uvula, &c.: those in the event
proved sloughs of superficial ulcers (which sometimes,
however, ate very deep into the parts). I he tongue
at this time, though only white and moist at the tip,
was very foul at the root, and covered with a thick,
yellowish or brown coat. The breath also now be¬
gan to be very nauseous: which offensive smell in¬
creased hourly, and in some became at length intole¬
rable, and that too sometimes even to the patients them¬
selves.
The second or third day every symptom became
much more aggravated, and the fever much more con¬
siderable •, and those that had struggled with it tole¬
rably well for 30 or 40 hours, were forced to submit.
The restlessness and anxiety greatly increased, as well
as the difficulty in swallowing. The head was very
giddy, pained, and loaded ; there was generally more
or less of a delirium 5 sometimes a pervigilium and per¬
petual phrensy, though others lay very stupid, but
often starting and muttering to themselves. The skin
was very hot, dry, and rough } there was very rarely
any disposition to sweat. The urine was pale, thin,
crude; often yellowish and turbid. Sometimes vo¬
miting was urgent, and sometimes a very great loose¬
ness, in children particularly. The sloughs were now
much enlarged, and of a darker colour; and the sur¬
rounding parts tended much more to a livid hue. The
breathing became much more difficult j with a kind
of a rattling stertor, as if the patient was actually
strangling, the voice being exceeding hoarse and hol¬
low, exactly resembling that from venereal ulcers in
the fauces: this noise in speaking and breathing was
so peculiar, that any person in the least conversant with
the disease might easily know it by this odd noise j
from whence indeed the Spanish physicians gave it the
name of garrotillo, expressing the noise made by persons
when they are strangled with a rope. Dr 1 othergiU
never observed in one of them the shrill barking nr^e
that we frequently hear in inflammatory cynanche. Ine
Pn tice.
rti na- breath of all the diseased was very nauseous j of some
j. insufferably fetid, especially in the advance of the di-
u— —^ stemper to a crisis j and many about the fourth or fifth
day spit off a vast quantity of stinking purulent mucus
tinged sometimes with blood: and sometimes the mat¬
ter was quite livid, and of an abominable smell. The
nostrils likewise in many were greatly inflamed and ex¬
coriated, continually dripping down a very sharp ichor
or sanious matter, so excessively acrid, that it not only
corroded the lips, cheeks, and hands of the children
that laboured under the disease, but even the fingers
and arms of the very nurses that attended them : as
this ulceration of the nostrils came on, it commonly
caused an almost incessant sneezing in the children 5
but few adults were affected with it, at least to any
considerable degree. It was surprising what quantities
of matter some children discharged this way, which
they would often rub on their face, hands, and arms,
and blister them all over. A sudden stoppage of this
rheum from the mouth and nostrils actually choaked
several children; and some swallowed such quantities
of it, as occasioned excoriations of the intestines, vio¬
lent gripings, dysentery, &c. nay, even excoriations
of the anus and buttocks. Not only the nostrils, fau¬
ces, &c. were greatly affected by the extremely sharp
matter, but the wind-pipe itself was sometimes much
corroded by it, and pieces of its internal membrane
were spit up, with much blood and corruption j and
the patients lingered on for a considerable time, and
at length died tabid; though there were more frequent
instances of its falling suddenly and violently on the
lungs, and killing in a peripneumonic manner.
I)r Huxham was astonished sometimes to see several
swallow with tolerable ease, though the tumour of the
tonsils and throat, the quantity of thick mucus, and the
rattling noise in breathing, were very terrible; which
he thinks pretty clearly shows, that this malignant
angina was more from the acrimony and abundance
of the humours than the violence of the inflammation.
Most commonly the angina came on before the ex¬
anthemata } but many times the cuticular eruption
appeared before the sore-throat, and was sometimes
very considerable, though there was little or no pain
in the fauces: on the contrary, a very severe angina
seized some patients that had no manner of eruption j
and yet, even in these cases, a very great itching and
desquamation of the skin sometimes ensued j but this
was chiefly in grown persons, very rarely in children.
In general, however, a very considerable efflorescence
broke out on the surface of the body, particularly in
children} and it most commonly happened the second,
third, or fourth day : sometimes it was partial, some¬
times it covered almost the whole body, though very
seldom the face: sometimes it was of an erysipela¬
tous kind j sometimes more pustular: the pustules
frequently eminent, and of a deep fiery red co¬
lour, particularly on the breast and arms ; but often¬
times they were very small, and might be better felt
than seen, and gave a very odd kind of roughness to
the skin. The colour of the efflorescence was com¬
monly of a crimson hue, or as if the skin had been
smeared over with juice of raspberries, and this even to
the fingers ends j and the skin appeared inflamed and
swollen, as it were; the arms, hands, and fingers, were
often evidently so, and very stiff, and somewhat pain-
299
ful. This crimson colour of the skin seemed indeed Cynanche.
peculiar to this disease. Though the eruption seldom v ■
failed of giving some manifest relief to the patient, as
to anxiety, sickness at stomach, vomiting, purging,
&c. yet there was observed an universal fiery eruption
on some persons, without the least abatement of the
symptoms, nay almost every symptom seemed more ag¬
gravated, particularly the fever, load at breast, anxiety,
and delirium j Dr Huxham knew more than one or two
patients die in the most raging phrensy, covered with
the most universal fiery rash he ever saw : so that, as in
the highly confluent smallpox, it seemed only to de¬
note the quantity of the disease, as he terms it.
He had under his care a young gentleman, about
12 years of age, whose tongue, fauces, and ton¬
sils, were as black as ink, and he swallowed with ex¬
treme difficulty j he continually spit off immense quan¬
tities of a black, sanious, and veiy fetid matter, for
at least eight or ten days:—about the seventh day, his
fever being somewhat abated, he fell into a bloody
dysentery, though the bloody, sanious, fetid expec¬
toration still continued, with a most violent cough.
He at length indeed got over it, to the very great
surprise of every one that saw him. Now, in this pa¬
tient, a severe and universal rash broke out upon
the second and third day; and the itching of his
skin was so intolerable, that he tore it all over his
body in a most shocking manner j yet this very
great and timely eruption very little relieved his fever
and phrensy, or prevented the other dreadful sym-
toms mentioned.
An early and kindly eruption, however, was most
commonly a very good omen j and, when succeeded by
a very copious desquamation of the cuticle, one of the
most favourable symptoms that occurred : but when the
eruption turned of a dusky or livid colour, or prema¬
turely or suddenly receded, every symptom grew
worse, and the utmost danger impended, especially
if purple or black spots appeared up and down, as
sometimes happened j the urine grew limpid, and con¬
vulsions came on, or a fatal suffocation soon closed the
tragedy.
The disease wras generally at the height about the
fifth or sixth day in young persons, in the elder not
so soon j and the crisis many times was not till the
nth or 12th, and then very imperfect j some adults
however, were carried off in two or three days ;
the distemper either falling on the lungs, and killing
in a peripneumonic manner ; or on the brain, in which
case the patient either died raving or comatose. In
some, the disease brought on a very troublesome cough,
purulent expectoration, haemoptoe, and hectic fever ; i»
which thev lingered on fox* several weeks, and then died
tabid.
If a gentle easy sweat took place on the third or fourth
day ; if the pulse became more slow, fii'm, and equal j
if the sloughs of the fauces cast oil in a kindly manner,
and appeared at the bottom tolerably clean and florid j
if the breathing was moi*e soit and free, and some de¬
gree of vigour and quickness returned in the eyes j all
was well, and a salutary crisis followed soon by a con¬
tinuance of the sweat, and a turbid, subsiding, farina¬
ceous urine, a plentiful expectoration, and a veiy laige
desquamation of the cuticle. But if a rigor came on,
and the exanthemata suddenly disappeared or turned
T p 2 livid;
MEDICINE.
300
I’hlegma-
M E D I C I N E.
Practice
livid ; if tlie pulse grew very small and quick, and the
skin remained hot and parched as it were, the breath¬
ing more difficult, the eyes dead and glassy, the urine
pale and limpid, a phrensy or coma succeeded, with
a coldish clammy sweat on the face or extremities; life
was despaired of, especially if a singultus and choaking
or gulping in the throat attended, with sudden, liquid,
involuntary, livid stools, intolerably fetid. In some
few patients, Dr Huxham observed, some time before
the fatal period, not only the face bloated, sallow, shin¬
ing and greasy as it were, but the Avhole neck very much
swollen, and of a cadaverous look ; and even the whole
body became in some degree oedematous j and the im¬
pression of a finger Avould remain fixed in a part, the skin
not rising again as usual; an indication that the blood
stagnated in the capillaries, and that the elasticity of
the fibres was quite lost.
Medical writers are still much divided in opinion,
whether the cynanche maligna is to be considered as
the same disease with the scarlatina anginosa, after-
wards to be treated of, or not. This question will
afterwards come to be more fully discussed. At pre¬
sent we may only observe, that although ulcerous sore
throats of a malignant nature often appear spoi'adical-
ly, yet that the disease above described appears only
as an epidemic, and is always the consequence of con¬
tagion.
We have, therefore, no doubt that the cynanche ma¬
ligna of Huxham, Fothergill, and Cullen, is precisely
the same disease with the scarlatina anginosaof Sauvage,
Withering, and other late writers. This is abundantly
demonstrated by the diversities which take place in the
appearance of the disease among childi’en of the same
family during the same epidemic.
Prognosis. This may be easily gathered from the
above description. The malignant and putrid tendency
of the disease is evident, and an increase of the symp¬
toms which arise from that putrescent disposition of the
body must give an unfavourable prognostic. On the
contrary, a decrease of these, and an apparent increase
of the vis vitce, are favourable: in general, what is
observed to be favourable in the nervous and putrid
malignant fevers, is also favourable in this, and vice
versa.
Causes. Since the accurate accounts given by Dr
Fothergill and Huxham of the epidemics which pre¬
vailed about 50 years ago, this disease has frequently
been observed at times epidemic in almost every differ¬
ent part of Britain. Like smallpox, measles, and chin-
cough, it seems in every case to be the effect of a pe¬
culiar and specific contagion. It has been observed
to prevail, equally generally in every situation, and at
every season j and on exposure to the contagion, no
age, sex, or condition, is exempted from it. But the
having once had the disease, seems in this affection to
afford the same security against future contagion as in
the smallpox: at least instances, where it can be said
that the same individual has been twice affected with
it, are both very rare and very doubtful, as well as in
smallpox.
Cui'c. Like other febrile contagions, the malig¬
nant ulcerous sore throat is terminated only by a na¬
tural course •, and the chief business of the practi¬
tioner is to combat unfavourable occurrences. In
this the septic tendency of the disease is chiefly to
4
be kept in view. The debility with which it is at- Cvnancli
tended renders all evacuations by bleeding and pur-
ging improper, except in a few instances where the
debility is less, and the inflammatory symptoms more
considerable. The fauces are to be preserved from the
effects of the acrid matter poured out upon them, ami
are therefore to be frequently washed out by antiseptic
gargles or injections ; and the putrescent state of the
whole system should be guarded against and corrected
by internal antiseptics, especially by the Peruvian bark
given in the beginning and continued through the
course of the disease. Great benefit is also often de¬
rived from the liberal use of the mineral acids. Both
the sulphuric and muriatic, in a state of proper dilution,
have been highly extolled by different medical writers,
and are productive of the best effects in actual practice,
when they can be introduced to a sufficient extent.
In particular, the oxygenated muriatic acid, as recom¬
mended by Mr Braithwaite, has been found productive
of the greatest advantages. Emetics, both by vomit¬
ing and nauseating, prove useful. When any conside¬
rable tumor occurs, blisters applied externally will be
of service, and in any case may be proper to moderate
the inflammation.
Very lately, the internal use of the capsicum annuum,
or Cayenne pepper, as it is commonly called, has been
highly celebrated in this affection ; and it is particular¬
ly said to have been employed with singular success in
the West Indies.
But of all the remedies lately proposed, none has
been more highly extolled than the external use of cold
water. It has even been contended by some that by
dashing cold water on the surface of the body, an im¬
mediate artificial cure of this disease may be obtained.
We are, however, fully persuaded, that cold water will
no more destroy the contagion of this disease than of
smallpox •, and we cannot help thinking that the prac¬
tice is seldom necessary, and sometimes hurtful.
Sp. III. Cynanche trachealis. I79
The Croup.
Cynanche trachealis, Sam), sp. 5.
Cynanche laryngea auctorum, Eller de cogn. et cu-
rand. morb. sect. 7.
Anginae inflammatoriae, sp. 1. Boerh. 801.
Angina latens et difficilis, Dodon. obs. 18.
Angina interna, Tidp. 1. 1. obs. 51.
Angina perniciosa, Greg. Horst. Obs. 1. iii. obs. 1.
Suffbcatio stridula, Home on the Croup.
Asthma infantum, Millar on the Asthma and Chin-
cough.
Asthma infantum spasmodicum, Bush, Dissertation,
Lond. 1770.
Cynanche stridula, Crawford Dissert. Inaug. Edin.
177I-
Angina epidemica anno 1743. Molloy apud Rutty s
History of the weather.
Morbus strangulatorius, Starr, Phil. Trans. N° 495’
Morbus truculentus infantum,FVcwco/iad Viadrum
et in vicinia grassans ann. 1758. C. S Bergen.
A nova. N. C. tom. ii. p. T57.
Catarrhus siiftocativus Barbadensis ann. I 7 <8. HU"
lanfs Diseases of Barbadoes,
Angina
.ice. M E D I
Angina inflammatoria infantum, Russel, Oecon. nat.
' p. 7C-
—' Angina polyposa sive membranacea MicAeatis. Ar-
gentorati 1778, et auctores ab eo allegati.
The best description of this disease we have in Dr
Cullen’s Practice of Physic. He informs us, that it
consists in an inflammation of the glottis, larynx, or
upper part of the trachea, whether it affect the mem¬
branes of these parts or the muscles adjoining. It
may arise first in these parts, and continue to subsist in
them alone } or it may come to affect these parts from
the cynanche tonsillaris, or maligna, spreading into
them.
In either way it has been a rare occurrence, and few
instances of it have been marked and recorded by phy¬
sicians. It is to be known by a peculiar croaking sound
of the voice, by difficult respiration, with a sense of
straitening about the larynx, and by a pyrexia attend¬
ing it. ,
From the nature of these symptoms, and from the
dissection of the bodies of persons who died of this dis¬
ease, there is no doubt of its being of an inflammatory
kind. It does not, however, always run the. course of
inflammatory affections j but frequently produces such
’an obstruction of the passage of the air, as suffocates,
and thereby proves suddenly fatal.
It particularly proves fatal, in consequence of the
trachea being obstructed by a membranous substance
lining the inside of it, and very nearly approaching in
appearance to the inflammatory exudation often dis¬
covered on the intestinal canal in those dying of en¬
teritis.
If we judge rightly of the nature of this disease,
it will be obvious, that the cure of it requires the
most powerful remedies of inflammation to be em¬
ployed upon the very first appearance ol the symptoms.
When a suffocation is threatened, whether any reme¬
dies can be employed to prevent it, is not yet deter¬
mined by sufficient experience : but it is evident, that
in certain cases the life of the patient can be preserved
only by the removal of that matter which obstructs the
passage of air through the trachea.
The accounts which books have hitherto given us
of inflammations of the larynx, and the parts connect¬
ed with it, amount to what we have now said 5 and
many instances are recorded of the disease happening
in adult persons: but there is a peculiar affection
of this kind happening to infants, which has been lit¬
tle taken notice of till lately. Dr Francis Home is the
first who has given any distinct account of this disease ;
but, since he wrote, several other authors have taken
notice of it, and have given different opinions concern¬
ing it.
This disease 3$ldom attacks infants till after they
have been weaned. After this period, the younger
they are, the more liable they are to the disease. The
frequency of it becomes less as children become more
advanced ; and there are few instances of children ar
hove 12 years «f age being affected with it. It attacks
children of the midland countries, as well as those
who live near the sea; but it occurs much more fre¬
quently at certain places than at others. It does not
appear to be contagious ; and its attacks are fre¬
quently repeated in the same child. It is oiten ma-
C I N E. 301
nifestly the effect of cold applied to the body} and Cynanche.
therefore appears most frequently in the winter and * - v~" ■■■*
spring seasons. It very commonly comes on with the
ordinary symptoms of a catarrh 5 but sometimes the
peculiar symptoms of the disease show themselves at the
very first.
These peculiar symptoms are the following: A
hoarseness, with some shrillness and ringing sound,
both in speaking and coughing, as if the noise came
from a brazen tube. At the same time, there is a
sense of pain about the larynx, some difficulty of re¬
spiration, W'ith a whizzing sound in inspiration, as if
the passage of the air were straitened. The cough
which attends it, is commonly dry j and if any thing
be spit up, it is matter of a purulent appearance, and
sometimes films resembling portions of a membrane.
With all these symptoms, there is a frequency of
pulse, a restlessness, and an uneasy sense of heat.
When the internal fauces are viewed, they are some¬
times without any appearance of inflammation , but
frequently a x’edness, and even swelling, appears j and
sometimes there is an appearance of matter like to
that rejected by coughing, together with the symp¬
toms now described, and particularly with great dif¬
ficulty of breathing, and a sense of strangling in the
fauces, by which the patient is sometimes suddenly
taken off.
Many dissections have been made of infants wrho
had died of this disease, and almost constantly there
has appeared a preternatural substance, apparently
membranous, lining the whole internal surface of the
upper part of the trachea, and extending in the same
manner downwards into some of its ramifications.
This preternatural membrane may be easily separated,
and sometimes has been found separated in part from
the subjacent proper membrane of the trachea. Ihis
last is commonly found entire, that is, without any
appearance of erosion or ulceration ; but it frequently
shows the vestiges of inflammation, and is covered
by a matter resembling pus, like to that rejected by
coughing ‘y and very often a matter ot the same kind
is found in the bronchia;, sometimes in considerable
quantity.
From the remote causes of this disease j from the
catarrhal symptoms commonly attending it j from the
pyrexia constantly present with it} from the same
kind of preternatural membrane being found in the
trachea when the cynanche maligna is communicated
to it ; and from the vestiges of inflammation on the
trachea discovered upon dissection •, we must conclude,
that this disease consists in an inflammatory affection
of the mucous membrane of the larynx and trachea,
producing an exudation analogous to that found on
the surface of inflamed viscera, and appearing partly
in a membranous crust, and partly in a fluid form re¬
sembling pus.
Though this disease consists in an inflammatory af¬
fection, ^it does not commonly end either in suppuration
or gangrene. The most troublesome circumstance of it
seems to consist in a spasm of the muscles of the glottis,
threatening suffocation. _ .
When this disease terminates m health, it is by ic-
solution of the inflammation, by ceasing of the spasm
of the glottis, by an expectoration of the matter ex¬
uding "from the trachea, and of the crusts formed
6 there,
3°2
Phlegma¬
sia;.
T.So
MEDICINE. Practice,
tliere, and frequently it ends without any expectora¬
tion, or at least with such only as attends an ordinary
catarrh. But in some instances, a salutary termination
has very speedily taken place, in consequence of the
discharge of the membranous substance from the tra¬
chea, even under its proper tubular form.
When the disease ends fatally, it is by a suffocation
seemingly depending upon a spasm affecting the glot¬
tis } but sometimes, probably, depending on a quantity
of matter filling the bronchise or obstructing the tra-
chea.
As we suppose the disease to be an inflammatory af¬
fection, so we attempt the cure of it by the usual re¬
medies of inflammation. Bleeding, both general and
topical, has often given immediate relief, and, by be¬
ing repeated, has entirely cured the disease. Blister¬
ing also, near the part affected, has been found use¬
ful. Upon the first attack of the disease, vomiting,
immediately after bleeding, seems to be of consider¬
able use, and sometimes suddenly removes the disease.
But emetics are still more usefol in advanced periods.
By the employment of these, the matter obstructing
the trachea, and inducing spasmodic affections, has of¬
ten been successfully removed, when the situation of
the patient seemed to be almost desperate. And as in
the progress of the disease fresh effusions of this matter
are very apt to take place, the frequent repetition of
emetics becomes necessary. It is often necessary to
have recourse to those operating the most expeditiously,
such as sulphate of zinc even-in large doses. In every
stage of the disease, the antiphlogistic regimen is ne¬
cessary, and particularly the frequent use of laxative
glysters. Some practitioners consider mercury, parti¬
cularly under the form of calomel, as an almost infalli¬
ble remedy in this disease. It has particularly been
extolled by Mr James Anderson, an eminent surgeon
in Edinburgh. But we are sorry to say that in some
cases at least, after the fairest trial, it has been found
to fail. Though we suppose that a spasm affecting the
glottis is often fatal in this disease, antispasmodic medi¬
cines have not in general been found of great service.
Some, however, have strongly recommended the use of
asafcetida under the form of injection others place
great confidence in oil or oily mixtures, taken by the
mouth} but more immediate benefit is derived from
tepid bathing, and the employment of sulphuric ether,
both externally and internally.
By these, when the disease is spasmodic, it is often
successfully removed. But by much the most danger¬
ous form of the disease is the inflammatory state giv¬
ing the exudation. And when this inflammatory exuda¬
tion has even been removed from the upper part of the
trachea, yet it has sometimes proved fatal from the in¬
flammation and exudation extending to the branches of
the aspera arteria. By such an occurrence the writer
of the present article had the misfortune to lose a fa¬
vourite son j an amiable youth, in the fourteenth year
of his age, who was highly admired and sincerely re¬
gretted by all to whom he was known.
Sp. IV. Cynanche pharyngea.
Cynanche pharyngea, Sauv. sp. 6. Eller de cogn. et
cur. sect. 7.
Angina; inflammatoriae, sp. 4. Eoerh. 804.
This is not materially different from the cynanche
S
tonsillaris ; only that the inflammation is said to begin pneUlno.
in the pharynx, though Dr Cullen says he never knew nia.
an instance of it. The symptoms are almost the same, “Y"-*
and the cure is precisely so, with that of the cynanche
tonsillaris.
Sp. V. Cynanche farotid./£a. l8r
Cynanche parotidoea, •Sawn. sp. 14. OreIl-
lons et Ourles, Tissot Avis au peuple, N° 116.
Encyclopedic, au mot Oreillons.
Angina externa, Anghs the Mumps, Russel cecon.
natur. p. 114. Scotis the Branks.
Catarrhus Beliinsulanus, Sauv. sp. 4. Osservazioni
di Girol. Gaspari, Venez. 1731. Osservazioni
di -Larg. Toxetti, Racolta ima, p. 176.
This is a disease well known to the vulgar, but
little taken notice of by medical writers. It is often
epidemic, and manifestly contagious. It comes on
with the usual symptoms of pyrexia, which is soon af¬
ter attended with a considerable tumour of the exter¬
nal fauces and neck. The swelling appears first as
a glandular moveable tumor at the corner of the
lower jaw j but it soon becomes uniformly diffused
over a great part of the neck, sometimes on one side
only, but more commonly on both. The swelling
continues to increase till the fourth day 5 but from
that period it declines, and in a few days more goes
off entirely. As the swelling of the fauces recedes,
it not unfrequently happens that some tumor affects
the testicles in the male sex, or the breasts in the
female. These tumors are sometimes large, hard, and
somewhat painful 5 but are seldom either very painful
or of long continuance. The pyrexia attending this
disease is commonly slight, and goes off with the swel¬
ling of the fauces; but sometimes, when the swelling
of the testicles does not succeed to that of the fauces,
or when the one or the other has been suddenly re¬
pressed, the pyrexia becomes more considerable, is of¬
ten attended with delirium, and has sometimes proved
fatal.
As this disease commonly runs its course without ei¬
ther dangerous or troublesome symptoms, so it hardly
requires any remedies. An antiphlogistic regimen, and
avoiding cold, are all that will be commonly necessary.
But when, upon the receding of the swellings, the py¬
rexia comes to be considerable, and threatens an affec¬
tion of the brain, it will be proper, by warm fomenta¬
tions, to bring back the swelling j and by vomiting,
bleeding, or blistering, to obviate the consequences of
its absence.
Genus XI. PNEUMONIA. -iS*
Febris pneumonica, D. 136.
Sp. I. Peripneumonia. 183
Peripneumony, or Inflammation of the Lungs.
Peripneumonia, Saiw. gen. 112. Lin. 34. Fog. 51.
Sag. gen. 311. Roerk. 820. Juncker 67.
Peripneumonia pura sive vera Auctorum, Sauv. sp. 1.
Peripneumonia gastrica, Sauv. sp. II. Morgagn.de
caus. et sed. Epist. xx. art. 30, 31.
Peripneumonia catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 6.
Peripneumonia
pi? tice
phina_
MEDICINE.
Peripneumonia ijotha, Sydenh. sect. 6. cap. 4.
Boerh. 867. Morgagni de caus. et sed. Epist.
xxi. 11.—15.
Peripneumonia putrida, Sauv. sp. 2.
Peripneumonia ardens, Sauv. sp. 3.
Peripneumonia maligna, Sauv. sp. 4.
Peripneumonia typhodes, Sauv. sp. 5.
Amphimerina peripneumonica, Sauv. sp. 15.
303
Pncumo-
Sp. II. Pleuritis.
The Pleurisy, or Inflammation of the Pleura.
Pleuritis, Sauv. gen. 103. Lin. 27. Pog. 56. Sag.,
gen. 303. Boerh. 875. Junck. 67.
Paraphrenesis, Sauv. gen. 102. Lin. 26.
Paraphrenitis, Pog. 55. Boerh. 907.
Diaphragmitis, Sag. gen. 304.
Pleuritis vera, Sauv. sp. 1. Boerh. 875. Perna
princeps morb. acut. pleuritis, 1. 1. cap. 2. 3.
Zeviani della parapleuritide, cap. 3. Morgagni
de sed. et caus. morb. Epist. xx. art. 56. xxi. 45.
Wendt de pleuritide, apud Sandifort, thes. ii.
Pleuritis pulmonis, Sauv. sp. 2. Zevian. dell, para-
pleur. iii. 28, &c.
Pleuropneumonia, pleuro-peripneumonia', peripneu*-
mo-pleuritis Auctorum. Baronins de pleuri-pneu-
monia. 111. Halleri opuscul. patholog. obs. 13.
Morgagni de sed. et caus. Epist. xx. & xxi. pas¬
sim. Cleghorn, Minorca, p. 247. Triller de pleuri¬
tide, aph. 1, 2, 3. cap. i. 8. Huxham, Dissert,
on pleurisies, &c. chap. i. 111. Pringle, Dis. of
the army.
Pleuritis convulsiva, Sauv. sp. 13. Bianch. Hist, hep*
vol. i. p. 234.
Pleuritis hydrothoracica, Sauv. sp. 15. Morgagni de
caus. et sed. xx. 34.
Pleuritis dorsalis, Sauv. sp. 3. Perna, p. 3. cap. 8.
Pleuritis mediastini, Sauv. sp. 3. P. Sal. Div. de
aflec. part. cap. 6. Freind, Hist. Med. de Aven-
zoare.
Mediastina, Pog. 52.
Pleuritis pericardii, Sauv. sp. 5. Perna, p. iii.
cap. 9.
Parapleuritis, Zeviani della parapleuritide.
Pleurodyne parapleuritis, Sauv. sp. 19.
Paraphrenesis diaphragmatica, Sauv. sp. I. DeHaem
Rat. med. i. 7. iii. p. 31.
Paraphrenesis pleuritica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Paraphrenesis hepatica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Under the general head of Pneumonia, Dr Cullen
comprehends all inflammations of the thoracic vis¬
cera, or membrane lining the inside of that cavity j
as the symptoms do not always sufficiently distinguish
the seat of the affection, nor does a difference in the
situation of the affected place make any difference in
the cure.
_ Description. Pneumonic inflammation, however va¬
rious in the seat, always discovers itself by pyrexia,
difficult breathing, cough, and pain in some part of
the thorax. It almost always comes on with a cold
stage, and is accompanied with the other symptoms of
pyrexia ; though in some few instances the pulse may
uot be more frequent, nor the heat of the body increa¬
sed beyond what is natural. Sometimes the pyrexia is
from the beginning accompanied with the other symp.
toms } but frequently it is formed some hours before nia.
them, and particularly before the pain be felt. The
pulse for the most part is frequent, full, strong, hard,
and quick } but, in a few instances, especially in the
advanced state of the disease, it is weak, soft, and at
the same time irregular. The difficulty of breathing
is most Considerable in inspiration, both because the
lungs do not easily admit of a full dilatation, and be¬
cause the dilatation increases the pain attending the
disease. The difficulty of breathing is also greater
when the patient is in one posture of the body rather
than another. It is generally greater when he lies on
the side affected 5 though sometimes the contrary hap¬
pens. Very often the patient cannot lie upon either
side, and can find ease only when lying on the back j
and sometimes he cannot breathe readily, except when
in somewhat of an erect posture. The cough, in
different cases, is more or less urgent or painful. It
is sometimes dry, or without any expectoration, espe¬
cially in the beginning of the disease 5 but more com¬
monly it is, even from the beginning, moist, and the
matter spit up various both in consistence and colour,
and frequently it is streaked with blood. The pain is
also different in different cases, and felt in different parts
of the thorax, but most frequently in one side. It has
been said to affect the right side more frequently thai*
the left ; but this is uncertain, and we are sure that the
left side has been very often affected. Sometimes it is
felt as if it was under the sternum ; sometimes in the
back between the shoulders 5 and when in the sides, its
place has been higher or lower, more forward or back¬
ward ; but the place of all most frequently affected is
about the sixth or seventh' rib, near the middle of its
length, or a little more forward. The pain is often se¬
vere and pungent $ but sometimes more dull and ob¬
tuse, with a sense of weight rather than of pain. It is
most especially severe and pungent when occupying the
place last mentioned. For the most part it continues
fixed in one part, but sometimes shoots from the side to
the scapula on one hand, or to the sternum and clavicle-
on the other. •
Dr Cullen supposes that the disease is always seat¬
ed, or at least begins, in some part of the pleura, ta¬
king that membrane in its greatest extent, as now
commonly understood j that is, as covering not only
the internal surface of the cavity of the thorax, but al¬
so as forming the mediastinum, and as extended over
the pericardium, and over the whole surface of the
lungs. But as the symptoms never clearly indicate
where the seat of the disease is, there is but Iktie foun¬
dation for the different names by which it has been
distinguished. The term pleurisy is improperly limited
to that inflammation which begins in and chiefly af¬
fects the pleura costalis. This Dr Cullen thinks is a
rare occurrence 5 and that'the pneumonia much more
frequently begins in the pleura investing the lungs,
producing all the symptoms which belong to what
hath been called the pleuritis vera. The word peri-
pneumony has been applied to an inflammation begin¬
ning in the parenchyma, or cellular texture of the
lungs, and having its seat chiefly there. But to Dr
Cullen it seems very doubtful if any acute inflamma¬
tion of the lungs, or any disease which has been call¬
ed peripneumony, be of that kind. It seems probable,
1 that
3°4
Phlegma-
sias.
u v 
MEDICINE.
Practia
that every acute inflammation begins in membranous
parts 5 and in every dissection of persons who have died
of peripneumony, the external membrane of the lungs,
or some part of the pleura, has appeared to have been
considerably alfected. An inflammation of the pleura
covering the upper surface of the diaphragm, has been
distinguished by the appellation paraphreriitis, as sup¬
posed to be attended with the peculiar symptoms of
delirium, risus sardonicus, and other convulsive motions:
but it is certain, that an inflammation of that portion
of the pleura, and aflecting also even the muscular sub¬
stance of the diaphragm, has often taken place with¬
out any of the symptoms above mentioned ; and neither
the dissections which have fallen under Dr Cullen’s
observation, nor any accounts of dissections, support the
opinion that an inflammation of the pleura covering the
diaphragm is attended with delirium more commonly
than any other pneumonic inflammation.—It is to be ob¬
served, however, that though the inflammation may be¬
gin in one particular part of the pleura, the morbid af¬
fection is commonly communicated to the whole extent
- of the membrane.
The pneumonic inflammation, like others, may ter¬
minate by resolution, suppuration, or gangrene : but
it has also a termination peculiar to itself; namely,
when it is attended with an effusion of blood into the
cellular texture of the lungs, which, soon interrupt¬
ing the circulation of the blood through the viscus,
produces a fatal suffocation. This indeed appears to
be the most common termination of pneumonic inflam-
rnation when it ends fatally j for upon the dissection
of almost every person who has died of this disease, it
appears that such an effusion had happened. From
the same dissections we learn, that pneumonic inflam¬
mation commonly produces an exudation from the in¬
ternal surface of the pleura, which appears partly as a
soft viscid crust, often of a compact membranous form,
covering every where the surface of the pleura, and
particularly those parts where the lungs adhere to the
pleura costalis, or mediastinum j and this crust seems
always to be the cement of such adhesion. The same
exudation shows itself also by a quantity of a serous
fluid commonly found in the cavity of the thorax; and
some exudation or effusion is usually found to have
been made into the cavity of the pericardium. It
seems likewise probable, that an effusion of this kind
is sometimes made into the cavity of the bronchia; j
for in some persons who have died after labouring
under a pneumonic inflammation for a few days only,
the bronchiae have been found filled with a consider¬
able quantity of serous and thickish fluid, which must
be considered rather as the effusion above mentioned,
having had its thinner parts taken ofl’ by respiration,
than as a pus so suddenly formed in the inflamed part.
It is, however, not improbable, that this effusion, as
well as that made into the cavities of the thorax and
pericardium, may be a matter of the same kind with
that w'hich in other inflammations is poured into the
cellular texture of the parts inflamed, and there con¬
verted into pus $ but in the thorax and pericardium it
does not always put on this appearance, because the
crust covering the surface prevents the absorption of
the thinner part. This absorption, however, may be
compensated in the bronchiae, by the drying power of
the air j and therefore the effusion into them may as¬
sume a more purulent appeatance. In many cases of p
pneumonic inflammation, when the expectoration is i,;®0
very copious, it is difficult to suppose that the whole
proceeds from the mucous follicles of the bronchi* 5
and it seems probable that a great part of it may come
from the effused serous fluid just mentioned ; and this
too will account for the appearance of the expectora¬
tion being so often purulent. Perhaps the same thine'
will account for that pOrulent matter found in the
bronchise, which Mr de Haen says he had often ob¬
served when there was no ulceration in the lungs,
and which he accounts for in a very strange manner,
namely, by supposing a pus formed in the circulating
blood.
Dr Cullen is of opinion, that the effusion into the
bronchiae above mentioned often concurs with the ef¬
fusion of red blood into the cellular substance of the
lungs to occasion the fatal suffocation which frequent¬
ly terminates peripneumony: that the effusion of serum
alone may have this effect: and that the serum poured
out in a certain quantity, rather than any debility in
the powders of expectoration, is the cause of that cessa¬
tion of spitting which precedes the fatal event j for in
many cases the expectoration has ceased, when no other
symptoms of debility have appeared, and when, upon
dissection, the bronchiae have been full of liquid matter.
Nay, it is even probable, that in some cases such an
effusion may take place without any symptoms of vio¬
lent inflammation j and in other cases the effusion tak¬
ing place may seem to remove the symptoms of in¬
flammation which had appeared before, and thus ac¬
count for those unexpected fatal terminations which have
sometimes happened.
Pneumonic inflammation seldom terminates by reso¬
lution, without being attended with some evident eva¬
cuation. An haemorrhagy from the nose happening on
some of the first days of the disease has sometimes put
an end to it; and it is said, that an evacuation from
the haemorrhoidal veins, a bilious evacuation by stool,
and an evacuation of urine with a copious sediment,
have severally had the same effect *, but such occur-
x*ences have been rare. The evacuation most frequent¬
ly attending, and seeming to have the greatest effect in
promoting resolution, is an expectoration of a thick,
white, or yellowish matter, a little streaked with blood,
copious, and brought up without much or violent
coughing. Very frequently the resolution of this dis¬
ease is attended with, and perhaps produced by, a swreat,
if it be warm, fluid, copious, over the whole body,
and attended with an abatement of the frequency oi
the pulse, heat of the body, and other febrile symp¬
toms. Although, from the history now given, it ap¬
pears that pleurisy and peripneumony cannot with
propriety be considered as different diseases, yet it is
certain that in diflerent cases this affection occurs
with an assemblage of symptoms separate and distinct.
Thus even Dr Cullen himself, in his Nosology, has
defined pleuritis to consist in pyrexia, attended with
pungent pain of the side, painful respiration, difficulty
ot lying down, particularly on the afiected side, and
distressing cough, in the beginning dry, but afterwards
humid, and often with bloody expectoration. V idle
again he has defined peripneumony to consist in pyrexia,
at! ended whh a dull pain under the sternum and be¬
tween the shoulders, anxiety, difficulty of breathing, hu-
MEDICINE.
Pr 'tice.
PI; raa- mid cough, expectoration generally bloody, a soft pulse,
and a tumid livid appearance of the countenance. It is
1— —J highly probable, that the first of these sets of symptoms
chiefly arises from a state of active inflammation, and
the second from effusion. Thus, in certain cases, the
symptoms may appear perfectly separate and distinct}
but more frequently both inflammation and effusion are
united ; and thus the symptoms in both definitions are
in general combined in the same patient. But still
pleuritis, strictly so called, may be considered as charac¬
terized by the acute pungent pain at a particular spot
of the chest, and that pain much aggravated on a full
inspiration ; while proper peripneumonia is distinguish¬
ed by the dull gravative pain extended over the whole
chest, and by the laborious respiration.
Causes of, and persons subject to, this disorder. The
remote cause of pneumonic inflammation is commonly
cold applied to the body, obstructing perspiration, and
determining to the lungs, while at the same time the
lungs themselves are exposed to the action of cold.
These circumstances operate chiefly when an inflamma¬
tory diathesis prevails in the system ; and therefore
those principally affected with this disease are persons of
the greatest vigour, in cold climates, often in the winter
season, but particularly in the spring, when vicissitudes
of heat and cold are frequent. The disease, however,
may arise in any season when such varieties take place.
Other remote causes also may have a share in produ¬
cing this distemper 5 such as every means of obstruct¬
ing, straining, or otherwise injuring, the pulmonary
organs. The pneumatic inflammation has sometimes
been so much an epidemic, that it hath been suspect¬
ed of depending on a specific contagion j but Dr
Cullen never met with an instance of its being conta¬
gious.
Prognosis. In pneumatic inflammations, a violent
pyrexia is always dangerous. The danger, however,
is chiefly denoted by the difficulty of breathing. When
the patient can lie on one side only ; when he can lie on
neither side, but only on bis back 5 when he cannot
breathe with tolerable ease, except when the trunk of
his body is erect 5 when even in this posture the breath¬
ing is very difficult, and attended with a turgescence
and flushing ol the face, with partial sweats about the
head and neck, and an irregular pulse ; these circum¬
stances mark the difficulty of breathing in different de¬
grees ; and consequently, in proportion, the danger of
the disease. A frequent violent cough, aggravating the
pain, is always the symptom of an obstinate disease ;
and as the disease is seldom or never resolved without
some expectoration, so a dry cough must always be an
unfavourable symptom.
The proper characteristics of the expectoration have
been already laid down j and though an expectoration
which has not these marks must indicate a doubtful
state of the disease, yet the colour alone can give no
certain prognostic. An acute pain, very much inter¬
rupting inspiration, is always the mark of a violent
disease; but not of a more dangerous disease than an
obtuse pain, attended with very difficult respiration,
demonstrating effusion into the cells.
When the pains, which had at first affected one side
ouly, shall afterwards spread into the other; or when,
caving the side first affected, they pass entirely into the
‘-tfher 5 these are always marks of a dangerous disease.
Vol. XIIL Part I. f
A delirium coming on during a pneumonic inflamma- Pneumo.
tion is always a symptom denoting much danger. nia.
W hen pneumonic disorders terminate fatally, it is ■ v"**-
on one or other of the days of the first week, from the
third to the seventh. ’I his is the most common case ^
but, in a few instances, death has happened at a later
Period. When the disease is violent, but admitting of
resolution, this also happens frequently in the course of
the first Weekbut in a more moderate disease the re¬
solution is often put off to the second week. The dis¬
ease generally suffers a remission on some of the days j
from the third to the seventh : which, however, may
be often fallacious, as it sometimes returns again with
as much violence as before : and in such a case
with great danger. Sometimes it disappears on the
third day, while an erysipelas makes its appearance on
some external part j and if this continue fixed, the
pneumatic inflammation does not recur. If the disease
continue beyond the 14th day, it will terminate in a
suppuration, or Phthisis. The termination by gan¬
grene is much more rare than has been imagined : and
when it does occur, it is usually joined with the termi¬
nation by effusion j the symptoms of the one being
hardly distinguishable from those of the other.
Cure. This must proceed upon the general plan
mentioned under Synocha; but, on account of the
importance of the part affected, the remedies must be
employed early, and as fully as possible: and these are
chiefly directed with one of three views, viz. for ob¬
taining a resolution of the inflammation in the thorax,
for mitigating the urgent symptoms before a resolution
can be effected, and for counteracting or obviating the
consequences of the disease. Venesection is the re¬
medy chiefly to be depended on ; and may be perform¬
ed in either arm, as the surgeon finds most convenient;
and the quantity taken away ought in general to be as
large as the patient’s strength will allow'. The remis¬
sion of pain, and the relief of respiration, during the
flowing of the blood, may limit tbe quantity to be then,
drawn : but if these symptoms of relief do not appear,
the bleeding should be continued to a considerable ex¬
tent, unless symptoms of a beginning syncope come on.
It is seldom that one bleeding, however large, will cure
this disease j and though the pain and difficulty of
breathing may be much relieved by the first bleeding,
these symptoms commonly and after no long interval
recur, often with as much violence as before. In this
case the bleeding is to be repeated even on the same
day, and perhaps to the same quantity as before.
Sometimes the second bleeding may be larger than the
first. There are persons, who, by their constitution,
are ready to faint even upon a small bleeding; and in
such persons this may prevent the drawing so much
blood at first as a pneumonic inflammation may require:
but as the same persons are found to bear after-bleed¬
ings better than the first, this allow'S the second and
subsequent bleedings to be larger, and to such a quan¬
tity as the symptoms of the disease may seem to re¬
quire.
Bleedings are to be repeated according to the state
of the symptoms, and they will be more effectual when
practised in the- course of the first three days than af¬
terwards ; but they are not to be omitted though four
days of the disease’ may already have elapsed. If the
physician has not been called in time, or the first bleed-
Q q i”gs
306
M E D I
Pblt'gma- liave not been sufficiently large, or even though
they should have procured some remission, yet upon
the return of the urgent symptoms, bleeding may be
repeated at any time within the first fortnight, or even
after that period, if a suppuration be not evident, or if
after a seeming solution the disease shall have returned.
With respect to the quantity of blood which may
he taken away with safety, no general rules can be gi¬
ven m, as it must be very different according to the state
of the disease, and the constitution of the patient. In
an adult male of tolerable strength, a pound of blood is
a full bleeding. Any quantity above 20 ounces is a
large, and any quantity below 12 is a small, bleeding.
An evacuation ol four or five pounds, in the course of
two or three days, is generally as much as most patients
will bear j but if the intervals between the bleedings,
and the whole of the time during which the bleedings
have been employed, have been long, the quantity taken
upon the whole may be greater.
When a large quantity of blood has been taken
from the arm, and it is doubtful if more can be taken
in that manner with safety, some blood may still be
taken by cupping and scarifying. This will especially
be proper, when the recurrence of the pain, rather than
the difficulty of breathing, becomes the urgent symp¬
tom •, and then the cupping and scarification should be
made as near as possible to the pained part.
An expectoration sometimes takes place very early
in this disease ; but if the symptoms continue urgent,
the bleedings must be repeated notwithstanding the ex¬
pectoration : but in a more advanced state, and when
the symptoms have suffered a considerable remission, we
may then trust the cure to the expectoration alone. It
is not observed that bleeding, during the first days of
the disease, stops expectoration on the contrary, it
has been often found to promote it; and it is only in
a more advanced state of the disease, when the patient
has been already exhausted by large evacuations and a
continuance of bis illness, that bleeding seems to put
a stop to expectoration •, and even then, this stoppage
seems not to take place so much from the powers of
expectoration being weakened by bleeding, as by its
favouring the serous effusion in the bronchiae, already
taken notice of.
Besides bleeding, every part of the antiphlogistic re¬
gimen ought here to be carefully employed; the pa¬
tient must keep out of bed as much as he can bear j
must have plenty of warm diluting drinks, impregnat¬
ed with vegetable acids, accompanied with nitre or
some other cooling neutral salt 5 and the belly also
ought to be kept open by emollient clysters or cool¬
ing laxative medicines. \ omiting in the beginning
is dangerous ; but in a somewhat advanced state of the
disease emetics have been found the best means of pro¬
moting expectoration. Fomentations and poultices to
the pained part have been found useful; but blister¬
ing is found to be much more effectual. A blister,
however, ought not to be applied till at least one bleed¬
ing lias been premised, as venesection is less effectual
when the irritation of a blister is present. If the dis¬
ease be moderate, a blister may be applied immediately
after the first bleeding; but in violent cases, where it
may he presumed that a second bleeding may soon be
necessary after the first, it will be proper to delay the
blister till after the second bleeding, when it may be
C I N E. Practice
supposed that the irritation occasioned by the blister pneiHBo
will be over before another bleeding becomes necessary. aia.
It may frequently be of use in this disease to repeat
the blistering ; and in that case the plasters should al¬
ways be applied somewhere on the thorax, for when
applied to more distant parts they have less effect. The
keeping the blistered parts open, and making what is
called a perpetual blister, has much less effect than a re¬
peated blistering.
Many methods have been proposed for promoting
expectoration, but none appear to be sufficiently effec¬
tual ; and some of the expectorants, being acrid stimu¬
lant substances, are not very safe. The gums usually
employed seem to be too heating} the squills less so j
but they are not very powerful, and sometimes inconve¬
nient, by the constant nausea they occasion. The vo¬
latile alkali may be of service as an expectorant, but
it ought to be reserved for an advanced state ol the
disease. Mucilaginous and oily demulcents appear to
be useful, by allaying that acrimony of the mucus
which occasions too frequent coughing *, and which
coughing prevents the stagnation and thickening of
the mucus, and thereby its becoming mild. The re¬
ceiving into the lungs the steams of warm water, im¬
pregnated with vinegar, has often proved useful in
promoting expectoration } and, for this purpose, the
machine called the Inhaler, lately invented by Br
Mudge of Plymouth, promises to be of great service.
But of all others, the antimonial emetics, given in
nauseating doses, are perhaps the most powerful for
promoting expectoration. The kermes mineral has
been greatly recommended j but does not seem to be
more efficacious than tartrite of antimony or antimonial
wine j and the dose ol the kermes is much moi'e uncer¬
tain than that of the others.
Though this disease often terminates by a spontaneous
sweating, this evacuation ought not to be excited by
art, unless with much caution. When, after some re¬
mission of the symptoms, spontaneous sweats arise, they
may be encouraged ; hut it ought to be without much
heat, and without stimulant medicines. If, however,
the sweats be partial and clammy only, and a great dif¬
ficulty of breathing still remain, it will be very danger
ous to encourage them.
Physicians have differed much with regard to the
use of opiates in pneumonic affections. It appears,
however, that in the beginning of the disease, and
before bleeding and blistering have produced some re¬
mission of the pain, and of the difficulty of breathing,
opiates have had a bad tendency, by their increasing
the difficulty of breathing and other inflammatory
symptoms. But in a more advanced state of the dis¬
ease, when the difficulty of breathing has abated, and
when the urgent symptom is a cough, proving the
chief cause of the continuance of pain and want ol
rest, opiates may be employed with great advantage and
safety. The interruption of the expectoration which
they seem to occasion, is for a short time only ; and
they seem often to promote it, as they occasion a stag¬
nation of what was by frequent coughing dissipated in¬
sensibly : and therefore give the appearance of what
physicians called concocted matter.
Opium combined with calomel has of late been high¬
ly extolled in this and other inflammatory diseases by
X)r Hamilton of Lynn Regis 5 who has given a full ac¬
count
M E B I C I N E.
;ticC.
ma_ couut of the success attending his practice with this
remedy for the space of 16 years, in the 9th volume ot
the Edinburgh Medical Commentaries. And since his
recommendation, the same remedy lias often been em¬
ployed by others with great benefit.
Vomica, or Abscess of the Lungs*
Vomica, Boerh. 835. Junck. 35.
Pleurodyne vomica, Sauv. sp. 21.
Phthisis sometimes follows pneumonia, though the
case is not frequent. The symptoms of it so much re¬
semble ordinary phthisis, that it can most properly be
treated of under that head.
Empyema.
This is another consequence of a pneumonia termi¬
nating unfavourably, and is occasioned by the effusion
of a quantity of purulent matter into the cavity of the
thorax, producing a lingering and painful disorder, very
often incurable.
Description. The first sign of an empyema is a ces¬
sation of the pain in the breast, which before was con¬
tinual : this is followed by a sensation of weight on the
diaphragm j and a fluctuation of matter, sometimes
making a noise that may be heard by the bystanders :
the acute fever is changed into a hectic, with an exa¬
cerbation at night: a continual and troublesome dry
cough remains. The respiration is exceedingly diffi¬
cult, because the lungs are prevented by the matter
from fully expanding themselves. The patient can lie
easily on that side where the matter is effused, but not
on the other, because then the weight of the matter
on the mediastinum produces uneasiness. The more
the hectic heat is augmented, the more is the body
emaciated, and its strength decayed. In some there
is danger of suffocation when they stoop down, which
goes off when they alter that posture of the body j and
in some there is a purulent spitting.— These symptoms
are accompanied with great anxiety, palpitations of the
heart, and faintings. Sometimes the patients have a
sensation like a hot vapour ascending from the cavity
of the thorax to their mouth. Others, in a more ad¬
vanced state of the disease, have a putrid taste in the
mouth. At the same time, profuse night sweats wraste
the body, and greatly weaken the patient. The face
at first grows red on that side where the matter lies, at
last the Hippocratic face comes on, and the eyes become
hollow. The pulse is quick, but more frequently in¬
termitting. Sometimes the nails are crooked, and pus¬
tules appear on the thorax j and frequently, according to
the testimony of Hippocrates, the feet swell, and, on
the affected side of the breast, there is an inflation and
swelling of the skin.
Causes, &c. An empyema may arise either from
the bursting of a vomica of the lungs, or from a sup¬
puration taking place after the inflammatory stage of
pneumonia ; or sometimes from a suppuration in the case
of a quinsy, when the inflammation had extended to the
aspera arteria, from whence arises a kind of bloody
spittle, and the patients are afflicted with an empyema,
unless they die on the 7th day of the disease, according
to the observation of Hippocrates. It may arise also
from external violence, as wounds of the thorax, &c.
ylood extravasated, corrupted, or changed into pus.
Like the vomica, it is a rare distemper, but may attack
all those subject to pneumonia.
Prognosis. Very few recover after an empyema
has been once formed, especially if the operation of
paracentesis be neglected. After this operation is per¬
formed, if a great quantity of bloody fetid pus be dis¬
charged, if the fever continue, and if the patient spit
up a purulent, pale, frothy, livid, or green matter, with
a decay of strength, there is no hope : But when a
small quantity of pus, of a white colour, not very fetid,
is discharged j when the fever and thirst presently cease,
the appetite returns, and faeces of a good consistence
are discharged, the strength also returning in some de¬
gree } there is then hope of a perfect recovery. If
the matter be not dried up in seven weeks time, the
disease readily changes to a fistulous ulcer, which is
very difficult to cure. An empyema affecting both
sides of the thorax is more dangerous than that which
affects only one.
Cure. This consists in evacuating the purulent mat¬
ter contained in the cavity of the thorax, which is
best done by the operation of paracentesis of the tho¬
rax. See Surgery. Afterwards the ulcer is to be
treated with abstergent and consolidating medicines,
and the same internal ones are to be given as in a
Phthisis.
Genus XIII. CARDITIS.
Inflammation of the Heart.
Carditis, Sauv. gen. in. Vog. 54.
Pericarditis, Vog. 53.
Carditis spontanea, Sauv. sp. 1. Senac. Traite d<
Coeur, 1. iv. c. 7. Meckel, Mem. de Berlin, 1756.
Erysipelas pulmonis, Lomm. Observ. lib. ii.
Description. This disease is attended with all the
symptoms of pneumonia, but in a higher degree j it is
besides said to be accompanied with hydrophobic symp¬
toms, fainting, palpitation of the heart, a seeming mad¬
ness, a sunk and irregular pulse, watery eyes, and a
dejected countenance, with a dry and black tongue.
On dissection, the heart and pericardium are found
very much inflamed, and even ulcerated, with many
polypous concretions.
Causes, &.c. The same as in the pneumonia.
Prognosis. In the carditis the prognosis is more un¬
favourable than in the pneumonia j and indeed, unless
the disease very quickly terminates, it must prove fatal,
on account of the constant and violent motion of the
heart, which exasperates the inflammation, and increases
all the symptoms.
Cure. Here bleeding is necessary in as great a de¬
gree as the patient can possibly bear, together with
blistering, and the antiphlogistic regimen likewise car¬
ried to a greater height than in the pneumonia j but the
general method is the same as in other inflammatory
diseases.
Genus XIV. PERITONITIS.
Inflammation of the Peritonaeum.
Sp. I. Inflammation of the Peritonaeum properly so
called.
Peritonitis, Vog. 62. Lieutad. Hist. anat. med. lib. u
0 q 2 obs.
30 8
Phlegma-
siae.
?S»o
191
It)3
MEDICINE.
obs. 3. Raygerus apud euiut. Hb. i. obs. 341. Mor-
gagn. tie sed. LV1I. 20.
Sp. II. Inflammation of the Peritonjeum extended
/ over the Omentum.
Epiploitis, Sauv. gen. 106. Sag. 308.
Omentitis, Vog. 61.
Omenti inflammatio, Roerh. 985. et 111. Van Swie-
ten, Comm. Stork. An. Med. I. 132. Hulme on
the puerperal feveral fever.
Sp. III. Inflammation of the Peritoneum stretch¬
ed over the Mesentery.
Mesenteritis, Vog. 60.
Enteritis mesenterica, Sauv. sp. 4.
Genus XV. GASTRITIS.
Inflammation of the Stomach.
A. Gastritis Phlegmonodjea, or the genuine Ga¬
stritis.
Gastritis legitima, Sauv. sp. 1. Eller, de cogn. et
cur. morb. sect. xii. Haller, obs. 14. hist. 3. Lieut.,
Hist. Anat. Med. lib. i. 74.
Gastritis erysipelatosa, Sauv. sp. 4.
Cardialgia inflammatoria, Sauv. sp. 13. Tralles, de
opio, sect. ii. p. 231.
These diseases Dr Cullen has thought proper to con¬
sider all under the general head of Gastritis, as there
are no certain signs by which they can be distinguished
from each other, and the method of cure must be the
same in all.
Description. The inflammation of the stomach is at¬
tended with great heat and pain in the epigastric re¬
gion, extreme anxiety, an almost continual and pain¬
ful hiccough, with a most painful vomiting of every
thing taken into the stomach. Sometimes a temporary
madness ensues; and there is an instance in the Edin¬
burgh Medical Essays of the disorder being attended
■with an hydrophobia. The pulse is generally more
sunk than in other inflammations, and the fever inclines
to the nature of a typhus. The disorder is commonly
of the remitting kind, and during tbe remissions the
pulse frequently intermits. During the height of the
disease, a mortal phrensy frequently supervenes. The
disease terminates on the fourth, seventh, or ninth day,
or from the eleventh to the fifteenth 5 and is more apt
to end in a gangrene than pneumonic inflammations,
and more frequently in a scirrhus than in an abscess.
Causes, &c. The inflammation of the stomach may
arise from any acrid substance taken into it; from
a vehement passion, too large draughts of cold liquor,
especially when the person is very hot; from a surfeit;
a stoppage of perspiration ; repulsion of the gout; in¬
flammations of the neighbouring viscera; or from
external injuries, such as wounds, contusions, &c.—
It affects chiefly those of a plethoric habit and hot
bilious constitution.
Prognosis. This disease is always very dangerous,
and the prognosis doubtful, which also must always be
in proportion to the severity of the symptoms. A
cessation ot pain, coldness about the prsecordia, great
Practic
debility, with a languid and intermitting pulse, with Gastr- •
an abatement of the hiccough, denote a gangrene and v—--v—
speedy death. From the sensibility of the stomach
also, and its great connexion with the rest of the
system, it must be obvious, that an inflammation of
it, by whatever causes produced, may be attended with
fatal consequences ; particularly, by the great debility
it produces, it may prove suddenly fatal, without run¬
ning through the usual course of inflammations.—Its
tendency to admit of resolution may be known by its
having arisen from no violent cause, by the moderate
state of the symptoms, and by a gradual remission of
these symptoms in the course of the first or at most of
the second week of the disease. The tendency to
gangrene may be suspected from the symptoms con¬
tinuing with unremitting violence, notwithstanding the
use of proper remedies ; and a gangrene already begun
may be known by the symptoms above mentioned,
particularly great debility and sudden cessation of pain.
The tendency to suppuration may be known by the
symptoms continuing but in a moderate degree for
more than one or two weeks, and by a considerable re¬
mission of the pain, while a sense of weight and anxiety
still remain. When an abscess has been formed, the
frequency of the pulse is first abated : but soon after
it increases, with frequent cold shivering, and an exa¬
cerbation in the afternoon and evening ; followed by
night sweats, and other symptoms of hectic fever. These
at length prove fatal, unless the abscess open into the
cavity of the stomach, the pus be evacuated by vomit¬
ing, and the ulcer soon healed.
Cure. It appears from dissections, that the stomach
may very often be inflamed when the characteristic
marks of it have not appeared ; and therefore we are
often exposed to much uncertainty in the cure. But
when we have sufficient evidence that a state of active
inflammation has taken place in the stomach, the prin¬
cipal object to be aimed at is to obtain a resolution.
Before, however, this can be accomplished, it will
often be necessary to employ measures with the view of
obviating urgent symptoms. When the symptoms ap¬
pear in the manner above described, the cure is to be
attempted by large and repeated bleedings employed
early in the disease ; and from these we are not to be
deterred by the weakness of the pulse, for it will com¬
monly become fuller and softer after the operation.
A blister ought also to be applied to the region of the
stomach ; and the cure will be assisted by fomenta¬
tions of the whole abdomen, and by frequent emollient
and laxative clysters. The irritability of the stomach
in this disease will admit of no medicines being thrown
into it; and if any can be supposed necessary, they
must be exhibited in clysters. Diluting drinks may be
tried ; but they must be of the very mildest kind, and
given in very small quantities at a time. Opiates, in
whatever manner exhibited, cannot be retained in the
stomach during the first days of the disease ; but when
the violence ol the disease shall have abated, and when
the pain and vomiting recur at intervals only, opiates
given in clysters are frequently employed with advan¬
tage ; and after bleeding and blisters no remedy is
more effectual either in allaying the pain or vomiting.
As soon as the stomach will retain any laxative, gentle
refrigerant cathartics, taken by the mouth, such as
the soda phosphorata, soda tartarisata, or the like,
are
Pr :tice.
ph ma- are productive of great benefit. A tendency to gan¬
grene in this disease is to be obviated only by the
*«- ^ means just now mentioned ; but when it does actually
supervene, it admits of no remedy. A tendency to
suppuration is to be obviated by the same means em¬
ployed early in the disease. After a certain period it
cannot be prevented by any means whatever •, and,
when actually begun, must be left to nature ; the only
thing that can he done by art being to avoid all irrita¬
tion.
• B. Gastritis Erysipelatosa, or the Enjsipdatous
Gastritis.
description. This species of inflammation takes place
in the stomach much more frequently than the former.
From dissections it appears that the stomach has been
often aflected with inflammation, when neither pain
nor fever had given any notice of it} and such is justly
looked upon to have been of the erysipelatous kind.
This kind of inflammation also is especially to be ex¬
pected from acrimony of any kind applied to the sto¬
mach ; and would certainly occur much more frequent¬
ly, were not the interior surface of this organ common¬
ly defended by mucus exuding in large quantity from
the numerous follicles placed immediately under the
villous coat. On many occasions, however, the exuda¬
tion of mucus is prevented, or the liquid poured out is
of a less viscid kind, so as to be less fitted to defend the,
subjacent nerves j and it is in such cases that acrid mat*
ters may readily produce an erysipelatous affection or
the stomach.
In many cases this kind of inflammation cannot be
discovered, as it takes place without pain, pyrexia, or
vomiting : hut in some it may j namely, when it
spreads into the oesophagus, and appears on the pharynx;
and on the whole internal surface of the mouth. When
therefore an erysipelatous inflammation affects the mouth
and fauces, and there shall be at the same time in the
stomach an unusual sensibility to all acrids, and also a.
frequent vomiting, there can be little doubt of the sto¬
mach’s being affected in the same manner. Even when
no inflammation appears in the fauces, if some degree
of pain be felt in the stomach, if there be a want of
appetite, an anxiety and frequent vomiting, an unusual
sensibility with regard to acrids, some thirst, and fre¬
quency of pulse, there will then be room to suspect an
inflammation in the stomach j and such symptoms, after
some time, have been known to discover their cause by
the inflammation rising to the fauces or mouth. In¬
flammation of this kind is often disposed to pass from
one place to another on the same surface, and, in doing
so, to leave the place it had at first occupied. Such an,
inflammation has been known to spread successively;
along the whole tract of the alimentary canal j occa¬
sioning, when in the intestines, diarrhoea, and in the
stomach vomitings j the diarrhoea ceasing when the vo¬
mitings came on, and the vomitings on the coming on
of the diarrhoea.
Causes, &c. An erysipelatous inflammation may
arise from acrid matters taken into the stomach } or
from some internal causes not yet well known. It fre¬
quently occurs in putrid diseases, and in those recover¬
ing from fevers.
Cure. When the disease is occasioned by acrid mat-
, . 309
teis taken internally, and these may be supposed still Enteritis,
present in the stomach, they are to be washed out by
drinking a large quantity of warm and mild medicines,
and exciting gentle vomiting. At the same time, if
the nature of the acrimony and its proper corrector be
known, this should be thrown in : or if a specific cor- ^
rector be not known, some general demulcents should
be employed.
These measures, however, are more suited to prevent
than to cure inflammation after it has taken place.
When this last may be supposed to have happened, if it
be attended with a sense of heat, with pain and pyrexia,
according to the degree of these symptoms, the mea¬
sures proposed for the cure of the other kind are to be
more or less employed. When an erysipelatous inflam¬
mation of the stomach has arisen from internal causes,
if pain and pyrexia occur, bleeding may be employed
in persons not otherwise weakened j but in case of its
occurring in putrid diseases, or where the patients are
already debilitated, bleeding is inadmissible j all that
can be done being to avoid irritation, and only throw¬
ing into the stomach what quantity of acids and aces¬
cent aliments it shall be found able to bear. In some
conditions of the body in which this disease is apt to
occur, cinchona and bitters may seem to be indicated j
but an erysipelatous state of the stomach will seldom al?
low them to be used.
Genus XVI. ENTERITIS. 195
Inflammation of the Intestines.
Enteritis, Sauv. gen. 105. Lin. 29. Log. 57. Sag.
gen. 307.
Intestinorum inflammatio, Boerh. 959.
Febris intestinorum inflammatoria ex mesenterio,
Hojfm. ii. 170.
Sp. I. Enteritis P hl eg mo nod tea , or the Acute
Enteritis.
Enteritis iliaca, Sauv. sp. 1.
Enteritis colica, Sauv. sp. 2. Boerh. 963.
Desct'iption. This disease shows itself by a fixed pain
in the abdomen, attended with fever, vomiting, and co¬
stiveness. The pain is often felt in dift’erent parts of the
abdomen, but more frequently spreads over the whole,
and is particularly violent about the navel.
Causes, &.c. Inflammations of the intestines may arise
from the same causes as those of the stomach 5 though
commonly the former will more readily occur from cold
applied to the lower extremities, or to the belly itself.
It is also found supervening on the spasmodic colic, in¬
carcerated hernia, and volvulus.
Prognosis. Inflammations of the intestines have the
same terminations with those of the stomach, and the
prognosis in both cases is much the same.
Cure. The cure of enteritis is in general the same
with that of gastritis j but in this disease there is com¬
monly more opportunity for the introduction of li¬
quids, of acid, acescent, and other cooling remedies,
and even of laxatives; but as a vomiting frequently
attends the enteritis, care must be taken not to excite
that vomiting by the quantity or quality of any thing
thrown into the stomach. With regard to the suppuT
ration
MEDICINE.
MEDICINE. Practik!
j->lileoma- ration ami gangrene of the intestines following the en-
six. teritis, the observations made respecting these termina-
“ v——' j.[ons 0f gastritis are equally applicable in this disease.
197 Sp. IT. Enteritis Erysipelatosa, or Erysipelatous
Enteritis.
Concerning this nothing farther can be said, than
what hath been already delivered concerning the gas¬
tritis.
198 Genus XVII. HEPATITIS.
Inflammation of the Liver.
Hepatitis, Sauv. gen. 113. Lin. 35. Vog. 58. Sag.
gen. 312. Boerh. 914. Hoff'm. ii. 14. lunch. 66.
Description. The inflammation of the liver is
thought to be of two kinds, acute and chronic } but
the latter very often does not discover itself except by
an abscess found in the liver after death, and which
is supposed to have been occasioned by some degree of
inflammation 5 for this reason the chronic inflammation
often escapes observation, and we shall here only treat
of the acute hepatitis.
The acute hepatitis is attended with considerable fe¬
ver ; a frequent, strong, and hard pulse *, high colour¬
ed urine *, an acute pain in the right hypochondrium,
increased by pressing upon the part. The pain is very
often in such a part of the side as to make it appear
like a pleurisy; and frequently, like that, is increased
on inspiration. The disease is also commonly attended
with a cough, which is generally dry, though sometimes
moist •, and when the pain thus resembles a pleurisy, the
patient cannot lie easily except upon the side affected.
The pain is frequently extended to the clavicle, and to
the top of the shoulder ; and is attended sometimes
with hiccough, and sometimes with vomiting. Some
have added jaundice, or a yellowness of the eyes, to the
symptoms of this distemper ; but experience shows that
it has often occurred without any such symptom.
When hepatitis is of the chronic kind, depending
more on an accumulation and eflusion in the liver,
than on an increased action of its small vessels, the pa¬
tient complains rather of a sense of weight than of
pain *, and the fever is by no means either acute or
constant: but it often returns in paroxysms some¬
what resembling the attacks of an intermittent. This
disease is very slow in its progress, frequently continu¬
ing for many months, and at last terminating in a very
considerable suppuration. In most cases, however, it
may be discovered by careful examination of the re¬
gion of the liver externally. By this means a consi¬
derable enlargement of that viscus may in general be
detected.
Causes, &c. The remote causes of hepatitis are not
always to be discerned, and many have been assigned
on a very uncertain foundation. It is principally a
disease of warm climates. It has been supposed that
the disease may be an affection either of the ex¬
tremities of the hepatic artery, or those of the vena
portarum *, and the supposition is by no means impro¬
bable. The opinion, however, most commonly adopted
is, that the acute hepatitis is an affection of the exter¬
nal membrane of the liver, and the chronic kind an af-
I
fection of the parenchyma of that viscus. The acute Hepa
disease may be seated either on the convex or concave1—-y "4
surface of the liver j and in the former case a more
pungent pain and hiccough may be produced, and the
respiration is more considerably affected. In the lat¬
ter1 there occurs less pain ; and a vomiting is produ¬
ced, commonly by some inflammation communicated
to the stomach. The inflammation on the concave
surface of the liver may be readily communicated to
the gall-bladder and biliary ducts : and this, perhaps,
is the only case of idiopathic hepatitis attended with
jaundice.
Prognosis. The inflammation of the liver, like
others, may end by reselution, suppuration, or gan¬
grene ; and the tendency to the one or to the other of
those events may be known from what has been al¬
ready mentioned concerning the prognosis in gastritis.
The resolution of hepatitis is often the consequence of,
or is attended with, evacuations of different kinds. A
haemorrhage sometimes from the nose, and sometimes
from the haemorrhoidal vessels, gives a solution of the
disease. Sometimes the same thing is accomplished by
a bilious diarrhoea; and sometimes the resolution is
attended with sweating, and an evacuation of urine
depositing a copious sediment. Sometimes it may be
cured by an erysipelas appearing in some external part.
When the disease has ended in suppuration, the pus
collected may be discharged by the biliary ducts; or,
if the suppurated part docs not adhere anywhere close¬
ly to the neighbouring parts, it may be discharged
into the cavity of the abdomen ; but if, during the first
state of inflammation, the affected part of the liver shall
have formed a close adhesion to some of the neighbour¬
ing parts, the discharge after suppuration may be va¬
rious, according to the different seat of the abscess.
When seated on the convex part of the liver, if the ad¬
hesion be to the peritonaeum lining the common tegu¬
ments, the pus may make its way through these, and be
discharged outwardly : or if the adhesion shall have
been to the diaphragm, the pus may penetrate through
this, and into the cells of the lungs ; from whence it
may be discharged by coughing. When the abscess is
seated on the concave part of the liver, in consequence
of adhesions, the pus may be discharged into the
stomach or intestines ; and into these last, either direct¬
ly, or by the intervention of the biliary ducts. Lpon
a consideration of all these different circumstances,
therefore, together with the general principles of in¬
flammation, must the prognosis of this disease be esta¬
blished.
Cure. For the cure of hepatitis, we must have re¬
course to the general means of resolving other inflam¬
matory disorders. Bleeding is to be used according
to the degree of fever and pain. Blisters are to be
applied : fomentations of the external parts, emollient
clysters, gentle laxatives, diluents and refrigerants,
are also useful. The cure, however, particularly w
warm climates, where the disease is much more com¬
mon than it is in Britain, is chiefly trusted to mercury.
Not only in cases of the chronic kind, but in acute
hepatitis also, after an attempt has been made to al¬
leviate the urgent symptoms by bleeding and blister¬
ing, recourse is immediately had to this powerful mi¬
neral. It is employed by different practitioners, ami
MEDICINE.
Pi, ma- in different cases, under various forms. Some are
very fond of the use of calomel. But the preference
u-i is in general given, and perhaps with justice, to fric¬
tion with mercurial ointment over the region of the
}iver. But under whatever form it may be employed,
it is necessary that it should be introduced to such an
extent as to keep the patient on the verge of salivation
for some length of time 5 the duration being regulated
by the circumstances of the case.
From the liberal use of mercury, there can be no
doubt that a successful resolution has been obtained
in many cases, which would otherwise have infallibly
terminated in suppuration. But notwithstanding the
most careful employment of it in some cases, suppura¬
tion will ensue j and then it is very doubtful whether
any benefit will be derived from the continuance of it.
But when a suppuration has been formed, and the ab¬
scess points outwardly, the part must be opened, the pus
evacuated, and the ulcer healed according to the ordi¬
nary methods in use for healing abscesses and ulcers in
other parts.
Chronic hepatitis often terminates in scirrhus.
Against this, after mercury has failed, nitric acid
taken internally has sometimes been employed with
success.
Genus XVIII. SPLENITIS.
J Inflammation of the Spleen.
Splenitis, Sauv. gen. 114. Lin. 36. Vog. 59.
Junck. 67. (Sag. gen. 313.
Lienis inflammatio, Bocrh. 958. et Van Smitten,
Comm.
Splenitis phlegmonodaea, Sauv. sp. 1. Forest, 1. xx.
obs. 5, 6. De Haen, apud Van Swieten, p. 958.
Pleuritis splenica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Splenalgia suppuratoria, Sauv. sp. 3.
Description. This disease, according to Juncker,
comes on with a remarkable shivering, succeeded by a
most intense heat and very great thirst; a pain and
tumour are perceived in the left hypochondrium, and
the paroxysms for the most part assume a quartan form.
When the patients expose themselves for a little to
the free air, their extremities immediately grow very
cold. If a haemorrhage happens, the blood flows out
of the left nostril. The other symptoms are the same
with those of the hepatitis. Like the liver, the spleen
is also subject to a chronic inflammation, which often
happens after agues 5 and the tumour which succeeds
the inflammation is in many cases very considerable, and
is called the ague cake, though that name is also fre¬
quently given to a scirrhous tumour of the liver suc¬
ceeding intermittents.
Causes, &c. The causes of this distemper are in ge¬
neral the same with those of other inflammatory disor¬
ders ; but those which determine the inflammation to
that particular part more than another, are very much
unknown. It attacks persons of a very plethoric and
sanguine habit of body rather than others.
Prog nosis. What has been said of the inflammation
of the liver applies also to that of the spleen, though
the latter is less dangerous than the former. Here also
a vomiting of black matter, which in other acute dis¬
eases is such a fatal symptom, sometimes proves criti¬
cal, according to the testimony of Juncker. Sometimes
the haemorrhoids prove critical: but very often the in¬
flammation terminates by scirrhus.
Cure. J his is not at all different from what has been
already laid down concerning the hepatitis.
Genus XIX. NEPHRITIS.
Inflammation of the Kidneys.
Nephritis, Sauv. gen. 115. Lin. 37. Vog. 65.
Sag. gen. 314.
Nephritis vera, Sauv. so. 1.
Description. The nephritis has the same symptoms
which take place in other inflammations; but its di¬
stinguishing mark is the pain in the region of the kidney,
which is sometimes obtuse, but more frequently pun¬
gent. The pain is not increased by the motion of the
trunk of the body so much as a pain of the rheumatic
kind affecting the same region. It may also frequently
be distinguished by the pain shooting along the course
of the ureter, and it is often attended with a drawing
up of the testicle, and a numbness of the limb on the
side affected j though indeed these symptoms most com¬
monly attend the inflammation arising from a calculus in
the kidney or ureter. The disease is also attended with
frequent vomiting, and often with costiveness and colic
pains. The urine is most commonly of a deep red co¬
lour, and is voided frequently and in a small quantity at
a time. In more violent cases the urine is common¬
ly colourless.
Causes, &c. The remote causes of this disease may
be various; as external contusion, violent or long-
continued riding; strains of the muscles of the back
incumbent on the kidneys ; various acrids in the course
of circulation conveyed to the kidneys; and perhaps
some other internal causes not yet well known : the
most frequent is that of calculous matter obstructing
the tubuli uriniferi, or calculi formed in the pelvis of
the kidneys, and either sticking there or falling into the
ureter.
Prognosis. This is not different from that of other
inflammatory diseases.
Cure. When any of those causes operating as in¬
ducing the inflammation still continue to act, the first
object in the cure must be the removal of these j but
the principal intention to be had in view, is the resolu¬
tion of the inflammation which has already taken place.
But when, notwithstanding efforts for this purpose,
the disease terminates in suppuration, it must be the en¬
deavour of the practitioner to promote the discharge of
the purulent matter, and the healing of the ulceration
in the kidney.
These different objects are principally accomplished
by bleeding, external fomentation, frequent emollient
clysters, antiphlogistic purgatives, and by the free use
of mild and demulcent liquids. 1 he use of blisters is
scarce admissible, or at least will require great care to
avoid any considerable absorption of the cantharides.
The other species of nephritis enumerated by authors
are only symptomatic. _
vxENUS
203
M E D I
Genus XX. CYSTITIS.
Inflammation of the Bladder.
Cystitis, Sauv. gen. 108. Lin. 31. Vog. 66. Sag.
gen. 309.
Inflammatio vesicae, Hofl'm. ii. 157.
The Cystitis from Internal Causes.
Cystitis spontanea, Sauv. sp. I.
The Cystitis from External Causes.
Cystitis a cantharidibus, Sauv. sp. 2.
Cystitis traumatica, Sauv. sp. 3.
mus
CINE. _ Practi,
add to their distention, and increase their tendency to Rheum
inflammation.
Prognosis. An inflammation of the uterus may in
general be expected to produce an obstruction of the
lochia but the fever produced seldom proves fatal,
unless the inflammation be violent, and end in a gan¬
grene.
Cure. This is to be attempted by the same general
means already recommended, and the management of
this disorder entirely coincides with that of the puerpe¬
ral fever.
Genus XXII. RHEUMATISMUS.
The Rheumatism.
The inflammation of the bladder from internal causes
is a very i*are distemper; and when it does at any time
occur, is to be cured in the same manner with other
inflammations, avoiding only the use of blisters. When
the disease arises from the internaluse of these flies, cam¬
phor is recomfnended, besides other cooling medicines,
and particularly cooling and emollient clysters.
204 "Genus XXI. HYSTEMTIS.
Inflanlmation of the Uterus.
Hysteritis, Lin. 38. Vog. 63.
Metritis, Sauv. gen. 107. Sag. gen. 315.
Inflammatio et febris uterina, Hofl'm. II. 156.
Description. This disease is often confounded with
that called the puerperal or child-bed fever ; but is
essentially distinct from it, as will be shown in its pro¬
per place. The inflammation of the uterus is often
apt to terminate by gangrene: there is a pain in the
head, with delirium ; and the uterine region is so ex¬
ceedingly tender, that it cannot bear the most gentle
pressure without intolerable pain. When the fundus
uteri is inflamed, there is a great heat, throbbing, and
pain, above the pubes j if its ’posterior part, the pain is
more confined to the loins and rectum, with a tenesmus $
if its anterior part, it shoots from thence towards the
neck of the bladder, and is attended with a frequent ir¬
ritation to make water, which is voided Avith difficulty $
and if its sides or the ovaria are affected, the pains will
then dart into the inside of the thighs.
Causes, &c. Inflammations of the uterus, and in¬
deed of the rest of the abdominal viscera, are very apt
to take place in child-bed women; the reason of which
seems to be the sudden change produced in the habit,
and an alteration in the course of the circulating
blood by the contraction of the uterus after delivery.
The pressure of the gravid uterus being suddenly taken
off from the aorta descenders after delivery, the resist¬
ance to the impulse of the blood passing through all
the vessels derived from it, and distributed to the con¬
tiguous viscera, Avill be considerably lessened: it tvill
therefore rush into those vessels tvith a force superior
to their resistance j and, by putting them violently on
the stretch, may occasion pain, inflammation, and fe¬
ver. This contraction of the uterus also renders its ves¬
sels impervious to the blood which had freely passed
through them for the service of the child during preg-
iiancy j and consequently a much larger quantity Avill
be thrown upon the contiguous parts, which Avill still
3
Ilheumatismus, Sauv. gen. 185. Lin. 62. Vog. 138,
Boerh. 1400. Junck. 19.
I)olores rheumatici et arthritic!, Hofl'm. II. 317.
Myositis, Sag. gen. 301.
The Acute Rheumatism.
Rheumatismus acutus, Sauv. sy*. 1.
Ilheumatismus vulgaris, Sauv. sp. 2.
A. The Lumbago, or Rheumatism in the Muscles of J0(
the Loins.
Lumbago rheumatica, Sauv. gen. 212. Sag. p. 1.
Nephralgia rheumatica, Sauv. sp. 4.
B. The Sciatica, Ischias, or Hip-Gout. 40.j
Ischias rheumaticum. Sauv. 213. sp. 10.
' €. The Bastard Pleurisy, or Rheumatism in the i0;|
Mtiscles of the Thorax.
Pleurodyne rheumatica, Sauv. gen. 148. sp. 3.
■'Pleuritis Spuria, Boerh. 878.
The other species, which are very numerous, are all
symptomatic; as,
Lumbago plethorica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Ischias sanguineum, Sauv. sp. 2.
Pleurodyne plethorica, Sauv. sp. 1.
ilheumatismus hystericus, Sauv. sp. 7.
Ischias hystericum, Sauv. sp. 3.
Pleurodyne hysterica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Ilheumatismus saltatorius, Sauv. sp.
Pleurodyne flatidenta, Sauv. sp. 4.
Pleurodyne a spasmate, Sauv. sp. 9.
Rheumatismus scorbuticus, Sauv. sp. 4.
Lumbago scorbutica, Sauv. sp. 5.
Pleurodyne scorbutica, Sauv. sp. II.
Ischias Syphiliticum, Sauv. sp. 7.
Pleurodyne Venerea, Sauv. sp. 5.
Lumbago sympathica, Sauv. sp. 13.
Lumbago a saburr&, Sauv. sp. 8.
Pleurodyne a cacochylia, Sauv. sp. 7.
Rheumatismus saltatorius verminosus, Sauv. sp. 8.
Ischias verminosum, Sauv. sp. 8.
Pleurodyne verminosa, Sauv. sp. 2.
Rheumatismus metallicus, Sauv. sp. 10.
Lumbago a hydrothorace, Sauv. sp. 14.
Lumbago pseudoischuria, Sauv. sp. 16.
Pleurodyne a rupto oesophago, Sauv. sp. 20.
Pleurodyne rachitica, Saw. sp. 13.
Ischias d sparganosi, Sauv. sp. 5.
Pleurodyna catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 14.
Rheumatismus
ictice. M E D I
c^iia- Rheumatismus necroseos, Sauv. sp. 14.
i*. Rheumatxsmus dorsalis, Sauv. sp. 11.
V-^ Lumbago 5 satyriasi, »SWr. sp. 15.
Rheumatismus t’ebricosus, Sauv. sp. 9.
Lumbago febrilis, Sauv. sp. 4.
&c. &c.
Description. The rheumatism is particularly distin¬
guished by pains aflecting the joints, and for the most
pa* the joints alone ; but sometimes also the muscular
parts. Very often they shoot along the course of the
muscles from one joint to another, and are always much
increased by the action of the muscles belonging to the
joint or joints affected. The larger joints are those
most frequently afiected, such as the hip-joint and
knees, of the lower extremities, and the shoulders and
elbows of the upper ones. The ancles and wrists are
also fx-equently affected ; but the smaller joints, such as
those of the toes or fingers, seldom suffer. Sometimes
the disease is confined to one part of the body, yet
very fx'equently it affects many parts 5 and then it be¬
gins with a cold stage, which is immediately succeeded
by the other symptoms of pyrexia, and particularly by
a frequent, full, and hard pulse. Sometimes the pyrexia
is formed befox*e any pains are perceived; but more
commonly pains are felt in particular parts before any
symptoms of fever occur. When no pyrexia is present,
the pain may be confined to one joint only; but when
asy considerable pyrexia takes place, though the pain
may chiefly be felt in one joint, yet it seldom happens
that it does not affect several joints, often at the vexy
same time, but for the most part shifting their place, and
having abated in one joint they become more violent in
another. They do not commonly remain long in the
same joint, but frequently shift from one to another, and
sometimes return to joints formerly affected 5 and in this
manner the disease often continues for a long time.
The fever attending these pains has an exacerbation
evexy evening, and is most considerable during the
night, when the pains also become more violent j and
it is at the same time that the pains shift their place
from one joint to another. These seem to be also in¬
creased during the night by the body being covei’ed
more closely, and kept warmer.
A joint, after having been for some time affected
with pain, commonly becomes also affected with some
swelling and redness, which is painful to the touch. It
seldom happens that a swelling coming on does not
lake off the pain entirely, but it rarely secures the joint
against a return of it. This disease is commonly attend¬
ed with moi'e or less sweating, which occurs early, but
is seldom free or copious, and seldom proves critical,
though it may give temporary relief of the pain. The
Urine is high-coloured, and in the beginning without
sediment. This, however, does not prove entirely
critical, for the disease often continues long after such
a sediment has appeared in the urine. The blood is
always siz.y. The acute rheumatism differs from all
other inflammatory diseases, in not being liable to ter^-
inmate in suppuration : this almost never happens j but
tne disease sometimes produces eff usions of a transparent
gelatinous fluid into the sheaths of the tendons : but if
these effusions be frequent, it is certain that the liquor
must often be absorbed} for it very seldom happens,
that considerable or permanent tumours have been pi’o-
Vol. XIII. Part I.
CINE* 31 >
duced, or such as required to be opened and to have the Rheumatis-
contained fluid evacuated. Such tumours, however, mus-
have sometimes occurred, and the opening made in them ' 'l""r~v
has produced ulcex-s vexy difficult to heal.
Sometimes rheumatism will continue for several
weeks 5 but it seldom proves fatal, and it is rare that
the pyrexia continues to be considerable for more than
two °r three weeks. While the pyrexia abates in its
violence, if the pains of the joints continue, they are
less violent 5 more limited in their place, being confined
commonly to one or a few joints only j and are less
ready to change their place.
It is often a very difficult matter to distinguish rheu ¬
matism from gout: but in rheumatism there in general
occurs much less affection of the stomach j it affects
chiefly the larger joints, and several of these are often
affected with severe pain at the same time : it occurs
at an earlier period of life than gout j it is not observed
to be hereditary; and it can in general be traced to
some obvious exciting cause, particularly to the action
of cold.
Causes, &c. This disease is frequent in cold, and
more uncommon in warm climates. It appears most
frequently in autumn and spring 5 less frequently in
winter, while the frost is constant 5 and very seldom
during the heat of summer. It may, however, occur
at any season, if vicissitudes of heat and cold be for the
time frequent. For the most part, the acute rheuma¬
tism arises from the application of cold to the body
when unusually warm 5 or when the cold is applied to
one part of the body, whilst the other parts are kept
warm 5 or, lastly, when the application of the cold is
long continued, as when moist or wet clothes are applied
to any part of the body.—These causes may affect per¬
sons of all ages j but the rheumatism seldom appears
either in very young or in elderly persons, and most
commonly occurs from the age of puberty to that of
35. These causes may also affect persons of any consti¬
tution, but they most commonly affect those of a san¬
guine temperament.
W ith respect to the proximate cause of rheumatism,
there have been various opinions. It has been im¬
puted to a peculiar acrimony ; of which, however, there
is no evidence j and the consideration of the remote
causes, the symptoms, and cure, render it very impro¬
bable. A disease of a rheumatic nature, however,
may be occasioned by an acrid matter applied to the
nerves, as is evident from the toothach, a rheumatic
affection generally arising from a carious tooth. PainS
arising from deep-seated suppurations may also resemble
the rheumatism 5 and many cases have occurred in
which such suppurations occasioned pains resembling
the lumbago and ischias ; but from what has been al¬
ready said, it seems improbable that ever any pure
rheumatic case should end in suppuration.
The proximate cause of rheumatism has by many
been supposed to be a lentor in the fluids obstructing
the vessels of the part} but in the observations formerly
made, sufficient reasons have been already laid down
for rejecting the doctrine of lehtor. W bile we cannot
therefore find either evidence or reason for supposing
that the rheumatism depends on any change in the state
of the fluids, we must conclude that the proximate cause
of it is the same with that of other inflammations not
depending upon a direct stimulus.
-f. 0 H v In
314 M E D I
Plilegma- lu the case of rlieuniatism, it is supposed that the
si*: most common remote cause of it, that is, cold applied,
v operates especially on the vessels of the joints, these be¬
ing less covered by a cellular texture than those of the
intermediate parts of the limbs. It is farther supposed,
that the application of cold produces a constriction of
the extreme vessels, and at the same time an increase of
tone or phlogistic diathesis in the course of them, from
which arises an increased impetus of the blood, and at
the same time a resistance to the free passage of it, and
consequently inflammation and pain. It is also suppo¬
sed, that the resistance formed excites the vis medicatnx
to a further increase of the impetus of the blood ; and
to support this, a cold stage arises, a spasm is formed,
and a pyrexia and phlogistic diathesis are produced in
the whole system.
Hence the cause of rheumatism appears to be exactly
analogous to that of inflammations depending on an in¬
creased afflux of blood to a part while it is exposed to
the action of cold. But there seems to be further in
this disease some peculiar affection of the muscular fibres.
These seem to be under some degree of rigidity : and
therefore less easily admit of motion, and are pained
upon the exertions of it. This also seems to be the af¬
fection which gives opportunity to the propagation of
pains from one joint to another, and which are most
severely felt in the extremities terminating in the joints,
because beyond these the oscillations are not propagated.
This affection of the muscular fibres explains the man¬
ner in which strains and spasms produce rheumatic af¬
fections j and, on the whole, shows, that with an in¬
flammatory affection of the sanguiferous system, there is
also in rheumatism a peculiar affection of the muscular
fibres, which has a considerable share in producing the
phenomena of the disease. And it would even appear,
that in what has commonly been called acute rheuma¬
tism, in contradistinction to the chronic, of which we
are next to treat, there exists not only a state of active
inflammation in the affected parts, but also of peculiar
irritability ; and that this often remains after the in¬
flammation is very much diminished or has even en¬
tirely ceased. Hence a renewal of the inflammation
and recurrence of the pain take place from very slight
causes 5 and in the treatment of the disease both the
state of inflammation and irritability must be had in
view.
Cure. For counteracting the state of active inflam¬
mation, the chief aim of the practitioner must be to
diminish the general impetus of the circulation, and
the impetus at the part particularly aflected. For
counteracting the state of irritability, he must endea¬
vour to remove the disposition to increased action in
the vessels ; to prevent the action of causes exciting
painful sensations 5 and to obviate their influence on
the part. The cure therefore requires, in the first
place, an antiphlogistic regimen, and particularly a to¬
tal abstinence from animal food, and from all fermented
or spirituous liquors 5 substituting a mild vegetable or
milk diet, and the plentiful use of soft diluting liquors.
On this principle also, blood-letting is the chief remedy
of acute rheumatism. The blood is to be drawn in large
(quantity ; and the bleeding is to be repeated in pro¬
portion to the frequency, fulness, and hardness of the
pulse, and the violence of the pain. For tie most
1
CINE. Practic
part, large and repeated bleeding during the first daysRheuma
of the disease seem to be necessary, and accordingly muS.
have been very much employed \ but to this some
bounds are to be set 5 for very profuse bleedings occa¬
sion a slow recovery, and are ready to produce a chro¬
nic rheumatism.
To avoid that debility of the system which general
bleedings are apt to occasion, the urgent symptom of
pain may be often relieved by topical bleedings ; and
when any swelling or redness has come upon a joint,
the pain may very certainly be relieved by this eva¬
cuation : but as the pain and continuance of the disease
seem to depend more upon the phlogistic diathesis of
the whole system than upon the affection of particu¬
lar parts, so topical bleedings will not supply the place
of the general bleedings proposed above in most in¬
stances.
To take ofi’ the phlogistic diathesis prevailing in this
disease, purging may be useful, if procured by medi¬
cines which do not stimulate the whole system, as neu¬
tral salts, and other medicines which have a refrigerant
power. Purging, however, is not so useful as bleed¬
ing in removing the phlogistic diathesis } and when the
disease has become general and violent, frequent stools
are inconvenient, and even hurtful, by the motion and
pain which they occasion.
Next to blood-letting, nothing is of so much service,
both in alleviating the pains in this disease and in re¬
moving the phlogistic diathesis, as the use of sudo-
rifics : and of all the medicines belonging to this class,
what has commonly been known by the name of Do¬
ver’s powder, a combination of powder of ipecacuan
and opium, is the most convenient and the most el-
fectual. Copious sweating, excited by this medicine,
and supported for 10 or 12 hours by tepid diluents,
such as decoction of the woods, or the like, will in
most instances produce a complete remission of the
pain : and by this practice, combined with blood-letting
and proper regimen, the disease may often be entirely
removed.
If, however, after complete intermissions from pain
for some length of time have been obtained by these
means, it be found that there is a great tendency to a
return of the pains without any obvious cause, recourse
may be had with very great benefit to the use of the
Peruvian bark. By the early use of this, where a
complete intermission from pain is obtained, the ne¬
cessity of repeated blood-letting and sweating is often
superseded ; but where a complete remission cannot be
obtained, it has been suspected by some to be hurtful:
and in these cases, when blood-letting and sudonfics
have been pushed as far as may be thought prudent,
without being productive of the desired effect, very
great benefit is often derived from the use of calomel
combined with opium, as recommended in the Edin¬
burgh Medical Commentaries, by Dr Hamilton ot
Lynn Regis.
In this disease, external applications are of little
service. Fomentations in the beginning of the disease
rather aggravate than relieve the pains. The rube¬
facients and camphire are more effectual: but they
commonly only move them from one part to another,
and do not prove any cure of the general affection.
Blistering may also be very effectual in removing the
pain
m e n i
a. pain from a particular part j but will be of little
1 use, except where the pains are much confined to one
place.
arthrodynia, or Chronic Rheumatism.
Rheumatismus chronicus Auctorum.
Description. When the pyrexia attending the acute
rheumatism has ceased ; when the swelling and redness
of the joints are entirely gone, but pains still continue
to affect certain joints, which remain stiff', feel uneasy
upon motion, changes of weather, or in the night time
only, the disease is then called the chronic rheumatism,
as it often continues for a very long time.
The limits between the acute and chronic rheuma¬
tisms are not always exactly marked. When the
pains are still ready to shift their place *, w hen they
are especially severe in the night time; when, at the
same time, they are attended with some degree of py¬
rexia, and with some swelling, and especially some
redness of the joints; the disease is to be considered as
partaking of the nature of the acute rheumatism. But
when there is no longer any degree of pyrexia remain¬
ing ; when the pained joints are without redness j
when they are cold and stiff; when they cannot easily
be made to sweat ; or when, while a free and warm
sweat is brought out on the rest of the body, it is only
clammy and cold on the pained joints *, and when, fur¬
ther, the pains of these are increased by cold, and re¬
lieved by heat, applied to them ; the case is to be con¬
sidered as that of a purely chronic rheumatism : or, per¬
haps more properly, the first of the conditions now de¬
scribed may he termed the state of irritability, and the
second the state of atony.
The chronic rheumatism, or rather the atonic, may
affect different joints; but is especially apt to affect
those which are surrounded with many muscles, and
those of which the muscles are employed in the most
constant and vigorous exertions. Such is the case ol
the vertebrae of the loins, the affection of which is
named lumbago ; or of the hip joint, when the disease
is named ischias or sciatica.
Violent strains and spasms occurring on sudden and
'omewhat violent exertions, bring on rheumatic affec¬
tions, which at first partake of the acute, but very soon
change into the nature of the chronic, rheumatism.—
Such are frequently the lumbago, and other affections,
which seem to be more seated in the muscles than in
the joints. The distinction of the rheumatic pains
from those resembling them which occur in the siphylis
and scurvy must be obvious, either from the seat of the
pains, or from the concomitant symptoms peculiar to
those diseases. The distinction of the rheumatism from
the gout will be more fully understood from what is laid
down under the genus Podagra.
Causes, &c. The phenomena of the purely chronic
rheumatism lead us to conclude, that its proximate
cause is an atony both of the blood-vessels and of the
muscular fibres of the part affected, together with
>uch a degree of rigidity and contraction in the latter
as frequently attend them in a state of atony : and in¬
deed this atony, carried to a certain extent, gives rise
to a state of paralysis, with an almost total loss of mo¬
tion in the affected limbs. The paralytic state of
rheumatism therefore may be pointed out as a fourth
CINE. 31;;
condition of the disease, often claiming the attention of ilheumatis-
the practitioner. mus.
Cure, from the view just now given of the proxi- v
mate cause of chronic rheumatism, the chief indication
of cure must be, to restore the activity and vigour of
the part, which is principally to he done by increasing
the tone of the moving fibres, but which may some¬
times also be aided by giving condensation to the
simple solid. A\ hen, however, the disease has dege¬
nerated into the state of paralysis, the objects to he
aimed at are, the restoration of a due condition to the
nervous energy in the part affected ; the obtaining
free circulation of blood through the vessels of the
part; and the removal of rigidity in membranes and li¬
gaments.
For answering these purposes, a great variety of re¬
medies, both external and internal, are had recourse
to. The chief of the external are, the supporting the
heat of the part, by keeping it constantly covered with
flannel; the increasing the heat of the part by exter¬
nal heat, applied either in a dry or humid form ; the
diligent use of the flesh-brush, or other means of fric¬
tion ; the application of electricity in sparks or shocks ;
the application of cold water by affusion or immersion *,
the application of essential oils of the most warm and
penetrating kind ; the application of salt brine ; the
employment of the warm bath or of the vapour baths,
either to the body in general or to particular parts ;
and, lastly, the employment either of exercise of the
part itself as far as it can easily bear, or by riding or
other modes of gestation.
The internal remedies are, large doses of essen¬
tial oils drawn from resinous substances, such as tur¬
pentine ; substances containing such oils, as guaiac.;
volatile alkaline salts, &c. These or other medicines
are directed to procure sweat; and calomel, or some
other preparation of mercury, in small doses, may he
continued for some time. But of all the remedies which
have been found useful in atonic rheumatism, perhaps
the best is cinchona. It is particularly serviceable in
the earlier periods of ths disease. It has often been
highly efficacious in preventing the degeneracy of the
inflammatory into the atonic state of the disease ; and
by some practitioners,particularly Dr Haygarth ol Bath,
it has been highly extolled in acute rheumatism. Besides
these, there are several other remedies recommended.
The cicuta, aconitum, and hyosciamus, have in par¬
ticular been highly extolled ; and an infusion of the
rhododendron chrysanthum is said to be employed by
the Siberians with very great success. An account of
the Siberian mode of practice is given by Dr Matthew
Guthrie of Petersburgh, in the fifth volume of the
Edinburgh Medical Commentaries, and has been fol¬
lowed with success at other places. Among other in¬
ternal remedies for rheumatism, the use of arsenic has oi
late been recommended by Dr Bardsley of Liverpool.
It is advised to be given under the form of the mi¬
neral solution proposed by Dr lowler as a remedy in
intermittent fever and in periodic headachs. t nclei
this form, it is now ascertained by extensive experience
that arsenic may he taken internally with as much
safety as any other active medicine ; and in some cases
of rheumatism in which it has been employed at Edin¬
burgh, there is reason to believe that it has been pro¬
ductive of benefit.
R r 2 Genus
3i 6 M E D I
Phle^ma-
siaa. Genus XXIII. ODONTALGIA, the Toothach.
Odontalgia, Sauv. gen. 198. Lin. 45. Vog. 145.
Sag. gen. 159. Junck. 25.
Odontalgia sive rheumatisnius odontalgicus, Hoffm.
II- 33<?-
Odontalgia cariosa, Sauv. sp. 1.
Odontalgia scorbutica, Sauv. sp. 4.
Odontalgia catarrlialis, Sauv. sp. 3.
Odontalgia arthritica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Odontalgia gravidarum, Sauv. sp. 2.
Odontalgia hysterica, Sauv. sp. 8.
Odontalgia stomachica, Sauv. sp. 9.
Description. This well-known disease makes its at¬
tack by a most violent pain in the teeth, most frequent¬
ly in the molarcs, more rarely in the incisorcs, reaching
sometimes up to the eyes, and sometimes backward
into the cavity of the ear. At the same time there is
a manifest determination to the head ; and a remarkable
tension and inflation of the vessels takes place, not only
in the parts next to that where the pain is seated, but
over the whole head.
Causes, See. The toothach is sometimes merely a
rheumatic affection, arising from cold, but more fre¬
quently from a carious tooth. It is also a symptom of
pregnancy, and takes place in some nervous disorders ;
it may attack persons at any time of life, though it is
most frequent in the young and plethoric.
Cure. Many empirical remedies have been proposed
for the cure of the toothach, but none have in any
degree ansv/ered the purpose. When the affection is
purely rheumatic, blistering behind the ear will almost
always remove it; but when it proceeds from a cari¬
ous tooth, the pain is much more obstinate. In this
case it has been recommended to touch the pained
part with a hot iron, or with sulphuric acid, in order to
destroy the aching nerve ; to hold strong spirits in the
mouth j to put a drop of oil of cloves into the hollow
of the tooth, or a pill of equal parts of opium and
camphor: but one of the most useful applications of
this kind is strong nitrous acid, diluted with three or
four times its weight of spirit of wine, and introduced
into the hollow of a tooth from which great pain arises,
either by means of a hair pencil or a little cotton.
Cinchona has also been recommended, and perhaps with
more justice, on account of its tonic and antiseptic
powers $ but very often all these remedies will fail, and
the only infallible cure is the extraction of the tooth.
See Surgery.
an Genus XXIV. PODAGRA, the Gout.
Podagra, Cog. 175. Bocrh. 1254.
Febris podagrica, Vog. 69.
Arthritis, Sauv. gen. 183. Lin. 60. Vog. 139. Sag.
gen. 142.
Dolor podagricus et arthriticus verus, Hoffm. II.
339*
Dolores arthritici, Hoff'm, II. 317.
Affectus spastico-arthritici, Junck. 46.
- Sp. I. The Regular Gout,
Arthritis podagrica, Sauv. sp, 1.
CINE.
Arthritis rachialgica, Sauv, sp. 11,
Arthritis sestiva, Sauv. sp. 4.
Sp. II. The Atonic Gout.
Arthritis melancholica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Arthritis hiemalis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Arthritis ehlorotica, Sauv. sp. 5.
Arthritis asthmatica, Sauv. sp. 9.
Sp. III. The Retrocedent Gout.
Sp. IV. The Misplaced Gout.
Description. What we call a paroxysm oj the gout is
principally constituted by an inflammatory affection of
some of the joints. This sometimes comes on sudden¬
ly, without any warning, but is generally preceded by
several symptoms j such as the ceasing of a sweating
which the feet had been commonly before affected
with 5 an unusual coldness of the feet and legs j a fre¬
quent numbness, alternating with a sense of prickling
along the whole of the lower extremities; frequent
cramps of the muscles of the legs ; and an unusual tur-
gescence of the veins.
W hile these symptoms take place in the lower ex¬
tremities, the body is affected with some degree of
torpor and languor, and the functions of the stomach
in particular are more or less disturbed. The appe¬
tite is diminished; and flatulency, or other symptoms
of indigestion, are felt. These symptoms take place
for several days, sometimes for a week or two, before
a paroxysm comes on j but commonly, upon the day
immediately preceding it, the appetite becomes keener
than usual.
The circumstances of paroxysms are chiefly the fol¬
lowing. They come on most commonly in the spring,
and sooner or later according as the vernal heat suc¬
ceeds sooner or later to the winter’s cold, and, per¬
haps, sooner or later also, according as the body may
happen to be more or less exposed to vicissitudes of
heat and cold.
The attacks are sometimes felt first in the evening,
but more commonly about two or three o’clock in the
morning. The paroxysm begins with a pain affecting
one foot, most frequently in the ball or first joint of the
great toe, but sometimes in other parts of the foot.
W ith the attack of this pain, there is commonly more
or less of a cold shivering ; which, as the pain in¬
creases, gradually ceases j and is succeeded by a hot
stage of pyrexia, which continues for the same time
with the pain itself. From the first attack, the pain
becomes, by degrees, more violent, and continues in
this state with great restlessness of the whole body till
next midnight, after which it gradually remits; and,
after it has continued for twenty-four hours from the
commencement of the first attack, it commonly ceases
almost entirely} and, with the coming on of a gentle
sweat, allows the patient to fall asleep. The patient,
upon coming out of this sleep in the morning, finds the
pained part affected with some redness and swelling,
which, after having continued for some days, gradually
abate.
When a paroxysm has thus come on, although the
violent pain after 24 hours be considerably abated,
the patient is not entirely relieved from it. For some
days
Practiu
SI4
2I5
pr lice.
Ph ma- days he has every evening a return of more considerable
|i. pain and pyrexia, and these continue with more or less
»— “J violence till morning. After going on, in this manner,
for several days, the disease sometimes goes entirely off,
not to return till after a long interval.
When the disease, after having thus remained for
some time in a joint, ceases entirely, it generally
leaves the person in very perfect health, enjoying
greater ease and alacrity in the functions of both bo¬
dy and mind than he had for a long time before ex¬
perienced.
At the beginning of the disease, the returns of it are
sometimes only once in three or four year’s : but as it
advances, the intervals become shorter, and at length the
attacks are annual *, afterwards they come twice each
year; and at length recur several times during the
course of autumn, winter, and spring j and as, when the
fits are frequent, the paroxysms become also longer, so,
in the advanced state of the disease, the patient is hard¬
ly ever tolerably free from it, except perhaps for two or
three months in summer.
The progress of the disease is also marked by the
parts which it affects. At fii’st, it commonly affects
one foot only ; afterwards every paroxysm affects both
feet, the one after the other •, and as the disease pro¬
ceeds, it not only affects both feet at once, but, after
having ceased in the foot which was last attacked, re¬
turns again into the first, and perhaps a second time
also into the other. Its changes of places are not only
from one foot to another, but from the feet into other
joints, especially those of the upper extremities; so that
there is hardly a joint of the body which, on one occa¬
sion or another, is not affected. It sometimes affects
two different joints at the very same time ; but more
commonly it is at any one time severe in a single joint
only, and passes in succession from one joint to another;
so that the patient’s affliction is often protracted for a
long time.
When the disease has often returned, and the paro¬
xysms have become very frequent, the pains are com¬
monly less violent than they were at first; but the pa¬
tient is more affected with sickness, and the other
symptoms of the atonic gout, which shall be hereafter
mentioned.
After the first paroxysm of the disease, the joints
which have been aftected are entii'ely restored to their
former suppleness and strength : but after the disease
has recurred very often, the joints affected do neither
so suddenly nor entirely recover their former state, but
continue weak and stiff’; and these effects at length pro¬
ceed to such a degree, that the joints lose their motion
entirely.
In many persons, but not in all, after the disease has
frequently recurred, concretions of a chalky nature are
formed upon the outside of the joints, and for the most
part immediately under the skin. The matter seems
to be deposited at fii-st in a fluid form, afterwards be¬
coming dry and firm. In their firm state1, these con¬
cretions are a hard earthy substance, very entix-ely solu¬
ble in acids. After they have been formed, they con¬
tribute, with other circumstances, to destroy the mo¬
tion of the joints.
In most persons who have laboured under the gout
for many years, a nephritic affection comes on, and
discovers itself by all the symptoms which usually at-
317
tend calculous concretions in the kidneys, and which Podagra,
we shall have occasion to describe in another place. *11 1 v*~ •’
All that is necessary to be observed here is, that the
nephritic affection alternates with paroxysms of the
gout ; and that the two affections, the nephritic and
the gouty, are hardly ever present at the same time.
This also may be observed, that children of gouty 01*
nephritic parents commonly inherit one or other of
these diseases ; but whether the principal disease of the
parent may have been either gout or nephritis alone,,
some of the children have the one and some the other.
In some of them the nephritic affection occurs alone,
without any gout supervening ; and this happens to he
frequently the case with the female children of gouty
parents.
In the whole of the history already given, we have
described the most common form of the disease, and
which therefore, however divei’sified in the progress of
it, may be still called the regular state of the gout.—
Upon some occasions, however, the disease assumes
different appearances : hut as we suppose the disease
to depend always upon a certain diathesis, or disposi¬
tion of the system ; so every appearance which we can.
perceive to depend upon that same disposition, we still
consider as symptomatic, and view the disease to he a
case of the gout. The principal circumstance, in what
we term the regular gout, is the inflammatory affection
of the joints ; and whatever symptoms we can perceive
to he connected with, or to depend upon, the disposi¬
tion which produces that inflammatory affection, but
without its taking place or being present at the same
time, we name the irregular gout.
Of such irregular gout there are three different states,
which may be named the atonic^ the retrocedent, and
the misplaced gout.
The first is, when the gouty diathesis prevails in the
system ; but, from certain causes, does not produce the
inflammatory affection of the joints. In this case, the
morbid symptoms which appear, are chiefly affections
of the stomach, such as loss ol appetite, indigestion, and
its vai’ious attendants of sickness, nausea, vomiting, fla¬
tulency, acid eructations, and pains in the region ol the
stomach. These symptoms are frequently accompanied
with pains and cramps in several parts of the trunk and
the upper extremities of the body, which are relieved/
by the discharge of wind from the stomach. Toge¬
ther with these affections of the stomach, there com¬
monly occurs a eostiveness; but sometimes a looseness,
with colic pains. These affections ol the alimentary
canal are often attended with all the symptoms of hypo¬
chondriasis, such as dejection ot mind, a constant and
anxious attention to the slightest feelings, an imaginary
aggravation of these, and an apprehension ol danger from,
them.
In the same atonic gout, the viscera of the thorax
also are sometimes affected, and palpitations, laintingsv
and asthma occur.
In the head also occur headachs, giddiness, apoplec¬
tic and paralytic affections.
When the several symptoms now mentioned occur
in habits having the marks ol a gouty disposition,
this may he suspected to have laid the inundation fox
them ; and especially when either, in sucli^ habits, a
manifest tendency to the inflammatory affection has
formerly appeared, or when the symptoms mentioned
MEDICINE.
8
M E B I
Phlegma- ate intermixed with, and are relieved by some degree
of the inflammatory gout. In such cases there can
J be no doubt of considering the whole as a state of the
gout.
Another state of the disease we name the retrocedent
gout. This occurs when an inflammatory state of the
joints has, in the usual manner, come on, but without
arising to the ordinary degree of pain and inflamma¬
tion 5 or at least without these continuing for the usual
time, or without their receding gradually in the usual
manner ; these affections of the joints suddenly and en¬
tirely cease, while some internal part becomes aftected.
The internal part most commonly attacked is the sto¬
mach j which then is affected with anxiety, sickness,
vomiting, or violent pain : but sometimes the internal
part is the heart, which gives occasion to a syncope ;
sometimes it is the lungs, which are aftected with asth¬
ma : and sometimes it is the head, giving occasion to
apoplexy or palsy. In all these cases there can be no
doubt that the symptoms are all a part ol the same dis¬
ease, however difterent the affection may seem to be in
the parts which it attacks.
The third state of irregular gout, which -we name
the misplaced, is when the gouty diathesis, instead ot
producing the inflammatory affection of the. joints,
produces an inflammatory affection of some internal
part, and which appears from the same symptoms that
attend the inflammations ol those parts arising from
other causes.
Whether the gouty diathesis does ever produce such
inflammation of the internal parts without having first
produced it in the joints, or whether the inflammation
of the internal part be always a translation from the
joints previously aftected, we dare not determine j but,
even supposing the latter to be always the case, We
think the difference of the affection of the internal part
must still distinguish the misplaced from what we have
named the retrocedent gout.
With regard to the misplaced gout, Dr Cullen, whom
we here follow', tells us, that he never met with any cases
of it in his practice, nor does he find any distinctly
marked by practical writers, except that ol a pneumo¬
nic inflammation.
There are two cases of a translated gout \ the one
of which is an affection of the neck of the bladder,
producing pain, strangury, and a catarrhus vesicai: the
other is an affection of the rectum, sometimes indicated
by pain alone in that part, and sometimes by hemor¬
rhoidal symptoms. In gouty persons sucli affections have
been known to alternate with inflammatory affections
of the joints ; but w'hether these belong to the retroce¬
dent or to the misplaced gout, Dr Cullen pretends not
to determine.
It is commonly supposed, that there are some cases
of rheumatism which are scarcely to be distinguished
from the gout: but these, Dr Cullen thinks, are but
few 5 and that the two diseases may be for the most
part distinguished with great certainty, by observing
the predisposition, the antecedent circumstances, the
parts affected, the recux'rences of the disease, and its
connection with the system j which circumstances, lor
the most part, appear very differently in the two dis¬
eases.
Causes, &c. The gout is generally an hereditary
disease : but seme persons, without any hereditary dis-
CINE.
1CI
position, seem to acquire it ; and in some an hereditary Podagra
disposition may be counteracted from various causes.
It attacks the male sex especially j but it sometimes,
though more rarely, attacks also the female. The fe¬
males liable to it are those of the more robust and full
habits *, and it very often happens to those before the
menstrual evacuation has ceased. Dr Cullen hath also
found it occurring in several females whose menstrual
evacuations were more abundant than usual.
The gout seldom attacks eunuchs ; and when it does,
seems to fall upon those who happen to he of a robust
habit, to lead an indolent life, and to live very full. It
attacks especially men of robust and large bodies, who
have large heads, are of full and corpulent habits, and
■whose skins are covered with a thick rete mucosum,
which gives a coarse surface. To speak in the style of
the ancient physicians, the gout will seldom be found to
attack those of a sanguine, or such as are of a purely
melancholic temperament; but very readily those of a
cholerico-sangume temperament. It is, however, very
difficult to treat this matter with precision. The gout
seldom attacks persons employed in constant bodily
labour, or those who live much upon vegetable ali¬
ment. It does not commonly attack men till after
the age of 35; and generally not till a still later pe--
riod. There are indeed instances of the gout appear¬
ing more early, but these are few in comparison of
the others. When the disease does appear early in life,
it seems to be in those who have the hereditary disposi¬
tion very strong, and to whom the remote causes here¬
after mentioned have been applied in a very consider¬
able degree.
As the gout is an hereditary disease, and affects
men particularly of a certain habit, its remote causes
may be considered as predisponent and occasional.
The predisponent cause, as far as expressed by exter¬
nal appearances, has been already marked; and phy¬
sicians have been very confident in assigning the occa¬
sional causes : but in a disease depending so much up¬
on a predisposition, the assigning occasional causes
must he uncertain 5 as in the predisposed the occa¬
sional causes may not always appear, and in persons
not predisposed they may appear without effect 5 and
this uncertainty must particularly affect the case ol the
g°ut-
The occasional causes of the disease seem to be ot
two kinds. First, Those which induce a plethoric
state of the body. Secondly, Those which in ple¬
thoric habits, induce a state of debility. Of the first
kind are a sedentary, indolent manner of life, and a
full diet of animal food. Of the second kind of occa¬
sional causes which induce debility are excess in venery;
intemperance in the use of intoxicating liquors ; indi¬
gestion, produced either by the quantity or quality of
the aliments ; much application to study or business,
night watching, excessive evacuations 5 the ceasing ot
usual labour; a sudden change from a very full to a
very spare diet; the large use of acids and acescents j
and, lastly, cold applied to the lower extremities;
The former seem to act by increasing the predisposi¬
tion j the latter are commonly the exciting causes,
both of the first attacks, and of the repetitions of the
disease.
With respect to the proximate cause of the gout, it
lias generally been thought that it depends on a cer¬
tain
pikice.
MED!
-ma- tain morbific matter always present in the body ; and
^ that this matter, by certain causes, thrown upon the
J joints or other parts, produces the several phenomena of
the disease.
This doctrine, however ancient and generally re¬
ceived, appears to Dr Cullen to be very doubtful.
For,
First, There is no direct evidence of any morbific
matter being present in persons disposed to the gout.
There are no experiments or observations which show
that the blood or other humours of gouty persons are
in any respect different from those of the sound. Pre¬
vious to attacks of the gout, there appear no marks of
any morbid state of the fluids ; for the disease generally
attacks those persons who have enjoyed the most perfect
health, and appear to be in that state when the disease
comes on. At a certain period of the disease, a pecu¬
liar matter indeed appears in gouty persons 5 but this,
which does not appear in every instance, and which
appeal’s only after the disease has subsisted for a long
time, seems manifestly to be the effect, not the cause,
of the disease. Further, Though there be certain acrids
which, taken into the body, seem to excite the gout,
it is probable that these acrids operate otherwise in
exciting the disease, than by affording the material
cause of it. In general, therefore, Dr Cullen thinks
there is no proof of any morbific matter being the cause
of the gout.
Secondly, The suppositions concerning the particular
nature of the matter px-oducing the gout, have been so
various, and so conti’adictory, as to allow us to conclude,
that there is truly no proof of the existence of any of
them. With respect to many of these suppositions, they
are so inconsistent with chemical philosophy, and with
the laws of the animal economy, that they must be en¬
tirely rejected.
Thirdly, The supposition of a morbific matter as the
cause, is not consistent with the phenomena of the dis¬
ease, particulai-ly with its frequent and sudden transla¬
tions from one part to another.
Fourthly, The supposition is further rendered im¬
probable by this, that if a morbific matter did exist,
its operation should be similar in the several parts which
it attacks: whereas it seems to be very different, being
stimulant and exciting inflammation, in the joints j but
sedative and destroying tone in the stomach ; which,
upon the supposition of the same particular matter act¬
ing in both cases, is not to be explained by any difference
in the part affected.
Fifthly, Some facts alleged in proof of a morbific
matter, ai’e not confirmed ; such as those which would
prove the disease to be contagious. There is, however,
no proper evidence of this, the facts given being not
only few, but exceptionable, and the negative observa¬
tions innumerable.
Sixthly, Some arguments brought in favour of a
morbific matter are founded upon a mistaken explana¬
tion. The disease has been supposed to depend upon
a morbific matter, because it is hereditary. But the in¬
ference is not just: for most hereditary diseases do not
depend upon any morbific matter, but upon a particular
contormation of the structure of the body transmitted
trom the parent to the offspring ; and this last appears
to be particularly the case in the gout. It may be also
observed, that hereditary diseases depending upon a
CINE.
moi'bific matter, appear always much more early in life
than the gout commonly does.
Seventhly, The supposition of a morbific matter be¬
ing the cause of the gout, has been hitherto useless, as
it has not suggested any successful method of cure.
1 articular theories of gout have often corrupted the
practice, and have frequently led from those views
which might have heen useful, and from that practice
which experience had approved. Further, Though
the supposition of a morbific matter has been generally
received, it has been as generally neglected in prac¬
tice. When the gout has affected the stomach, nobody
thinks of correcting the matter supposed to be present
there, but merely of restoring the tone of the moving-
fibres.
Eightly, The supposition of a morbific matter is
quite supeifluous : for it explains nothing, without sup¬
posing that matter to produce a change in the state of
the moving powers ; and a change in the state of the
moving powers, produced by other causes, explains
every circumstance without the supposition of a morbific
matter ; and it may be observed, that many of the causes
exciting the gout, do not operate upon the state of the
fluids, but directly and solely upon that of the moving
powers.
Lastly, Dr Cullen contends that the supposition of
a morbific matter is superfluous •, because, without that,
the disease can be explained, he thinks, in a manner
more consistent with its phenomena, with the laws of
the animal economy, and with the method of cure
which experience has approved. We now proceed to
give this explanation •, but, before entering upon it,
we must premise some general observations which Dr
Cullen states.
The first observation is, That the gout is a disease of
the whole system, or depends upon a certain general
conformation and state of the body, which manifestly
appears from the facts above mentioned. But the ge¬
neral state of the system depends chiefly upon the state
of its pi’imary moving powers j and therefore the gout
may be supposed to be an affection of these.
The second observation is, That the gout is mani¬
festly an affection of the nervous system 5 in which the
primary moving powers of the whole system are lodged.
The occasional or exciting causes are almost all such
as act directly upon the nerves and nervous system j
and the greater part of the symptoms of the atonic or
reti'ocedent gout are manifestly affections ot the same
system. This leads us to seek for an explanation of the
whole of the disease, in the laws ol the nervous system,
and particularly in the changes which may happen in
the balance of its several parts.
The third observation is, That the stomach, which
has so universal a consent with the rest of the system,
is the internal part that is the most frequently, and
often very considerably, affected by the gout. 1 he pa¬
roxysms of the disease are commonly preceded by an af¬
fection of the stomach ; many of the exciting causes act
first upon the stomach ; and the symptoms of the atonic
and retrocedent gout aj-e most commonly and chiefly
affections of the same organ. This observation leads
us to remark, that there is a balance subsisting between
the state of the internal and that of the external parts j
and, in particular, that the state ot the stomach is con¬
nected with that of the external parts, so that the
state
320
Phlegma-
siie.
4 , 
M E D I
state of tone in the one may be communicated to the
other.
These observations being premised, Dr Cullen offers
the following pathology of the gout.
In some persons there is a certain vigorous and ple¬
thoric state of the system, which at a certain period of
life is liable to a loss of tone in the extremities. This
is in some measure communicated to the whole system,
but appears more especially in the functions of the sto¬
mach. When this loss of tone occurs while the energy
of the brain still retains its vigour, the vis medicatrix
naturce is excited to restore the tone of the parts ; and
accomplishes it, by exciting an inflammatory affection
in some part of the extremities. When this has subsisted
for some days, the tone of the extx-emities and of the
whole system is restored, and the patient returns to his
ordinary state of health.
This is the course of things in the ordinary form of
the disease, which we name the regular gout; but there
are circumstances of the body, in which this course is
Interrupted or varied. Thus, when the atony has taken
place, if the reaction do not succeed, the atony continues
in the stomach, or perhaps in other internal parts; and
produces that state xvhich Dr Cullen, for reasons now
obvious, named the atonic gout.
A second case of variation in the course of the gout
is, when to the atony the reaction and inflammation
have to a certain degree succeeded, but from causes
either internal or external the tone of the extremities
and perhaps of the whole system is weakened; so that
the inflammatory state, before it had either proceeded
to the degree, or continued for the time, requisite for
restoring the tone of the system, suddenly and entirely
ceases : whence the stomach, and other internal parts,
relapse into the state of atony} and perhaps have that
increased by the atony communicated from the extre¬
mities : all which appears in what has been termed the
retrocedent state of the gout.
A third case of variation from the ox*dinary course
of the gout, is, when to the atony, usually preceding,
an inflammatory x-eaction fully succeeds, but has its
usual determination to the joints prevented by some
circumstances ; and is therefore directed to some inter¬
nal part, where it produces an inflammatory allection,
and that state of things which we have named the mis¬
placed gout.
Though this theory of Dr Cullen’s be supported
with much ingenuity, yet we may confidently venture
to assert, that on this subject be has been less success¬
ful in establishing his own opinions, than in combating
those of others *, and this theory, as well as others
formerly proposed, is liable to numerous and unsur-
mountable objections. According to the hypothesis,
a vigorous and plethoric habit should in every case
exist prior to the appearance of gout; -which is by no
means consistent with fact: nor is it true that a vi¬
gorous and plethoric habit is liable at a certain age
to a loss of tone in the extremities ; which is another
necessary condition in the hypothesis. Loss of tone
often occurs in the extremities without exerting any
peculiar influence on the stomach ; and why a loss of
tone in the stomach should excite the vis niedieatrix na¬
turce to restore it, by exciting an inflammatory affec¬
tion in some part of the extremities, is vexy incon¬
ceivable. W ere the hypothesis true, evei’y dyspeptic
CINE. Practi(
patient should infallibly be aflected with gout; which, p0(la
however, is by no means the case. In shox-t, every step-y!
in the theory is liable to unsurmountable objections j
and it by no means, any mox*e than former hypothe¬
ses, explains the phenomena of the disease, particu¬
larly what Dr Cullen has himself so accurately point¬
ed out, the connection of gouty with calculous com¬
plaints.
A very ingenious work has lately been published by
an anonymous author, entitled “ A Ti'eatise on Gravel
and upon Gout}” in which the sources of each ai'e in¬
vestigated, and effectual means of preventing or re¬
moving these diseases recommended. In this treatise
an attempt is made to pi'ove, that both diseases de¬
pend upon a peculiar concx*eting acid, the acid of cal¬
culi, or the lithic or uric acid, as it has been styled by
some. He supposes this acid, constantly present to a
certain degree in the circulating fluids, to be precipita¬
ted by the introduction of other acids ; and in this man¬
ner he explains the influence of acid wines and other
liquox'S, as claret, cyder, &c. inducing gout j for he
considers the ch'cumstance chiefly constituting the dis¬
ease as being an inflammation in parts of which the
functions have been interrupted by the redundant acid
pi'ecipitated. Although this theory be supported with
much ingenuity, yet it is also liable to many objections.
The sudden attack of the affection ; its sudden tx-ansi-
tion from one part of the body to another j the instant
relief of one part when another comes to be affected j
and the various anomalous forms which the disease puts
on, having an exact x*esemblance to different affections;
are altogether irreconcileable to the idea of its depend¬
ing on any fixed obstruction at a particular part arising
from concreting acid. Nor does the plan of prevention
and cilre which he proposes, and which consists chiefly
in abstinence from acid, and in the destnxetion of acid,
by any means correspond in every particular to the best
established facts respecting the treatment of gout 5 to
which wTe next proceed.
Cure. In entering upon this, wTe must observe, in the
first place, that a cure has been commonly thought im¬
possible j and vre acknowledge it to be vei-y probable,
that the gout, as a disease of the whole habit, and very
often depending upon original conformation, cannot be
cured by medicines, the effects of which are always
very transitoxy, and seldom extend to the producing
any considerable change of the whole habit.
It would perhaps have been happy for gouty per¬
sons if this opinion had been implicitly received by
them; as it would have prevented their having been
so often the dupes of self-interested pretenders, who
have either amused them with inert medicines, or have
rashly employed those of the most pernicious tendency.
Dr Cullen, who has treated of the cure of the disease
with great judgment, as he has done the theory with
much ingenuity, is much disposed to believe the impossi¬
bility of the cux'e of the gout by medicines } and more
cei*tainly still inclined to think, that, whatever may be
the possible power of medicines, yet no medicine for
curing the gout has hitherto been found. Although
almost every age has presented a new remedy, all hither¬
to oflered have, xrery soon after, been either neglected
as useless, or condemned as pernicious.
But though unwilling to admit the power of medi¬
cines, yet he contends, that a gx-eat deal can be done
^ b towards
tice. M E D I
ma. towards the cure of the gout by a regimen : and lie
is firmly persuaded, that any man who, early in life,
—will enter upon the constant practice of bodily labour,
and of abstinence from animal food, will be preserved
entirely from the disease.
Whether there be any other means of radically cur¬
ing the gout, the Doctor is not able to say. There
are histories of cases of the gout, in which it is. said,
that by great emotions of mind, by wounds, and by
other accidents, the symptoms have been suddenly
relieved, and never again returned j but how far
these accidental cures might be imitated by art, or
would succeed in other cases, is at least extremely un¬
certain.
The practices proper and necessary in the treatment
of the gout, are to be considered under two heads :
First, As they are to be employed in the intervals of
paroxysms \ or, secondly. As during the time of these.
In the intervals of paroxysms, the indications are, to
prevent altogether the return of paroxysms ; or at least
to render them less frequent and more moderate. Dur¬
ing the time of paroxysms, the indications are, to mo¬
derate the violence and shorten the duration of them
as much as can be done with safety.
It has been already observed, that the gout may be
entirely prevented by constant bodily exercise, and by
a low diet 5 and Dr Cullen is of opinion, that this pre¬
vention may take place even in persons who have a he¬
reditary disposition to the disease. Even when the dis¬
position has discovered itself by several paroxysms of
inflammatory gout, he is persuaded that labour and
abstinence will absolutely prevent any returns of it for
the rest of life. These, therefore, are the means of an¬
swering the first indication to be pursued in the inter¬
vals of paroxysms.
Exercise in persons exposed to the gout, in Dr Cul¬
len’s opinion, operates by answering two purposes:
One of these is the strengthening of the tone of the
extreme vessels; and the other, the guarding against a
plethoric state. For the former, if exercise be em¬
ployed early in life, and before intemperance has weak¬
ened the body, a very moderate degree of it will an¬
swer the purpose •, and, for the latter, if abstinence be
at the same time observed, less exercise will be neces¬
sary.
With respect to exercise, this in general is to be ob¬
served, that it should never be violent j for if violent, it
cannot be long continued, and must always endanger
the bringing on an atony in proportion to the violence
of the preceding motions.
It is also to be observed, that the exercise of gesta¬
tion, though considerable and constant, will not, it it
he entirely without bodily exercise, answer the purpose
of preventing the gout. For this end, therefore, the
exercise must be in some measure that of the body j and
must be moderate, but at the same time constant and
continued through life.
‘ In every case and circumstance of the gout in which
the patient retains the use of his limbs, bodily exer¬
cise, in the intervals of paroxysms, will be always use¬
ful ; and in the beginning of the disease, when the
disposition to it is not yet strong, exercise may prevent
a paroxysm which otherwise would have come on. In
more advanced states of the disease, however, when
there is some disposition to a paroxysm, much walking
Vol. XIII. Part. I. t
CINE.
will bring it on ; either as it weakens the tone of the
lower extremities, or as it excites an inflammatory
disposition in them j and thus it seems to be that
sprains or contusions often bring on a paroxysm of the
gout.
Abstinence, the other part of the regimen for pre¬
venting the gout, is ot more difficult application. If an
abstinence from animal food be entered upon early in
life, while the vigour of the system is yet entire,* Dr
Cullen has no doubt of its being both safe and effectual;
but if the motive for this diet shall not have occurred
till the constitution has been broken by intemperance,
or by the decline of life, a low diet may then endanger
the induction of an atonic state.
Further, If-a low diet be entered upon only in the
decline of life, and be at the same time a very great
change from the former manner of living, the with¬
drawing of an accustomed stimulus of the system may
readily throw it into an atonic state.
The safety of an abstemious course will be greater
or less according to the management of it. Ani¬
mal food especially disposes to the plethoric and in¬
flammatory state, and that food is to be therefore
especially avoided ; but on the other hand, vegetable
aliment of the lowest quality is in danger of weak¬
ening the system too much by not'affording sufficient
nourishment, and more particularly of weakening the
tone of the stomach by its acescency. It is therefore
a diet of a middle nature that is to be chosen j and milk
is precisely of this kind, as containing both animal and
vegetable matter.
As approaching to the nature of milk, and as being
a vegetable matter containing the greatest portion of
nourishment, the farinaceous seeds are next to be cho¬
sen, and are the food most proper to be joined with
milk.
With respect to drink, fermented liquors are useful
only when they are joined with animal food, and that
by their acescency j and their stimulus is only neces-
sary from custom. When, therefore, animal food is
to be avoided, fermented liquors are unnecessary j and
by increasing the acescency of vegetables, these liquors
may be hurtful. The stimulus of fermented or spiri¬
tuous liquors is not necessary to the young and vigor¬
ous, and when much employed impairs the tone of
the system. These liquors, therefore, are to be avoid¬
ed, excepting as custom and the declining state ot the
system may have rendered them necessary. For prevent¬
ing or moderating the regular gout, water is the only
proper drink.
With respect to an abstemious course, it has been
supposed, that an abstinence from animal food and
fermented liquors, or the living upon milk and tari-
nacea alone for the space of one year, might be suf¬
ficient for a radical cure ot the gout: and it is possible
that, at a certain period of life, in certain circumstances
of the constitution, such a measure might answer the
purpose. But this is very doubtful: and it is more
probable, that the abstinence must, in a gi’eat measure,
be continued, and the milk diet be persisted in, for the
remainder of life. It is well known, that several per¬
sons who had entered on an abstemious course, and.
had been thereby delivered from the gout, have, how¬
ever, upon returning to their former manner of full
living, had the disease return Upon them with as much
S s violence-
d2i M E D I C I N E. PractB
Phlejrma- violence as before, or in a more irregular ami more dan-
sice. gerous form.
 ^ ~ It has been alleged, that, for preventing the return
of the gout, blood-letting or scarilications of the feet,
frequently repeated, and at stated times, may be prac¬
tised with advantage •, but of this Dr Cullen tells us he
has had no experience ; and the benefit of the practice
is not, as far as we know, confirmed by the observation
of any other practitioner.
Exercise and abstinence are the means of avoiding the
plethoric state which gives the disposition to the gout •,
and are therefore the means proposed for preventing the
paroxysms, or at least for rendering them less frequenfand
more moderate. But many circumstances prevent the
steadiness necessary in pursuing these measures 5 and
therefore in such cases, unless great care be taken to
avoid the exciting causes, the disease may frequently re-
turn, and, in many cases, the preventing of paroxysms
is chiefly to be obtained by avoiding those exciting
causes already enumerated.
A due attention in avoiding these different causes
will certainly prevent fits of the gout ; and the taking
care that the exciting causes be never applied in a great
degree, will certainly render fits more moderate when
they do come on. But, upon the whole, it will appear,
that a very strict attention to the general conduct of
life is in this matter necessary 5 and therefore, when
the predisposition has taken place, it will be extremely
difficult to avoid the disease.
Dr Cullen is firmly persuaded, that by obviating
the predisposition, and by avoiding the exciting causes,
the gout may be entirely prevented : but, as the mea¬
sures necessary for this purpose will, in most cases, be
pursued with difficulty, and even •with reluctance, men
have been very desirous to find a medicine which might
answer the purpose without any restraint on their man¬
ner of living. To gratify this desire, physicians have
proposed, and, to take advantage of it, empirics have
feigned, many remedies. Of what nature several of
these remedies have been, it is difficult to say : but of
those which are unknown, we conclude, from their
having been only of temporary fame, and from their
having soon fallen into neglect, that they have been
either inert or pernicious. We shall therefore make no
inquiry after them 5 and shall now remark only upon
one or two known remedies for the gout which have
been lately fashionable.
One of these is what has been named in England
the Portland powder. This is not a new medicine,
but is mentioned by Galen, and, with some little va¬
riation in its composition, has been mentioned by
the writers of almost every age since that time. It ap¬
pears to have been at times in fashion, and to have
again fallen into neglect; and Dr Cullen thinks that
this last has been owing to its having been found to
be, in many instances, pernicious. In every instance
which he has known of its exhibition for the length
of time prescribed, the persons who had taken it were
indeed afterwards free from any inflammatory affec¬
tion of the joints j but they were affected with many
symptoms of the atonic gout j and many, soon after
finishing their course of the medicine, have been at¬
tacked with apoplexy, asthma, or dropsy, which proved
fatal.
Another remedy which has had the appearance of
preventing the gout, is alkali in various forms ■, such as poda<)I
the fixed alkali, both mild and caustic, lime water,' 
soap, and absorbent earths j and of late the alkaline
aerated water has been more fashionable than any
other. Since it became common to exhibit these me¬
dicines in nephritic and calculous cases, it has often
happened that they were given to those who were at
the same time subject to the gout •, and it has been ob¬
served, that under the use of these medicines, gouty per¬
sons have been longer free from the fits of their disease.
That, however, the use of these medicines lias entirely
prevented* the returns of gout, Dr Cullen does not
know because he never pushed the use of them for a
long time, being apprehensive that the long-continued
use of them might produce a hurtful change in the state
of the fluids.
As the prevention of gout depends very much on sup^
porting the tone of the stomach, and avoiding indiges¬
tion ; so costiveness, by occasioning this, is very hurtful
to gouty persons. It is therefore necessary for such per¬
sons to prevent or remove costiveness, by a laxative
medicine, when needful; but it is at the same time
proper, that the medicine employed should be such
as may keep the belly regular, without much purging.
Aloetics, rhubarb, magnesia alba, oleum ricini, or
flowers of sulphur, may be employed, as the one or tha
other may happen to be best suited to particular per¬
sons.
These are the several measures to be pursued in the
intervals of the paroxysms j and we are next to mention
the measures proper during the time of them.
As during the time of paroxysms the body is in a
feverish state, no irritation should then be added to it 5
every part, therefore, of the antiphlogistic regimen,
except the application of cold, ought to be strictly ob¬
served.
An exception to the general rule, however, may oc¬
cur when the tone of the stomach is weak, and when
the patient has been much more accustomed to the use
of strong drink j for then it may be allowable, and
even necessary, to give some animal food and a lit¬
tle wine.
That no irritation is to be added to the system du¬
ring the paroxysms of gout, except in the cases men¬
tioned, is agreed upon among physicians : but it is a
more difficult matter to determine, whether, during
the time of paroxysms any measures may be pursued
to moderate the violence of reaction and of inflamma¬
tion. Dr Sydenham has given it as his opinion, that
the more violent the inflammation and pain, the pa¬
roxysm will he the shorter, as well as the interval be¬
tween the present and the next paroxysm longer j
and, if this opinion be admitted as just, it will forbid
the use of any remedies which might moderate the
inflammation j which is, to a certain degree, undoubt¬
edly necessary for the health of the body. On the
other hand, acute pain presses for relief; and although
a certain degree of inflammation may seem absolutely
necessary, there is reason to believe, a moderate degree
of it may answer the purpose *, and it is even pro¬
bable, that in many cases the violence of inflammation
may weaken the tone of the parts, and thereby invite
a return of paroxysms. It seems to be in this way,
that, as the disease advances, the paroxysms become
more frequent.
From
pi :tice.
M E D I
From these last considerations, it seems probable,,
that, during the time of paroxysms some measures
may be taken to moderate the violence of the inflam¬
mation and pain, and particularly, that in first pa¬
roxysms, and in the young and vigorous, blood-letting
at the arm may be practised with advantage : but this
practice cannot be repeated often with safety j because
blood-letting not only weakens the tone of the system,
but also contributes to produce plethora. However,
bleeding by leeches on the foot, and upon the inflamed
part, may be practised and repeated with greater safe¬
ty ; and instances have been known of its having been
employed with safety to moderate and shorten paroxysms j
but how far it may be carried, we have not had experi¬
ence enough to determine.
.Besides blood-letting and the antiphlogistic regimen,
it has been proposed to employ remedies for moderating
the inflammatory spasm of the part affected, such as warm
bathing and emollient poultices. These have sometimes
been employed with advantage ami safety 5 but, at other
times, have been found to give occasion to a retrocession
of the gout.
Blistering is a very effectual means of relieving and
discussing a paroxysm of the gout } but has also fre¬
quently had the effect of rendering it retrocedent.
The stinging with nettles is analogous to blistering;
and probably would be attended with the same danger.
The burning with moxa, or other substances, is a re¬
medy of the same kind; but though not. found hurtful,
there Us no suff icient evidence of its proving a radical
cure.
Camphor, and some aromatic oils, have the power
of allaying the pain, and of removing the inflammation
from the part affected: but these remedies commonly
make the inflammation only shift from one part to an¬
other, and therefore with the hazard of its falling up¬
on a part where it may be more dangerous ; and they
have sometimes rendered the gout retrocedent.
Among other remedies which have of late been
highly extolled during a paroxysm of gout, some have
recommended the use of strong purgatives frequently
repeated ; othei’s have highly extolled the assiduous ap¬
plication of cold water to the affected foot. But we
may safely venture to‘assert that both px-actiees are very
doubtful, if not very dangerous.
From these reflections it will appear, that some dan¬
ger must attend every external application to the parts
aflected during a paroxysm; and that therefore the
common practice of committing the person to patience
and flannel alone, is established upon the best founda¬
tion. Opiates give the most certain relief fr-om pain ;
but, when given in the beginning of goxxty paroxysms,
it has by some been thought that they occasion these
to return with greater violence. When, however, the
paroxysms shall have abated in their violence, but still
continue to return, so as to occasion painful and rest¬
less nights, opiates may he given with safety and ad¬
vantage ; especially in the case of persons advanced in
life, and who have been often affected with the dis¬
ease. When, after paroxysms have ceased, some swel¬
ling and stiffness still remain in the joints, these symp¬
toms are to be discussed by the diligent use of the
flesh-brush. Purging immediately after a paroxysm
will be always employed with the hazard of bringing
fr on again ; but keeping the belly gently open even
CINE. 32.
•during the continuance of the paioxysni is highly pro- Podagra
per. 1 '‘
I bus lar of the REGULAR, gout. We now proceed
to consider the management of the disease when it has
become irregular.
In the atonic gout, the cure is to be accomplished
by carefully avoiding all debilitating causes ; and by
employing, at the same time, the means of strengthen¬
ing the system in general, and the stomach in particu¬
lar.
For strengthening the system in general, Dr Cullen
recommends frequent exercise on horseback, and mo¬
derate walking. Cold bathing also may answer the
purpose.; and may be safely employed, if it appear to
be powerful in stimulating the system, and be not ap¬
plied when the extremities are threatened with any
pain.
For supporting the tone of the system in general,
when threatened with atonic gout, some animal food
ought to be employed, and the more acescent vege¬
tables ought to be avoided. In the same case, some
wine also may be necessary ; but it should be in mo¬
derate quantity, and of the least acescent kinds, and if
every kind of wine shall he found to increase the acidi¬
ty of the stomach, ardent spirits and water must be em¬
ployed.
For stx-engtliening the stomach, bittei'S and the Pe¬
ruvian bark may be used ; but care must be taken that
they be not constantly employed for any great length of
time.
The most effectual medicine for strengthening the
stomach is iron, which may be employed under various
preparations ; but the best appears to be the rust in fine
powder, which may be given in large doses.
For supporting the tone of the stomach, aromatics
may be exhibited ; but should be used with caution,
as the fi’equeut and copious use of them has an oppo¬
site effect; and they should therefore be given only in
compliance with former habits, or for palliating present
symptoms.
When the stomach happens to he liable to indiges¬
tion, gentle vomits may be frequently given, and pro¬
per laxatives should be always employed to obviate or
to remove costiveness.
In the atonic gout, or in persons liable to it, to
guard against cold is especially necessary ; and the most
certain means of doing this, is by repairing to a warm
climate during the winter season. In the more violent
cases, blistering the lower extremities may be useful;
but that remedy should be avoided when any pain
threatens the extx*emities. In persons liable to the
atonic gout, issues may he established in the extremities
as in some measure a supplement to the disease.
A second case of the irregular gout, is the retroce¬
dent.
When this affects the stomach and intestines, relief
is to he instantly attempted by the free use of strong
wines, joined with aromatics, and given warax; or, if
these shall not pxove powerful enough, ardent spirit-
must be employed, and are to be given in a large dose.
In moderate attacks, ardent spirits, impregnated with
garlic ox- with asafoetxda, may be used; or, even
without the ardent spirits, a solution of asafcetida.
with the volatile alkali, may answer the purpose. O-
piates are often an effectual remedy; .and may be
S s 2 joined
M E D I
joined with aromatics, as in the electuarium opiatum j
or they may be usefully joined with volatile alkali and
camphor. Musk has likewise proved useful in this
disease.
When the affection of the stomach is accompanied
with vomiting, this may be encouraged, by taking
draughts of warm water, at first with wine, and af¬
terwards without it 5 having at length recourse, if ne¬
cessary, to some of the remedies above mentioned, and
particularly the opiates.
In like manner, if the intestines be affected with
diarrhoea, this is to be at first encouraged by taking
plentifully of weak broth; and when this shall have
been done sufficiently, the tumult is to be quieted by
opiates.
When the retrocedent gout shall affect the lungs,
and produce asthma, this is to be cured by opiates, by
antispasmodics, and perhaps by blistering on the back
or breast.
When the gout, leaving the extremities, shall affect
the head, and produce pain, vertigo, apoplexy, or palsy,
our resources are very precarious. The most probable
means of relief is, blistering the head ; and, if the gout
shall have receded very entirely from the extremities,
blisters may be applied to these also. Together with
these blisterings, aromatics, and the volatile alkali, may
be thrown into the stomach.
The third case of the irregular gout is the misplaced;
that is when the inflammatory affection of the gout,
instead of falling upon the extremities, falls upon some
internal part. In this case, the disease is to be treat¬
ed by blood-letting, and by such other remedies as
would be proper in an idiopathic inflammation of the
same parts.
W hether the translation so frequently made from the
extremities to the kidneys, is to be considered as an
instance of the misplaced gout, seems uncertain: but
Dr Cullen is disposed to think it something different;
and therefore is of opinion, that, in the nephralgia cal-
culosa produced upon this occasion, the remedies of in¬
flammation are to be employed no farther than they
may be sometimes necessary in that disease, arising
from other causes than the gout.
Besides what have been mentioned, a variety of other
practices may be necessary and proper against the vari¬
ous anomalous symptoms, which are at times produced
by irregular gout. But of these we cannot propose to
treat. And we may conclude with observing, that in
every form of gout, the cure principally depends on
avoiding occasional causes, particularly luxury and la¬
ziness.
Genus XXV. ARTPIIIOPUOSIS.
Lumbago psoadica, Sauv. sp. 6. Fordijce, Practice
of Physic, part ii. p. 70.
Lumbago apostematosa, Sauv. sp. 12.
Lumbago ab arthrocace, Sauv. p. 17.
fschias ex abscessu, Sauv. sp. 6.
Morbus coxarius, De JIaen, Rat. Med. Vol. I.
C. xxxii.
This is a disease very much resembling the rheuma¬
tism ; but differing both from it and the gout, in that
it occasions suppurations, which they seldom or never
do. It frequently, according to Sauvages, attacks the
CINE. pj
psoas muscle ", and occasions excruciating pains, and
then collections of purulent matter.
The only cure, if suppuration cannot be prevented,
is to lay open the part where the matter is contained,
which would otherwise be absorbed, and occasion a
fatal hectic.
Order III. EXANTHEMATA.
Exanthemata, Sag. Class. X.
Phlegmasiue exanthematicae, Sauv. Class III. Qrd. I.
Morbl exanthematici, Lin. Class I. Ord. II.
Febres exanthematicse, Vog. Class I. Ord. II.
Genus XXVI. ERYSIPELAS.
St Anthony'1 s Fire.
Erysipelas, Sauv. gen. 97. Lin. 10. Sag. gen. 296.
Febris erysipelacea, Vog. 68. Hoffm. II. 98.
Sp. I. Erysipelas with Blisters.
Erysipelas roseum, Sauv. sp. 1. Sennert. de febr. lib.
ii. c. 15.
Febris erysipelatosa, Sydenham, sect. vi. cap. 5.
Erysipelas typhodes, Sauv. sp. 2.
Erysipelas pestilens, Sauv. sp. 5.
Erysipelas contagiosum, Sauv. sp. 9.
Description. The erysipelas of the face, where this
affection very frequently appears, comes on with a
cold shivering, and other symptoms of pyrexia. The
hot stage of this is frequently attended with a confu¬
sion of the head, and some degree of delirium $ and
almost always with drowsiness, and perhaps coma.
The pulse is always frequent, and commonly full and
hard.—When these symptoms have continued for one,
two, or at most three days, an erythema appears on
some part of the face. This at first is of no great
extent, but gradually spreads fi-om the part it first
occupied to the other parts of the face, till it has
affected the whole ; and frequently from the face it
spreads over the hairy scalp, or descends on some
part of the cheek. As the redness spreads, it com¬
monly leaves, or at least is abated in the parts it had
before occupied. All the parts which the redness
affects are also affected with some swelling, which
continues for some time after the redness has abated.
The whole face becomes considerably turgid 5 and the
eyelids are often so much swelled as entirely to shut
up the eyes. When the redness and swelling have
continued for some time, there commonly arise, sooner
or later, blisters of a larger or smaller size on several
parts of the face.. These contain a thin colourless li¬
quor, which sooner or later runs out. The surface of
the skin, in the blistered places, sometimes becomes li¬
vid and blackish j but this seldom goes deeper, or dis¬
covers any degree of gangrene affecting the cutis vera.
On the parts of the face not affected with blisters, the
cuticle suffers, towards the end of the disease, a con¬
siderable desquamation. Sometimes the tumour of the
eyelids ends in a suppuration.
The inflammation coming upon the face does not
produce any remission of the fever which had before
prevailed 5 and sometimes the fever increases with the
spreading and increasing inflammation. The inflamma-
p
E
u
ctice. M L 1) I
tion commonly continues for eight or ten days ; and
!taC" for the same time, the fever and symptoms attending
' it also continue. In the progress of the disease, the
delirium and coma attending it sometimes go on in¬
creasing, and the patient dies apoplectic on the seventh,
ninth, or eleventh day of the disease. In such cases
it has been commonly supposed, that the disease is
translated from the external to the internal parts..
But Dr Cullen thinks that the affection of the brain
is merely a communication from the external affection,
as this continues increasing at the same time with the
internal. When a fatal event does not take place,
the inflammation, after having affected the whole face,
and perhaps the other external parts of the head,
ceases, and with that the fever also j and, without
any other crisis, the patient returns to his ordinary
health. This disease is not commonly contagious j
hut as it may arise from an acrid matter externally
applied, so it is possible that the disease may some¬
times be communicated from one person to another;
and certainly there are several well authenticated in¬
stances of its prevailing in such a manner, even in par¬
ticular wards of hospitals, as to leave no doubt re¬
specting its contagious nature. Persons who have-
once laboured under this disease are liable to returns
of it.
Prognosis. The event of this disease may be fore¬
seen from the state of the symptoms which denote
more or less the affection of the brain. If neither
delirium nor coma come on, the disease is seldom
attended with any danger •, but when these symp¬
toms appear early in the disease, and are in a con¬
siderable degree, the utmost danger is to be appre¬
hended.
Cure. The erysipelas of the face is to be cured,
according to the opinion of most practitioners, much
in the same manner as phlegmonic inflammations j by
blood-letting, cooling purgatives, and by employing
every part of the antiphlogistic regimen. Many ob¬
servations, however, would lead us to conclude, that -
in not a few cases the concomitant fever has here a
tendency to the typhoid type j and therefore evacua¬
tions, apparently serviceable in the first instance, have
afterwards a bad effect. The evacuations of blood¬
letting and purging are to be employed more or less
according to the urgency of symptoms } particularly
those which mark an affection of the brain. As the
pyrexia continues, and often increases with the inflam¬
mation of the face, so the evacuations above mention¬
ed are to be employed at any time of the disease.
When, however, the fever, in place of marks ol the
phlogistic diathesis, particularly a full, hard, and strong
pulse, is attended with symptoms of great debility,
and with a small pulse easily compressible j evacua¬
tions, particularly under the form of blood-letting,
must be used with very great caution. Even in such
cases, however, the use of refrigerant cathartics may
still be persisted in with more safety and greater ad¬
vantage. But whether evacuants have been employed
or not, when symptoms of debility run to a great
height, and marks of a putrescent tendency appear,
recourse must be had to wine and the cinchona.
In cases which at the commencement require evacua¬
tion, these are often in the after periods employed with
very great benefit.
CINE. j2
In this, as in other diseases of the head, when that Peslis.
part happens to be the seat of erysipelas, it is proper -v—
to put the patient, as often as he can easily bear it,
into somewhat of an erect posture j and as there is al¬
ways an external affection, so various external applica¬
tions have been proposed to be made to the part affect ¬
ed } but almost all of them are of doubtful effect.
An erysipelas frequently appears on other parts of
the body besides the face, and such other erysipelatous
inflammations frequently end in suppuration 5 but these
cases are seldom dangerous. At coming on they are
sometimes attended with drowsiness, and even with some
delirium j but this seldom happens, and these symptoms
do not continue after the inflammation is formed ; and
Dr Cullen does not remember to have seen an in¬
stance of the translation of an inflammation from the
limbs to an internal part j and though these inflam¬
mations of the limbs be attended with pyrexia, they
seldom require the same evacuations as the erysipelas
of the face.
Sp. II. Erysipelas with Phlyctence..
Erysipelas zoster, Sauv. sp. 8.
ZonaAnglis, The Shingles, Russel de tab. gland,
p. 124. Hist. 35.
Herpes zoster, Sauv. sp. 9.
This differs from the former in no other way than
in being attended with an eruption of phlyctense or
small watery bladders on several parts of the body.—
The method of cure is the same.
Genus XXVII. PESTIS, the Plague.
Pestis, gen. 91. Lin. 2. Junck. 78.
Febris pestilentialis, Vog. 33. Hoffm. II. 93.
Pestis benigna, Sauv. sp. 2. Pestis Massiliensis,
Class III. Traite de la peste, p. 41. Ejusdem
pestis, Cl. 5ta, Traite, p. 228.
Pestis remittens, Sauv. sp. 9.
Pestis vulgaris, Sauv. sp. 1. Pestis Massil. Cl. II.
Traite, p. 38. Ejusd. Cl. III. et IV. Traite,
p. 225, &c. Waldschmidt. de peste Holsatica,
apud Halleri Diss. Pract. Tom. V. Chenot. de
peste Transylvanica, 1755, 1759, Be Haen, Rat.
Meds pars xiv.
Pestis Egyptiaca, Sauv. sp. 11. Alpin. de Med,
Egypt.
Pestis interna, Sauv. sp. 3* Pest. Massil. Cl. I.
Traite, p. 37—224,
History. Of this distemper Dr Cullen declines giv¬
ing any particular history, because he never saw it j
from the accounts of other authors, however, he is
of opinion, that the circumstances peculiarly charac¬
teristic of it, especially of its more violent and dan¬
gerous states, arc, 1. The great loss of strength in
the animal functions, which often appears eaily in the
disease. 2. The stupor, giddiness, and consequent
staggering, which resembles drunkenness, or the head-
ach and various delirium, all of them denoting a great
disorder in the functions of the brain. 3. Anxiety,
palpitation, syncope, and especially the weakness and
irregularity of the pulse, denoting a considerable di¬
sturbance in the action of the heart. 4. Nausea and
vomiting, particularly the vomiting of bile, which shows
aa %»
326 M E D I
Exantbe- an accumulation of vitiated bile in the gall-bladder and
mata. biliary ducts, and from thence derived into the in-
testines and stomachy and which denote a considerable
spasm, and loss of tone in the extreme vessels on the
surface of the body. 5. The buboes and carbuncles,
which denote an acrimony prevailing in the fluids;
and, lastlv, The petechia;, haemorrhages, and colliqua¬
tive diarrhoea, which denote a putrescent tendency pre¬
vailing in a great degree in the mass of blood.
To these characteristics of the plague enumerated
by Dr Cullen, we shall add one mentioned by Sir John
Pringle, which, though perhaps less frequent than
•the others, yet seems worthy of notice. It is this,
That in the plague there is an extraordinary enlarge¬
ment of the heart and liver. In nine dissections of
bodies dead of the plague at Marseilles, this extraor¬
dinary enlargement of the heart is taken notice of in
all of them, and of the liver in seven of them. The
account was sent to the Koyal Society by M. Didier,
one of the physicians to the king of France, and has
been published in the Philosophical Transactions. In
the first case, the author takes notice, that “ the heart
was of an extraordinary bigness; and the liver was of
double the natural size.—Case 2. The heart was of a
prodigious bigness, and the liver much enlarged.—-*
Case 3. The heart double the natural bigness.—Case 4.
The heart was very large, and the liver was bigger
and harder than ordinary.—Case 5. The heart was of
a prodigious bigness. Case 6. The heart was larger
than in its natural statey the liver also was very large.
—Case 7. The heart was of a prodigious size, and
the liver was very large.—Case 8. The heart was
much larger than natural, and the liver of a prodi¬
gious size.—Case 9. The heart was double the natural
bigness, and the liver was larger than ordinary.”—
•This preternatural enlargement, Sir J. Pringle thinks, is
owing to the relaxation of the solid parts, by which
means they become unable to resist the impetus of blood,
and therefore are easily extended 5 as in the case of in¬
fancy, where the growth is remarkably quick. And a
similar enlargement he takes notice of in the scurvy, and
•other putrid diseases.
A very elaborate work has lately been published on
the subject of the plague by Dr Patrick Russel, for¬
merly physician to the British factory at Aleppo. In
this work, a. very full liistory is given of the various
forms and varieties of the disease. He makes particular
observations on-the following symptoms, which, in ad¬
dition to the pestilential eruptions, he considers as the
most important concomitants of plague, viz. fever, deli-
Tuun, coma, impediment or loss of speech, deafness,
muddiness of the eyes, white tongue, state of the pulse,
respiration, anxiety, pain at the heart, inquietude, de¬
bility, fainting, convulsion, appearances of the urine,
perspiration, vomiting, looseness, and haemorrhage ; and
he concludes these remarks Avith some observations on
the occurrence of the plague with pregnant women.
-'1 o point out more distinctly the stable varieties of the
disease, lie arranges the pestilential cases which fell un-
tler his observation at Aleppo under six classes : and he
concludes his description Avith a very minute and parti-
. cular account of the pestilential eruptions, appearing
under the form either of buboes, carbuncles, or other
exanthemata. The presence of the tAvo first, he ob-
■sefves, either, separately or conjunctly, leaves the nature
2
C I N E. Pj
of the distemper unequivocal. But fatal has been the
error of rashly pronouncing a distemper not to be a
plague from their absence. Buboes affected the in¬
guinal, axillary, parotid, maxillary, and cervical glands.
But the first were the most commonly affected, and the
two latter seldom observed to swell, without either the
parotid SAvelling at the time, or soon after. Of the
carbuncles, Dr Russel describes five different varieties.
The other exanthemata, which he observed sometimes,
though less frequently, attending the plague, were pe¬
techias, a marbled appearance of the skin, an erysipe¬
latous redness, streaks of a reddish purple or livid co¬
lour, vibices or Aveals, and large blue or purple spots,
the maculce magrue of authors. In some cases, an ex¬
traordinary concurrence of eruptions took place, which
Avas chiefly observed among children under 10 years
of age.
Causes, &c. From a consideration of the symptoms
above mentioned, Dr Cullen concludes, that the plague
is OAving to a specific contagion, often suddenly pro¬
ducing the most considerable debility in the nervous
system, or moving poAvers, and a general putrescency
in the fluids. Dr Russel also considers the disease as
being universally the consequence of what may be call¬
ed pestilential contagion ; and has judiciously repelled
the objections Avbich have been brought against this
doctrine.
Prevention. Here avc must refer to all those me¬
thods of preventing and removing the incipient con¬
tagion of putrid fevers, Avhich have been so fully enu¬
merated. Dr Cullen is persuaded that the disease ne¬
ver arises in the northern parts of Europe, but in con¬
sequence of being imported from some other country.
The magistrate’s first care, therefore, ought to be, to
prevent the importation *, and this may generally be
done by a due attention to bills of health, and to the
proper performance of quarantines.—A\ ith respect to
the latter, he is of opinion, that the quarantines of
persons may with safety be much less than 40 days j
and if this Avere alloAved, the execution of the quaran¬
tine Avould be more exact and certain, as the tempta¬
tion to break it Avould be in a great measure avoided.
With respect to the quarantine of goods, it cannot be
perfect unless the suspected goods be unpacked, duly
A’entilated, and other means be employed for correct¬
ing the infection they may cany and if all this be pro¬
perly done, it is probable that the time commonly pre¬
scribed for quarantine may also be shortened.
A second measure in the Avay of prevention is re¬
quired, Avhen an infection has reached and prevailed in
any place, to prevent that infection from spreading in¬
to others. This can only be done by preventing the
inhabitants or the goods of any infected place from
going out of it till they have undergone a proper
quarantine.
The third measure, and which ought to be em¬
ployed with great care, is, to prevent the infection
from spreading among the inhabitants of a place in
which it has arisen. And in this case, a great deal
may be done by the magistrate : 1. By allowing as
many of the inhabitants as are free from infection, and
are not necessary to the service of the place, to go out
of it. 2. By discharging all assemblies, or unneces¬
sary intercourse of the people. 3. By ordering some
necessary communications to be performed Avithout
contact.
■■■■I
MEDICINE.
pi :tice.
. contact. 4. By m'aking such arrangements and pro-
a, visions as may render it easy for the families remaining
u- —' to shut tlremselves up in their own houses. 5. By al¬
lowing persons to quit houses where an infection ap¬
pears, upon condition that they go into lazarettos.
6. By ventilating and purifying, or destroying, at the
public expence, all infected goods. 7* Bv avoiding
hospitals, and providing separate apartments for infected
persons.
The fourth and last part of the business of preven¬
tion respects the conduct of persons necessarily remain¬
ing in infected places, especially those' obliged to have
some communication with persons infected. Those
obliged to remain in places infected, but not to have
any near communication with the sick, must avoid all
near communication with other persons or their goods ;
and it is probable, that a small distance will serve, if,
at the same time, there be no stream of air to carry
the effluvia of pex-sons or goods to some distance. Those
who are obliged to have a near communication with
the sick ought to av-oid any of the debilitating causes
which render the body susceptible of infection, as a
spare diet, intemperance in drinking, excess in venery,
cold, fear, or other depressing passions of the mind.
A full diet of animal food is also to be avoided, be¬
cause it increases the irritability of the body, and fa¬
vours the operation of contagion j and indigestion, whe¬
ther from the quantity or quality of the food, contri¬
butes very much to the same end.
Besides these, it is probable that the moderate use
of wine and spirituous liquors, moderate exercise, and
the cold bath, may be of use; tonic medicines also, of
which cinchona is deservedly accounted the chief, may
be used with some probability of success. If any
thing is to he expected from antiseptics, Dr Cullen
thinks camphor preferable to every other. In gene¬
ral, however, every one is to be indulged in the medi¬
cine of which he has the best opinion, provided it is
not evidently hurtful. W hether issues be useful in pre¬
serving from the efl’ccts of contagion, is a matter of
doubt. Dr Russel in his treatise enters veiy fully
into the consideration of the means of prevention,
both with respect to quarantines, lazarettos, and bills
of health. He is of opinion, that the present laws ou
these subjects are in many respects defective : and he
thinks, that a set of new x’egulations would have the
best chance of a deliberate and impartial discussion in
the senate, if the inquiry xvere taken at a time free
from all apprehension of immediate danger.
Cure. According to Dr Cullen, the indications ai-e
the same as in fever in general, hut ax*e not all equally
important. The measures for moderating the violence
ol reaction, which operate by diminishing the action ot
the heart and arteries, have seldom, he thinks, any
place here, excepting that the antiphlogistic regimen is
generally proper. Some physicians have recommended
bleeding, and Sydenham even seems to think it an ef¬
fectual cure j but Dr Cullen supposes, that for the most
part it is unnecessary, and in many cases might do much
hurt. Dr Russel, howevex*, who on this subject speaks
from experience and actual observation, is of a differ¬
ent opinion. With most of his patients, a single bleed¬
ing was employed with advantage} and even where
the sick under his inspection Avere bled oftener than
once, he did not find that the low state was therebv Pcstis.
Ixurried on. Purging has also been recommended; and —y~
in some degree it may be useful in drawing oil the
putrescent matter frequently px*esent in the intestines 'y
but a large evacuation in this way may certainly be
hurtful.
I he moderating the violence of reaction, as far1 as
it can be done, by taking oft the spasm of the ex-
treme vessels, is a measure, in Dr Cullen’s opinion,
oi tiic utmost necessity in the cure of the plague } and
the whole of the means formerly mentioned, as suited
to this indication, are extremely proper. rlhe giving
an emetic, at the first approach of the disease, would
probably be of great service ; and it is probable, that,
at some other periods of the disease, emetics might be
useful, both by evacuating bile abounding in the ali¬
mentary canal, and by taking oft’ the spasm of the ex¬
treme vessels. Indeed Baron Ash, and some other
of the Russian practitioners, represent the early and
repeated used of emetics as the only effectual mode of
cure.
According to the observations of Dr de Mertens,
who wrote a very interesting treatise on the fatal plague
which raged at Moscow in I771) anf^ which carried oft
upwards of 20,000 inhabitants in the space of one
month, emetics were often of the greatest service.
From some principles with respect to fever in gene¬
ral, and with respect to tire plague in particular, Dr
Cullen is of opinion, that after the exhibition of the
first vomit, the bodv should be disposed to sweat: hut
this swreat should be raised only to a moderate degree,
though it must be continued for 24 hours or more if
the patient bears it easily. The sweating is to he ex¬
cited and conducted according to the rules laid down
under SYNOCHA ; and must be promoted by the plentif
ful use of diluents rendered more grateful by vege¬
table acids, or more powerful by being impregnated
with some portion of neutral salts. To support the
patient under the continuance of the swreat, a little
weak broth, acidulated with the juice of lemons, may
be given frequently, and sometimes a little wine if
the heat of the body be not considerable. If sudorific
medicines he judged necessary, opiates will be found
more effectual and safe ; but they should not be com¬
bined with aromatics, and probably may be more effec¬
tual if joined with a portion of emetics and of neutral
salts. But if, notwithstanding the use of emetics and
sudorifics in the beginning, the disease should still con¬
tinue, the cure must turn upon the use of means for ob¬
viating debility and putrescence ; and for this purpose
tonic medicines, especially cinchona and cold drink, are
the most proper.
Genus XXVIII. VARIOLA.
The Smallpox. 223
Variola, Sativ. gen. 92. Lin. 3. Sag. gen. 29c.
Febris variolosa, Vog. 35. Hoffm. II. 49*
Variola;, ILicrh. 1371. Junek. 76.-
Sp. I. Distinct Smallpox. 223
Variola discreta benigna, Sauv. sp. 2.
Variolic regularej discrete, Sycknh. sect. iii. cap. 2.
Variolse
328
Exanthe¬
mata.
624
MED
Variolas discrete simplices, Ilelvet. Obs. sp. 1.
Variola discreta complicata, Sauv. sp. 2. Helvet.
sp. 2.
Variolas anomalae, Sydcrih. sect. iv. cap. 6.
Variola discreta dysenteriodes, Sauv. sp. 4. Sy-
dcnh. sect. iv. cap. 1.
Variola discreta vesicularis, Sauv. sp. 5.
Variola discreta crystallina. Mead de variol. cap. 2.
Variola discreta verrucosa, Sauv. sp. 6. Mead,
ibid.
Variola discreta siliquosa, Sauv. sp. 7. Fi'eind
°per. p.358. _
Variola discreta milians, Sauv. sp. 8. tielvet. Obs.
sp. 3.
Sp. II. The Confluent Smallpox.
Variola confluens, Sauv. sp. 9.
Variolse regulares confluentes, ann. 1667. Syden¬
ham, sect. iii. cap. 2.
Variolae confluentes simplices, Hclvet. Obs. sp. 1.
Variola confluens crystallina, Sauv. sp. 10.
Variola japonica, Kempfler.
Vesiculae divte Barbarae, C. Tin. Obs. 149.
Variola confluens maligna, Helvet. Obs. sp. 1.
Variola confluens cohaerens, Sauv. sp. 11.
Variola confluens maligna, Helvet. sp. 2.
Variola confluens nigra, Sauv. sp. 12. Sydenham,
sect. v. cap. 4.
Variola confluens maligna, Helvet. sp. 3.
Variola sanguinea, Mead de variolis* cap. 2.
Variola confluens corymbosa, Sauv. sp. 13.
Variola confluens maligna, Helvet. sp. 4.
Description. In the distinct smallpox, the disease
begins with a synocha or inflammatory fever. This
fever generally comes on about mid-day, with some
symptoms of a cold stage, and commonly with a consi¬
derable languor and drowsiness. A hot stage is soon
formed, and becomes more considerable on the second
and third day. During this course children are liable
to frequent startings from their slumbers j and adults,
if they are kept in bed, are disposed to much sweat¬
ing. On the third day, children are sometimes
affected with one or two epileptic fits. Towards the
end of the third day the eruption commonly appears,
and gradually increases during the fourth 5 appearing
first on the face, and successively on the inferior
parts, so as to be completed over the whole body on
the fifth day. From the third day the fever abates,
and by the fifth it entirely ceases. The eruption
appears first in small red spots hardly eminent, but by
degrees rising into pimples. There are generally but
few on the face j but, even when more numerous, they
are separate and distinct from one another. On the
fifth or sixth day, a small vesicle, containing an almost
colourless fluid, appears on the top of each pimple.
For two days these vesicles increase in breadth only,
and there is a small hollow pit in their middle, so that
they are not raised into spheroidical pustules till the
eighth day. These pustules from their first formation
continue to be surrounded with an exactly circular in¬
flamed margin, which, when they are numerous, diffuses
some inflammation over the neighbouring skin, so as to
give somewhat of a damask-rose colour to the spaces
between the pustules. As the pustules increase in size,
3
CINE. J'\ ■ Pr&ctii
the face swells considerably if they are numerous yario
on it 5 and the eyelids particularly are so much
swelled, that the eyes are entirely shut. As the disease
proceeds, the matter in the pustules becomes by degrees
more opaque and white, and at length assumes a
yellowish colour. On the nth day the swelling of
the face is abated, and the pustules seem quite full.
On the top of each a darker spot appears j and at this
place the pustule, on the nth day, or soon after, is
spontaneously broken, and a portion of the matter
oozes out $ in consequence of which the pustule is
shrivelled, and subsides j while the matter oozing out
dries, and forms a crust upon its surface. Sometimes
only a little of the matter oozes out, and what remains
in the pustule becomes thick and even hard. After
some days, both the crusts and the hardened pustules
fall off, leaving the skin which they covered of a
brownish red colour $ nor doth it resume its natural
colour till many days after. In some cases, where
the matter of the pustules has been more liquid, the
crusts formed from it are later in falling off, and the
part they covered suffers some desquamation, which oc¬
casions a small hollow or pit.
On the legs and hands the matter is frequently
absorbed j so that at the height of the disease, these
pustules appear as empty as vesicles. On the 10th
and nth days, as the swelling of the face subsides,
a swelling arises in the hands and feet 5 but which
again subsides as the pustules come to maturity.—
When the pustules on the face are numerous, some
degree of pyrexia appears on the 10th and nth
days ; but disappears again after the pustules are fully
ripened, or perhaps remains in a very slight degree
till the pustules on the feet have finished their course j
and it is seldom that any fever continues longer in the
distinct smallpox. When the pustules are numerous
on the face, upon the sixth or seventh day some uneasi¬
ness of the throat, with a hoarseness of the voice, comes
on, and a thin liquid is poured out from the mouth.
These symptoms increase with the swelling of the
face j and the liquids of the mouth and throat be¬
coming thicker, are with difficulty thrown out; and
there is at the same time some difficulty in swallowing,
so that liquids taken in to be swallowed are frequently
rejected or thrown out by the nose. But all these
affections of the fauces are abated as the swelling of
the face subsides.
In the confluent smallpox all the symptoms above
mentioned are much more severe. The eruptive fever
particularly is more violent 5 the pulse is more fre¬
quent and more contracted, approaching to that state
of pulse which is observed in typhus. The coma is
more considerable, and there is frequently a delirium.
Vomiting also frequently attends, especially at the
beginning of the disease. In very young infants
epileptic fits are sometimes frequent on the first days
of the disease, and sometimes prove fatal before any
eruption appears, or they usher in a very confluent
and putrid smallpox. But at the same time, it has
been justly remarked by Dr Sydenham, and other ac¬
curate observers, that epileptic attacks more frequently
precede distinct and mild than malignant and confluent
smallpox. The eruption appears in the confluent more
early on the third day, and it is frequently preceded or
accompanied with an erysipelatous efflorescence. Some¬
times
pr tice. M E D I C I N E.
I jie. time the eruption appears in clusters like the measles.
' ■M1- When the eruption is completed, the pimples areal-,
w —1 Ways more numerous upon the face, and at the same
time smaller and less eminent. Upon the eruption the
fever suffers some remission, hut never goes oil' entire¬
ly •, and alter the fifth or sixth day it increases again,
and continues to he considerable throughout the re¬
maining part of the disease. The vesicles formed on
the top of the pimples appear sooner-, and while they
increase in breadth, they do not retain a circular, hut
are every way of an irregular figure. Many of them
run into one another, insomuch that very often the
face is covered with one vesicle rather than with a
number of pustules. The vesicles, as far as they are
any way separated, do not arise to a spheroidal form,
but remain flat, and sometimes the whole of the face
appears an even surface. AN hen the pustules are in any
measure separated, they are not hounded by an in¬
flamed margin, but the part of the skin that is free
from pustules is commonly pale and flaccid. The li¬
quor that is in the pustules changes from a clear to an
opaque appearance, and becomes whitish or brownish,
hut never acquires the yellow colour and thick con¬
sistence that appears in the distinct smallpox. The
swelling of the face, which only sometimes attends
{he distinct smallpox, always attends the confluent
kind 5 it also comes on more early, and arises to a
greater height, but abates considerably on the tenth
or eleventh day. At this time the pustules or vesicles
break and shrivel ; pouring out at the same time a
liquor, which is formed into brown or black crusts,
which do not fall off for a long time after. Those
of the face, in falling off, leave the skin subject to a
desquamation, which pretty certainly produces pit-
tings. On the other parts of the body the pustules
of the confluent smallpox are more distinct than on
the face j but never acquire the same maturity and
consistence of pus as in the properly distinct kind.—
The salivation, which sometimes only attends the di¬
stinct smallpox, very constantly attends the confluent ;
and both the salivation and the affection of the fauces
above mentioned occur, especially in adults, in a higher
degree. In infants a diarrhoea comes frequently in
place of a salivation.
In this kind of smallpox there is often a very con¬
siderable putrescency of the fluids, as appears from
petechiae, from serous vesicles, under which the skin
shows a disposition to gangrene, and from bloody urine
or other haemorrhages 5 all of which symptoms fre¬
quently attend this disease. In the confluent small¬
pox also, the fever, which had only suffered a remission
irom the eruption to the maturation, at or immediate¬
ly after this period is frequently renewed again with
considerable violence. This is what has been called
the secondary fever, and is of various duration and
event.
Causes, &c. It is evident that the smallpox is origi¬
nally produced by a contagion and that this contagion
18 a ferment with respect to the fluids of the human
bouy, which assimilates a considerable portion of them
‘<0 its own nature : or, at least, we have every reason to
believe that a small quantity of contagious matter in¬
troduced, is sometimes multiplied and increased in the
■Circulating fluids of the animal body. This quantity
passes again out of the bodv, partly bv insensible per-
Vol. XIII. Part I. t
spiration, and partly by being deposited in pustules :
Ihe causes which determine more of the variolous mat¬
ter to pass by perspiration, or to form pustules, are
probably certain circumstances of the skin, which de¬
termine more or less ot the variolous matter to stick in
it, or to pass freely through it. The circumstance of
the skin, which seems to determine the variolous matter
to stick 111 it, is a certain state of inflammation de¬
pending much on the heat of it: thus we have many
instances ot parts of the body, from being more heated,
having a greater number of pustules than other parts.
Thus parts covered with plasters, especially those of
the stimulant kind, have more pustules than others.
—Certain circumstances also, such as adult age,
and full living, determining to a phlogistic diathesis,
seem to produce a greater number of pustules, and
vice versa. It is therefore probable, that an inflam¬
matory state of the whole system, and more particu¬
larly of the skin, gives occasion to a greater number of
pustules; and the causes of this may produce most of
the other circumstances of the confluent smallpox, such
as the time of eruption, the continuance of the fever,
the effusion of a more putrescent matter, and less fit
to be converted into pus, together with the form and
other circumstances of the pustules.
Prognosis. The more exactly the disease retains
the fori,! of the distinct kind, it is the safer; and the
more completely the disease takes the form of the
confluent kind, it is the more dangerous. It is only
when the distinct kind shows a great number of pu¬
stules on the face, or otherwise by fever or putres¬
cency, approaching to the circumstances of the con¬
fluent, that the distinct kind is attended with any dan¬
ger.
In the confluent kind the danger is always very
considerable ; and the more violent and permanent
the fever is, the greater the danger j and especially
in proportion to the increase of the symptoms of pu¬
trescency. AN hen the putrid disposition is very great,
the disease sometimes proves fatal before the eighth
day ; but in most cases death happens on the eleventh,
and sometimes not till the fourteenth or seventeenth
day.
Though the smallpox may not prove immediately
fatal, the more violent kinds are often followed by a
morbid state of the body, sometimes of very dan¬
gerous event. These consequences, according to Dr
Cullen, may he imputed sometimes to an acrid matter
produced by the preceding disease, and deposited in
different parts ; and sometimes to an inflammatory dia¬
thesis produced and detex-mined to particular parts of
the body.
Since the introduction of smallpox into Europe, thex-e
is perhaps no disease which has produced a greater num¬
ber of deaths. But, fortunately, a discovery is now made,
by which there is x-eason to hope that this loathsome dis¬
ease may be altogether extex-minated ; its prevention,
viz. by the inoculation of the vaccine or cowpox.
This most important discovexy we owe' to the suc¬
cessful exertions of Dr Edward Jenner 5 to whom, for
these exertions, repeated rewards have been voted by
the British legislature, but who unquestionably enjoys
a much higher reward in the satisfaction of having con¬
ferred an inestimable" blessing on the human spe¬
cies.
Tt
330 M E D I
Exan'Jic- For an account of the progress of this discovery, we
raata. must refer our readers to Dr Jenner’s publication. Here
wc s])all 0n]y observe, that it had long been remarked
in some parts of England, particularly in the neigh¬
bourhood of Berkley, where Dr Jenner resided, that
cows were liable to a pustular disease on their udders,
somewhat resembling smallpox j that this disease Avas
communicated by contact to the fingers of those em¬
ployed in milking the cows ; and, finally, that those
thus infected with cowpox, were completely protected
against the contagion of smallpox.
Founding on these observations, Dr Jenner ascertain¬
ed by experiment, that the inoculation of vaccine mat¬
ter was an infallible preventive of smallpox j and that
this vaccine matter had equal power in preventing va¬
riola when transferred from one human subject to an¬
other, as when obtained immediately from the cow.
It is not therefore wonderful that this practice of vac¬
cine inoculation should soon have become general,
both in Britain and in every quarter of the world.
Nor is it perhaps surprising, that it should have been
violently opposed by ignorant and obstinate men.
Hence numerous publications have of late appeared
both for and against this jiractice. Many mistakes have
undoubtedly been committed by ignorance and inatten¬
tion , and thus the preventive has been supposed to
fail. For the best account both of the method of per¬
forming the operation, of conveying the vaccine mat¬
ter from one place to another, and of the tests of con¬
stitutional affection in those cases in which the inflam¬
mation is slight, and in which no fever is perceptible,
we may refer our readers to a treatise published at E-
dinburgh in 1802, by Mr James Bryce, entitled Prac¬
tical Observations on the Inoculation of Cowpox.
Of the efficacy of vaccine inoculation as a preventive
of smallpox, few candid men tvill entertain any doubt,
after the following report on vaccination, from the
Jloyal College of Physicians in London, ordered to be
printed on the 8th of July 1807, by the British parlia¬
ment.
REPORT, &c.
CINE.  Practi
have, by public notice, invited individuals to contri- y ■
bute whatever information they had severally collected.1 
They have in consequence been furnished with a mass
of evidence communicated with the greatest readiness
and candour, which enables them to speak with confi¬
dence upon all the principal points referred to them.
I. During eight years which have elapsed since Dr
Jenner made his discovery public, the progress of vac¬
cination has been rapid, not only in all parts of the
united kingdom, but in every quarter of the civilized
world. In the British islands some hundred thousands
have been vaccinated, in our possessions in the East In¬
dies upwards of 800,000, and among the nations of
Europe the practice has become general. Professional
men have submitted it to the fairest trials, and the pub¬
lic have, for the most part, received it Avithout preju¬
dice. A few indeed have stood forth the adversaries
of vaccination, on the same grounds as their predeces¬
sors Avho opposed the inoculation for the smallpox,
falsely led by hypothetical reasoning in the investiga¬
tion of a subject which must be supported, or rejected,
upon facts and observation only. With these few ex¬
ceptions, the testimony in favour of vaccination has
been most strong and satisfactory, and the practice of
it, though it has received a check in some quarters, ap¬
pears still to be upon the increase in most parts of the
united kingdom.
II. The college of physicians, in giving their obser¬
vations and opinions on the practice of vaccination, think
it right to premise, that they advance nothing but
what is supported by the multiplied and unequivocal
evidence which has been brought before them, and
they have not considered any facts as proved but what
have been stated from actual observation.
Vaccination appears to be in general perfectly safe:
the instances to the contrary being extremely rare.
The disease excited by it is slight, and seldom prevents
those under it from folloAving their ordinary occupa¬
tions. It has been communicated Avith safety to preg¬
nant Avomen, to children during dentition, and in their
earliest infancy j in all Avhich respects it possesses mate¬
rial advantages over inoculation for the smallpox;
Avhich though productive of a disease generally mild,
yet sometimes occasions alarming symptoms, and is in a
few cases fatal.
The security derived from vaccination against the
smallpox, if not absolutely perfect, is as nearly so as
can perhaps be expected from any human discovery j
for amongst several hundred thousand cases, Avith the
results of which the college haAre been made acquaint¬
ed, the number of alleged failures has been surprising¬
ly small, so much so, as to form certainly no reasonable
objection to the general adoption of vaccination j for it
appears that there are not nearly so many failures, in a
given number of vaccinated persons, as there are deaths
in an equal number of persons inoculated for the small¬
pox. Nothing can moi*e clearly demonstrate the supe¬
riority of vraccination over the inoculation of the small¬
pox, than this consideration ; and it is a most import¬
ant fact, Avhich has been confirmed in the course of
this inquiry, that in almost every case, where the small¬
pox has succeeded vaccination, whether by inoculation
or by casual infection, the disease has varied much from
its ordinary course j it has^ieither been the same in the
A’iolence, nor in the duration of its symptoms, but has,
The Royal College of Physicians of London, hav¬
ing received his majesty’s commands in compliance
with an address from the house of commons, “ to in¬
quire into the state of vaccine inoculation in the united
kingdom, to report their opinion and observations up¬
on that practice, upon the evidence Avhich has been
adduced in its support, and upon the causes which have
hitherto retarded its general adoption ;—have applied
themselves diligently to the business referred to them.
Deeply impressed Avith the importance of an in¬
quiry which equally involves the lives of individuals,
and the public prosperity, they have made every exer¬
tion to investigate the subject fully and impartially. In
aid of the knowledge and experience of the members
of their own body, they have applied separately to each
of the licentiates of the college *, they have correspond¬
ed with the colleges of physicians of Dublin and Edin¬
burgh •, with the colleges of surgeons of London, Edin¬
burgh, and Dublin j they have called upon the socie¬
ties established for vaccination, for an account of their
practice, to what extent it has been carried on, and
what has been the result of their experience j and they
4
Pi¬
es
•tice. M E D I
tlie. with very few exceptions, been remarkably mild, as if
L. the smallpox had been deprived, by the previous vac-
J cine disease, of all its usual malignity.
The testimonies before the college of physicians are
very decided in declaring, that vaccination does less
mischief to the constitution, and less frequently gives
rise to other diseases, than the smallpox, either natural
or inoculated.
The college feel themselves called upon to state this
strongly, because it has been objected to vaccination,
that it produces new, unheard-of, and monstrous dis¬
eases. Of such assertions no proofs have been produ¬
ced, and, after diligent inquiry, the college believe
them to have been either the inventions of designing,
or the mistakes of ignorant men. In these respects
then, in its mildness, its safety, and its consequences,
the individual may look for the peculiar advantages of
vaccination. The benefits which flow from it to so¬
ciety are infinitely more considerable, it spreads no in¬
fection, and can be communicated only by inoculation.
It is from a consideration of the pernicious effects of
the smallpox, that the real value of vaccination is to be
estimated. The natural smallpox has been supposed to
destroy a sixth part of all whom it attacks j and that
even by inoculation, where that has been general in
parishes and towns, about one in 300 has usually died.
It is not sufficiently known, or not adverted to, that
nearly one-tenth, some years more than one-tenth of
the whole mortality in London, is occasioned by the
smallpox ; and however beneficial the inoculation of the
smallpox may have been to individuals, it appears to
have kept up a constant source of contagion, which has
been the means of increasing the number of deaths by
what is called the natural disease. It cannot be doubt¬
ed that this mischief has been extended by the inconsi¬
derate manner in tvhich great numbers of persons, even
since the introduction of vaccination, are still every
year inoculated with the smallpox, and afterwards re¬
quired to attend two or three times a-week at the
places of inoculation, through every stage of their ill¬
ness.
From this, then, the public are to expect the great
and uncontroverted superiority of vaccination, that it
communicates no casual infection, and, while it is a
protection to the individual, it is not prejudicial to the
public.
III. The college of physicians, in reporting their
observations and opinions on the evidence adduced in
support of vaccination, feel themselves authorised to state
that a body of evidence so large, so temperate, and so
Consistent, was perhaps never before collected upon any
medical question. A discovery so novel, and to which
there was nothing analogous known in nature, though
resting on the experimental observations of the inven¬
tor, was at first received v/ith diffidence : it was not,
however, difficult for others to repeat his experiments,
by which the truth of his observations was confirmed,
and the doubts of the cautious were gradually dispelled
by extensive experience. At the commencement of the
practice, almost all that were vaccinated were after-
Vvards submitted to the inoculation of the smallpox j
many underwent this operation a second, and even a
third time, and the uniform success of these trials
quickly bred confidence in the new discovery. But the
evidence of the security derived from vaccination against
CINE.
the smallpox does not rest alone upon those who after¬
wards underwent variolous inoculation, although a-
mounting to many thousands j for it appears, from nu¬
merous observations communicated to the college, that
those who have been vaccinated are equally secure,
against the contagion of epidemic smallpox. Towns,
indeed, and districts of the country in which vaccina¬
tion had been general, have afterwards had the small¬
pox prevalent on all sides of them without suffering
from the contagion. There are also in the evidence a
few examples of epidemic smallpox having been sup-
dued by a general vaccination. It will not, therefore,
appear extraordinary that many who have communicat¬
ed their observations should state, that though at first,
they thought unfavourably of the practice, experience
had now removed all their doubts.
It has been already mentioned, that the evidence is
not universally favourable, although it is in truth near¬
ly so, for there are a few who entertain sentiments dif¬
fering widely from those of the groat majority of their
brethren. The college, therefore, deemed it their du¬
ty, in a particular manner, to inquire upon what
grounds and evidence the opposers of vaccination rested,
their opinions. From personal examination, as well as
from their writings, they endeavoured to learn the full
extent and weight of their objections. They found
them without experience in vaccination, supporting
their opinions by hearsay information and hypothetical
reasoning $ and, upon investigating the, facts which
they advanced, they found them to be either misappre¬
hended or misrepresented ; or that they fell under the
description of cases of imperfect smallpox, before noti¬
ced, and which the college have endeavoured fairly to
appreciate.
The practice of vaccination is but of eight years
standing, and its promoters, as well as opponents, must
keep in mind, that a period so short is too limited to as¬
certain every point, or to bring the art to that perfec¬
tion of which it may be capable. The truth of this
will readily be admitted by those acquainted with the
history of inoculation for the smallpox. Vaccination is
now, however, well understood, and its character accu¬
rately described. Some deviations from the usual course
have occasionally occurred, which the author of the
practice has called spurious cowpox, by which the pub ¬
lic have been misled, as if there were a true and a false
cowpox 5 but it appears, that nothing more was meant,
than to express irregularity or difference from that com¬
mon form and progress of the vaccine pustule from
which its efficacy is inferred. Those who perform vac¬
cination ought therefore to be well instructed, and
should have Watched with the greatest care the regular
progress of the pustule, and learnt the most proper time
for taking the matter. There is little doubt that some
of the failures are to be imputed to the inexperience ot
the early vaccinators, and it is not unreasonable to ex¬
pect that farther observation will yet suggest many im¬
provements that will reduce the number ol anomalous
cases, and furnish the means of determining, with great¬
er precision, when the vaccine disease lias been effec¬
tually received.
Though the college of physicians have confined them¬
selves in estimating the evidence to such facts as have
occurred in their own country, because the accuracy of
them could best be ascertained, they cannot be irisensi-
T t 2 hib
v")
Variola.
M E D I c I n e.
ble to the confirmation these receive from the reports of
the successful introduction of vaccination, not only into
every part of Europe, but throughout die vast continents
of Asia and America.
IV. Several causes have had a partial operation in re¬
tarding the general adoption of vaccination } some writ¬
ers have greatly undervalued the security it affords,
while others have considered it to be of a temporary na¬
ture only j but if any reliance is to be placed on the
statements which have been laid before the college, its
power of protecting the human body from the small¬
pox, though not perfect indeed, is abundantly sufficient
to recommend it to the prudent and dispassionate, espe¬
cially as the smallpox, in the few instances where it has
subsequently occurred, has been generally mild and
transient. The opinion that vaccination affords but a
temporary security is supported by no analogy in na¬
ture, nor by the facts which have hitherto occurred.
Although the experience of vaccine inoculation be on¬
ly of a few years, yet the same disease, contracted by
the milkers of coavs in some districts, has been long
enough known, to ascertain that, in them at least, the
unsusceptibility of the smallpox contagion does not wear
out by time.
Another cause, is the charge against vaccination of
producing various newT diseases of frightful and monstrous
appearance. Representations of some of these have been
exhibited in prints in a Avay to alarm the feelings of pa¬
rents, and to infuse dread and apprehension into the minds
of the uninformed. Publications with such representa¬
tions have been widely circulated, and though they origi¬
nate either in gross ignorance, or wilful misrepresentation,
yet they have lessened the confidence of many, particu¬
larly of the lower classes, in vaccination 5 no permanent
effects, however", in retarding the progress of vaccina¬
tion, need be apprehended from such causes, for, as
soon as the public shall view them coolly and Avithout
surprise, they Avill excite contempt, and not fear.
Though the college of physicians are of opinion that
the progress of vaccination has been retarded in a feAV
places by the above causes, yet they conceive that its
general adoption has been prevented by causes far
more poAverful, and of a nature wholly different. The
lower orders of society can hardly be induced to adopt
precautions against evils which may be at a distance $
nor can it be expected from them, if these precautions
are attended with expence. Unless, therefore, from
(lie immediate dread of epidemic smallpox, neither vac¬
cination nor inoculation appear at any time to have
been general, and when the cause of terror has passed
by, the public have relapsed again into a state of indif¬
ference and apathy, and the salutary practice has come
to a stand. It is not easy to suggest a remedy for an
evil so deeply imprinted in human nature. To inform
and instruct the public mind may do much, and it will
probably be found that the progress of vaccination in
different parts of the united kingdom will be in propor¬
tion to that instruction. Were encouragement given to
vaccination, by offering it to the poorer classes without
ex pence, there is little doubt but it Avould in time su¬
persede the inoculation for the smallpox, and thereby
various sources of variolous infection would be cut off j
but till vaccination becomes general, it will be impos¬
sible to prevent the constant recurrence of the natural
smallpox by means of those who are inoculated, except
Fl¬
it should appear proper to the legislature to adopt, in
its wisdom, some measure by which those Avho still,
from terror or prejudice, prefer the smallpox to the
vaccine disease, may, in thus consulting the gratifica¬
tion of their own feelings, be prevented from doing mis¬
chief to their neighbours.
From the whole of the above considerations, the col¬
lege of physicians feel it their duty strongly to recom¬
mend the practice of vaccination. They have been
led to this conclusion by no preconceived opinion, but
by the most unbiassed judgment, formed from an irre¬
sistible weight of evidence Avhich has been laid before
them. For when the number, the respectability, the
disinterestedness, and the extensive experience of its ad¬
vocates, is compared Avxth the feeble and imperfect tes¬
timonies of its few opposers ; and when it is considered
that many, avIio were once adverse to vaccination, have
been convinced by further trials, and are now to be
ranked among its warmest supporters, the truth seems
to be established as firmly as the nature of such a ques¬
tion admits ; so that the college of physicians conceive
that the public may reasonably look fonvard Avith some
degree of hope to the time Avhen all opposition shall
cease, and the general concurrence of mankind shall at
length be able to put an end to the ravages at least, if
not to the existence, of the smallpox.
LUCAS PEPYS, President.
Royal College of Physicians, 7
icth of April, 1S07. y
Ja. Hervey, Register.
APPENDIX.
N° 1.
To the Royal College of Physicians of London.
Gentlemen,
I am ordered by the King and Queen’s College of
Physicians, in Ireland, to thank the Royal College of
Physicians of London for the communication they have
had the honour to receive from them, of certain propo¬
sitions relative to vaccination, Avhereon his majesty has
been pleased to direct an enquiry to be instituted, and
in the prosecution of which, the co-operation of the
college in Ireland is requested.
And I am directed to acquaint you, that the said
college having referred the investigations of these pro¬
positions to a committee, have received from them a re¬
port, of which the inclosed is a copy j and that they
desire the same may be considered as containing their
opinion upon the subject.
I have the honour to be,
Gentlemen,
Y our most obedient humble servant,
By order of the King and Hugh Ferguson,
Queen’s College of Phy- Register.
sicians in Ireland.
Dublin, nth Nov. 1806.
i he practice of vaccination was introduced into
this
Pr -tice.
MEDICI N E.
rjtlie- tills city about the beginning of the year 1801, and ap-
„ a. pears to have made inconsiderable progress at first. A
^ variety of causes operated to retard its general adoption,
amongst which the novelty of the practice, and the ex¬
traordinary elfects attributed to vaccination, would na¬
turally take the lead.
“ Variolous inoculation had been long, almost exclu¬
sively, in the hands of a particular branch of the pro¬
fession, whose prejudices and interests were strongly op¬
posed to the new practice; and by their being the usual
medical attendants in families, and especially employed
in the diseases of children, their opinions had greater
effect upon the minds of parents. The smallpox is ren¬
dered a much less formidable disease in this country by
the frequency of inoculation for it, than it is in other
parts of his majesty’s dominions, where prejudices
against inoculation have prevailed ; hence parents, not
unnaturally, objected to the introduction of a new dis¬
ease, rather than not recur to that, with the mildness
and safety of which they were well acquainted.
“ In the beginning of the year 1804, the cowrpox in¬
stitution was established under the patronage of the earl
of Hardwicke, and it is from this period that wre may
date the general introduction of vaccination into this
city, and throughout all parts of Ireland.
“ The success of the institution, in forwarding the
new practice, is to be attributed in a great measure to
the respectability of the gentlemen who superintended
it, and to the diligence, zeal, and attention of Dr La-
batt, their secretary and inoculator. In order to shew
the progress which has been made in extending vacci¬
nation, your committee refer to the reports of the Cowpox
Institution for the last two years, and to extracts from
their register for the present year.
Patients
Inoculated.
Packets issued
to Practition¬
ers in general.
Packets to
Army
Surgeons.
1804
1805
1806
578
103 2
T356
776
1124
1340
236
178
220
Total
2966
3240
634
“ In the above statement, the numbers are averaged
to the end of the present year, on the supposition of pa¬
tients resorting to the institution as usual. The corre¬
spondence of the institution appears to be very general
throughout every part of Ireland, and by the accounts
received, as well from medical practitioners as others,
the success of vaccination seems to be uniform and ef¬
fectual. At the present period, in the opinion of your
committee, there are few individuals in any branch of
the profession, who oppose the practice of vaccination
in this part of his majesty’s dominions.
u It is the opinion of your committee, that the prac¬
tice of cowpox inoculation is safe, and that it fully
answers all the purposes that have been intended by its
introduction. At the same time, your committee is
willing to allow that doubtful cases have been reported
to them as having occurred, of persons suffering from
smallpox, who have been previously vaccinated. Upon
minute investigation, however, it has been found, that
1 icse supposed instances originated generally in error,
misrepresentation, or the difficulty of discriminating
>etween smallpox and other eruptions, no case having
come to the knowledge ot your committee, dulv authen¬
ticated by respectable and competent judges, of genuine
smallpox succeeding the regular vaccine disease.
I he practice of vaccination becomes every day
more extended ; and, when it is considered that the
period at which it came into general use in Ireland is to
be reckoned from so late a date, your committee is of
opinion, that it has made already as rapid a progress as
could be expected.
(Signed) “ James Cleghorn.
“ Daniel Mills.
“ Hugh Ferguson.”
N° II.
Physicians Hall, Edinburgh 26th Nov. 1806.
Gentlemen,
1 HL Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh have
but little opportunity themselves of making observations
on vaccination, as that practice is entirely conducted
by surgeon apothecaries, and other medical practitioners
not of their college, and as the effects produced by it
are so inconsiderable and slight, that the aid of a phy¬
sician is never required.
I he College know that in Edinburgh it is universal¬
ly approved of by the profession, and by the higher and
middle ranks of the community; and that it has been
much more generally adopted by the lower orders of
the people than ever the inoculation for smallpox
was, and they believe the same to obtain all over Scot¬
land.
With regard to any causes which have hitherto pre¬
vented its general adoption, they are acquainted with
none except the negligence or ignorance of parents
among the common people, or their mistaken ideas of
the impropriety or criminality of being accessary to the
production of any disease among their children, or the
difficulty or impossibility, in some of our country di¬
stricts, of procuring vaccine matter, or a proper person
to inoculate.
The evidence in favour of vaccination appeared to
the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh so strong
and decisive, that in May last, they spontaneously and
unanimously elected Dr Jenner an honorary fellow of
their college ;—a mark of distinction which they very
rarely confer, and which they confine almost exclusively
to foreign physicians of the first eminence.
They did this with a view to publish their opinion
with regard to vaccination, and in testimony of their
conviction of the immense benefits which have been,
and which will in future be derived to the world, from
inoculation for the cowpox, and as a mark ol their
sense of Dr Jenner’s very great merits and ability in
introducing and promoting this invaluable practice.
I have the honour to be,
Gentlemen,
Your most obedient humble servant,
Th. Spens, C. R. M. Ed. Pr.
To the Royal College ol
Physicians of London.
N° III.
o ^ •o
Variola.
334
Exanthe¬
mata.
M E D I
N° III.
At a special court of assistants of the Royal
College of Surgeons, convened by order of
the Master, and holden at the College on
Tuesday the 17th day of March 1807 j
Mr Governor Lucas in the chair ;
Mr Long, as chairman of the board of curators, re¬
ported, that the board are now ready to deliver their
report on the subject of vaccination.
It was then moved, seconded, and resolved, that a
report from the board of curators, on the subject of vac¬
cination, which was referred to their consideration by
the court of assistants, on the 21st day of November
last, be now received.
Mr Long then delivered to Mr Governor Lucas
(presiding in the absence of the master) a report from
the board of curators.
It was then moved, seconded, and resolved, that the
report, delivered by Mr Long, be now read j and it
was read accordingly, and is as follows.
To the Court of Assistants of the Royal College of Sur¬
geons in London.
CINE. practic(
“ Sir, < Vario]
“ The Royal College of Surgeons being desirous -yJ!
to co-operate with the Royal College of Physicians of
London, in obtaining information respecting vaccination,
submit to you the following questions, to which the fa¬
vour of your answer is requested.
“ By order of the Court of Assistants,
Okey Belfoue, Secrctat'y*
Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields,
Dec. 15. 1806.
“ 1st, How many persons have you vaccinated ?
“ 2d, Have any of your patients had the smallpox
after vaccination ? In the case of every such occurrence,
at what period wras the vaccine matter taken from the
vesicle ? How was it preserved ? How long before it
was inserted ? What was the appearance of the inflam¬
mation ? And what the interval between vaccination
and the variolous eruption ?
“ 3d, Have any bad effects occurred in your expe¬
rience in consequence of vaccination ? And if so, what
were they ?
“ 4th, Is the practice of vaccination increasing or
decreasing in your neighbourhood ? If decreasing, to
what cause do you impute it ?”
THE report of the Board of Curators, on the
subject of vaccination, referred to them by
the court, on the 21st day of November
18065 made to the court on the 17th of
March 1807.
The court of assistants having received a letter from
the Royal College of Physicians of London, addressed
to this college, stating, that his majesty had been gra¬
ciously pleased, in compliance with an address from the
honourable House of Commons, to direct his Royal
College of Physicians of London to enquire into the
state of vaccination in the united kingdom, to report
their observations and opinion upon that practice, upon
the evidence adduced in its support, and upon the causes
which have hitherto retarded its general adoption 5 that
the college were then engaged in the investigation of
the several propositions thus referred to thenq and re¬
questing this college to co-operate and communicate
with them, in order that the report thereupon might
be made as complete as possible.
And having, on the 2lst day of November last, re¬
ferred such letter to the consideration of the board of
curators, with authority to take such steps respecting
the contents thereof as they should judge proper, and
report their proceedings thereon, from time to time, to
the court: the board proceeded with all possible dis¬
patch to the consideration of the subject.
The board being of opinion, that it w'ould be proper
to address circular letters to the members of this col¬
lege, with a view of collecting evidence, they sub¬
mitted to the consideration of the court, holden on the
15th day of December last, the drafts of such letter
as appeared to them best calculated to answer that end 5
and the same having been approved by the court, they
caused copies thereof to be sent to all the members
of the college in the united kingdom, whose resi¬
dence could be ascertained, in the following form 5
viz. 0
To such letters the board have received 426 an¬
swers : and the following are the results of their inves¬
tigation :
The number of persons, stated in such letters to have
been vaccinated, is 164,381.
The number of cases in which smallpox had followed
vaccination is 56.
The board think it proper to remark under this head,
that, in the enumeration of cases in which smallpox has
succeeded vaccination, they have included none but
those in which the subject was vaccinated by the sur¬
geon reporting the facts.
The bad consequences which have arisen from vacci¬
nation are, eruptions of the skin in 66 cases, and in¬
flammation of the arm in 24 instances, of which three
proved fatal.
\ accination, in the greater number of counties from
which reports have been received, appears to be increas¬
ing 5 it may be proper, however, to remark, that, in
the metropolis, it is on the deci’ease.
The principal reasons assigned for the decrease are,
Imperfect vaccination.
Instances of smallpox after vaccination.
Supposed bad consequences.
Publications against the practice.
Popular prejudices.
And such report having been considered, it was
moved, seconded, and
Resolved, That the report now read be adopted by
this court, as the answer of the court to the letter ot
the Royal College of Physicians, of the 23d day of Oc¬
tober last, on the subject of vaccination.
Resolved, That a copy of these minutes and resolu¬
tions, signed by Mr Governor Lucas (presiding at this
court in the presence of the master) be transmitted by
the secretary to the register of the Royal College of
Physicians.
(Signed)
Wm. Lucas.
N° IV.
Pj L'ticc.
JC>. tlie-
M E B I
N° IV.
Sir, Edinburgh, March 3. 1807.
I mentioned in my former letter, that I would take
the earliest opportunity of laying before the Royal
College of Surgeons ol Edinburgh, the communica¬
tion with which the Royal College of Physicians of
London had honoured them, on the 23d of October
last:
I am now directed by the Royal College to send the
following answer on that important subject.
The practice of vaccine inoculation, both in private,
and at the vaccine institution established here in 1801,
is increasing so rapidly, that for two or three years past,
the smallpox has been reckoned rather a rare occurrence,
even among the lower orders of the inhabitants of this
city, unless in some particular quarters about twelve
months ago } and, among the higher ranks of the inha¬
bitants, the disease is unknown.
The members of the Royal College of Surgeons have
much pleasure in reporting, that, as far as their experi¬
ence goes, they have no doubt of the permanent securi¬
ty against the smallpox which is produced by the con¬
stitutional affection of the cowpox j and that such
has hitherto been their success in vaccination, as also
to gain for it the confidence of the public, insomuch
that they have not been required, for some years,
past, to inoculate any person with smallpox who had
not previously undergone the inoculation with the cow-
pox.
The members of the Royal College have met with
no occurrence in their practice of cowpox inoculation,
which could operate in their minds to its disadvantage}
and they beg leave particularly to notice, that they
have seen no instance of obstinate eruptions, or of new
and dangerous diseases, which they could attribute to
the introduction among mankind of this mild preventive
of smallpox. The Royal College of Surgeons know
of no causes which have hitherto retarded the adop¬
tion of vaccine inoculation here} on the contrary, the
practice has become general within this city 5 and
from many thousand packets of vaccine matter having
been sent by the members of the Royal College, and
the vaccine institution here, to all parts of the country,
the Royal College have reason to believe that the prac¬
tice has been as generally adopted throughout this part
of the united kingdom as could have been expected
from the distance of some parts of the country from
proper medical assistance, and other circumstances of
that nature.
I have the honour to be,
Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
Wm. Farq,uharson,
President of the Royal College and Incorpo¬
ration of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
N° V.
Royal College of Surgcotts in Ireland,
Sir, Dublin, February <\th, 1807.
I am directed to transmit to you the inclosed report
of a committee of the College of Surgeons in Ireland,
to whom waS referred a letter from the Royal College
CINE. 335
of Physicians in London, relative to the present state of Variola,
vaccination in this part of the united kingdom j and to c—y——'
state, that the College of Surgeons will be highly gra¬
tified by more frequent opportunities of corresponding
with the English College of Physicians on any subject
winch may conduce to the advancement of science, and
the welfare of the public.
I have the honour to be.
Sir,
Your most obedient humble servant,
James Henthorn, Secretary.
At a meeting of the Royal College of Surgeons
in Ireland, holdcn at their Theatre, on Tues¬
day the 13th day of January 1807.
Francis M‘Evoy, Esci. President.
Mr Johnson reported from the committee, to whom
was referred a letter from the College of Physicians,
London, relative to the present state of vaccination in
the united kingdom, &c. &c. that they met, and came
to the following resolutions :
That it appears to this committee, That inoculation
with vaccine infection is now very generally adopted
by the surgical practitioners in this part of the united
kingdom, as a preventive of smallpox.
That it appears to this committee, that from the
2.5th day of March 1800 to the 25th of November
1806, 11,504 persons have been inoculated with vac¬
cine infection at the dispensary for infant poor, and
2831 at the cowpox institution, making a total of
14,335, exclusive of the number inoculated at hospi¬
tals and other places, where no registry is made and
preserved.
That it is the opinion of this committee, that the
cowpox has been found to be a mild disease, and rarely
attended with danger, or any alarming symptom, and
that the few cases of smallpox which have occurred in
this country, after supposed vaccination, have been sa¬
tisfactorily proved to have arisen from accidental cir¬
cumstances, and cannot be attributed to the want of
efficacy in the genuine vaccine infection as a preventive
of smallpox.
That it is the opinion of this committee, that the
causes which have hitherto retarded the more general
adoption of vaccination in Ireland, have, in a great
measure, proceeded from the prejudices of the lower
classes of the people, and the interest of some irregular
practitioners.
To which report the College agreed.
Extract from the minutes,
James Henthorn, Secretary,
After this report, we cannot help thinking that the
British legislature would be fully warranted for passing
an act prohibiting the inoculation ol smallpox under
very severe penalties, and ordering all those who may
be subjected to smallpox by accidental contagion to be
confined to lazarettos, or at least to their own houses,
under a proper guard, to prevent the communication ol
infection, till their complete recovery. By such an
act, there is sood ground to believe, that the loathsome
and dangerous disease of smallpox would in a few years
be exterminated in Britain.
But
33<>
Exantlic- Bat altliougli provultiice lias tlius furnished mankind
mata. with an easy mode of preserving their offspring from
tjie danger 0f smallpox, by the inoculation of the cow-
pox at an early period of life, yet not a few deaths
from the natural small-pox hav e occurred in Britain even
during the course of the present year.
When the preventive has not been duly employed,
after the contagion of variola is introduced into the
body, nothing yet known will prevent the disease from
running its course, either under the mild or confluent
form ; and the endeavours of the medical practitioner
ai'e altogether to be employed in rendering that course
as favourable as possible by mitigating symptoms.
In the mild or distinct smallpox, the strictest anti¬
phlogistic regimen is to be enjoined. Gentle refriger¬
ant cathartics are often useful, and mild diluents should
be copiously employed. Under these remedies the dis¬
ease will generally run its course without much incon¬
venience. But it will sometimes be necessary to em¬
ploy remedies for obviating particular urgent symptoms,
such as gargarisms or blisters for affections of the
throat.
In the malignant smallpox, besides the same refriger¬
ant plan of cure which is best accommodated- to the
mild, as the secondary fever shows evident marks of a
putrid tendency, it is necessary to employ those reme¬
dies which are accommodated to typhus, and accord¬
ingly recourse is not only had to opiates and cardiacs,
but to wine, cinchona, and the mineral acids.
Genus XXIX. VARICELLA.
226 Chickexpox.
Varicella, Uog. 42.
Variola lymphatica, Saur. sp. 1.
Anglis T/ic Chtckenpox, Edin. Med. Essays, vol. ii.
art. 2. near the end. Heberden, Med. Transac.
art. 17. rT/te Watery-Pox.
This is in general a very slight disease ; and it is
attended with so little danger, that it would not merit
any notice, if it were not apt to be confounded with
the smallpox, and thus give occasion to an opinion
that a person might have the smallpox twice in his
life *, or they are apt to deceive into a false security
those who have never had the smallpox, and make
them believe that they are safe when in reality they
are not. This eruption breaks out in many, accord¬
ing to Dr Heberden, without any illness or previous
sign ; in others it is preceded by a slight degree of
chilness, lassitude, cough, broken sleep, wandering
pains, loss of appetite, and feverish state for three
days.
In some patients the chicken-pox make their first ap¬
pearance on the back 5 but this perhaps is not con¬
stant. Most of them are of the common size of the
small-pox, but some are less. Dr Heberden never saw
them confluent, nor very numerous. The greatest
number was about 12 on the face, and 200 over the
rest of the bodv.
On the first day of the eruption they are reddish.
On the second day there is at the top of most of them
a very small bladder, about the size of a millet seed.
This is sometimes full of a watery and colourless, some-
Practii
times of a yellowish liquor, contained between the cu-’varicfj
tide and skin. On the second, or, at the farthest, on-y.
the third day from the beginning of the eruption, as
many of these pocks as are not broken seem arrived at
their full maturity; and those which are fullest of that
yellow liquor very much resemble what the genuine
smallpox are on the fifth or sixth day, especially where
there happens to be a larger space than ordinary oc*
cupied by the extravasated serum. It happens to most
of them, either on the first day that this little bladder
arises, or on the day after, that its tender cuticle is
burst by the accidental rubbing of the clothes, or by
the patient’s hands to allay the itching which attends
this eruption. A thin scab is then formed at the top
of the pock, and the swelling of the other part abates,
without its ever being turned into pus, as it is in the
smallpox. Some fcwr escape being burst; and the little
drop of liquor contained in the vesicle at the tep of
them, grows yellow and thick, and dries into a scab.
On the fifth day of the eruption they arc almost all
dried and covered with a slight crust. The inflamma¬
tion of these pocks is very small, and the contents of
them do not seem to be owing to suppuration, as in the
smallpox, but rather to what is extravasated under the
cuticle by the serous vessels of the skin, as in a com¬
mon blister. It is not wonderful, therefore, that this li¬
quor appears so soon as on the second day; and that, upon
the cuticle being broken, it is presently succeeded by a
slight scab : hence too, as the true skin is so little af¬
fected, no mark or scar is likely to be left, unless in one
or two pocks, where, either by being accidentally much
fretted or by some extraordinary sharpness of the con¬
tents a little ulcer is formed in the skin.
The patients scarce suffer any thing throughout the
whole progress of this illness, except some languidness
of strength, spirits, and appetite ; all which is pro¬
bably owing to the confining of themselves to their
chamber.
Remedies are not likely to be much wanted in a dis¬
ease attended with hardly any inconvenience, and which
in so short a time is certainly cured of itself.
The principal marks by which the chickenpox may
be distinguished from the smallpox are,
1. The appearance, on the second or third day from
the eruption, of that vesicle full of serum upon the top
of the pock.
2. The crust which covers the pocks on the fifth
day ; at which time those of the smallpox are not at
the height of their suppuration.
Foreign medical writers hardly ever mention the
name of this distemper: and the writers of our own
country scarce mention any thing more of it than its
name. Morton speaks of it as if he supposed it to
be a very mild genuine smallpox. But these two dis-
tempers are certainly totally different from one another,
not only on account of their different appearances above
mentioned, but because those who have had the small¬
pox are capable of being infected with the chicken-
pox ; but those who have once had the chickenpox
are not capable of having it again, though to such as
have never had this distemper, it seems as infectious as
the smallpox. Dr Heberden wetted a thread in the
most concocted pus-like liquor of the chickenpox
which he could find; and after making a slight inci-
MEDICINE.
p tctice.
I nthe- si°n» ^ waS confined upon the arm of one who had for-
ata. merly had it; the little wound healed up immediately,
u and showed no signs of any infection.
From the great similitude between the two distem¬
pers, it is probable, that instead of the smallpox, some
persons have been inoculated from the chickenpox j
and that the distemper which has succeeded, has been
mistaken for the smallpox by hasty or unexperienced
observers.
There is sometimes seen an eruption, concerning
which Dr Heberden is in doubt whether it be one of
the many unnoticed cutaneous diseases, or only a more
malignant sort of chickenpox.
This disorder is preceded for three or four days by
all the symptoms which forerun the chickenpox j but
in a much higher degree. On the fourth or fifth day
the eruption appears, with a very little abatement of
the fever: the pains likewise of the limbs and back still
continue, to which are joined pains of the gums. The
pox are redder than the chickenpox, and spread wider j
and hardly rise so high, at least not in proportion to
their size. Instead of one little head or vesicle of a
serous matter, these have from four to ten or twelve.
They go off just like the chickenpox, and are distin¬
guishable from the smallpox by the same marks 5 be¬
sides which, the continuance of the pains and fever af¬
ter the eruption, and the degree of both these, though
there be not above 20 pocks, are circumstances never
happening in the smallpox.
i 227 Genus XXX. RUBEOLA.
Measles.
Rubeola, Sauv. gen. 94. Lin. 4. Sag. 293.
Febris morbillosa, Vog. 36. Hojfm. II. 62.
Morbilli, Jnnck. 76.
Sp. I. The Regular Measles.
Rubeola vulgaris, Sauv. sp. 1.
Morbilli regulares, Sydenh. sect. iv. cap. 5.
\ ar. 1. The Anomalous Measles.
Rubeola anomala, Sauv. sp. 2.
Morbilli anomali, Sydenh. sect. v. cap. 3.
Var. 2. The Measles attended with Quinsy.
^ ar. 3. The Measles, with Putrid Diathesis of the
Blood.
' 228 Sp- II. The Variolodes.
In Scotland commonly called the Nirles.
Rubeola variolodes, Sauv. sp. 3.
Description. This disease begins with a cold stage,
which is soon followed by a hot, with the ordinary
symptoms of thirst, anorexia, anxiety, sickness, and
vomiting; and these are more or less considerable in
different cases. Sometimes from the beginning the
fever is sharp and violent; often, for the first two days,
it is obscure and inconsiderable j but always becomes
violent before the eruption, which commonly happens
on the fourth day. This eruptive fever, from the be¬
ginning of it, is always attended with hoarseness, a
frequent hoarse dry cough, and often with some diffi-
<nltjr of breathing. At the same time, the eyelids
VOL. XIII. Part I.
337
are somewhat swelled j the eyes are a little inflamed, Rubeola,
and pour out tears j and with this there is a coryza,
and frequent sneezing. For the most part, a constant
drowsiness attends the beginning of this disease. The
eruption, as we have said, commonly appears upon the
fourth day, first on the face, and successively on the
lower parts of the body. It appears first in small red
points j but soon after, a number of these appear in.
clusters, which do not arise in visible pimples, but, by
the touch, are found to be a little prominent. This
is the case on the face j but, in other parts of the
body, the prominency, or roughness, is hardly to be
perceived. On the face, the eruption retains its red¬
ness, or has it increased, for two days ; but on the third,
the vivid redness is changed to a brownish red ; and
in a day or two more the eruption disappears, while
a mealy desquamation takes place. During the wholo
time of the eruption, the face is somewhat turgid,
but seldom considerably swelled. Sometimes, after
the eruption has appeared, the fever ceases entirely;
but this is seldom the case j and more commonly the
fever continues or is increased after the eruption, and
does not cease till after the desquamation. Even
then the fever does not always cease, but continues
with various duration and effect. Though the fever
happen to cease upon the eruption’s taking place, it is
common for the cough to continue till after the de¬
squamation. and sometimes much longer. In all cases,
while the fever continues, the cough also continues,
generally with an increase of the difficulty of breath¬
ing •, and both of these symptoms sometimes arise to
a degree which denotes a pneumonic affection. This
may happen at any period of the disease; but very
often it does not come on till after the desquamation of
the eruption.
After the same period, also, a diarrhoea frequently
comes on, and continues for some time.
It is common for measles, even when they have not
been of a violent kind, to be followed by inflammatory
affections, particularly ophthalmia and phthisis. If
blood be drawn from a vein in the measles, with cir¬
cumstances necessary to favour the separation of the
fibrine, this always appears separated, and lying on the
surface of the crassamcntum, as in inflammatory dis¬
eases. For the most part, the measles, even when vio¬
lent, are without any jmtrid tendency j but in some
cases, such a tendency appears both in the course of
the disease, and especially after the ordinary course of
it is finished.
Causes. The measles are occasioned by a peculiar
kind of contagion, the nature of which is not under¬
stood j and which, like that of the smallpox, affects a
person only once in his life.
Prognosis. From the description of this distemper
already given, it appears that the measles are attended
with a catarrhal affection, and with an inflammatory
diathesis to a considerable degree ; and therefore the
danger of them is to be apprehended chiefly from the
coming on of a pneumonic inflammation.
Cure. In measles, as well as in smallpox, the dis¬
ease from its nature must necessarily run a determined
course j and therefore the sole aim of a practitioner is
to conduct this course in the easiest manner, by prevent¬
ing and obviating urgent symptoms.
From the consideration mentioned in the prognosis,
f U u ' it
MEDICINE.
38 M E D I
Kxanthc- it wiil be obvious, that the remedies especially necessary
mata. are those which may obviate and diminish the inflam-
 v 1 matory diathesis; and therefore, in a particular man¬
ner, blood-letting. This remedy may be employed at
any time in the course of the disease, or after the or¬
dinary course of it is finished. It is to be employed
more or less according to the urgency of the symp¬
toms of fever, cough, and dyspnoea j and generally
may be employed very freely. But as the symptoms
of pneumonic inflammation seldom come on during the
eruptive fever, and as this is sometimes violent imme¬
diately before the eruption, though a sufficiently mild
disease be to follow; bleeding is seldom very necessary
during the eruptive fever, and may often be reserved
for the times of greater danger which are perhaps to fol¬
low.
In all cases of measles, where there are marks of
putresceney, and where there is no reason, from the
known nature of the epidemic, to apprehend putres-
cency, bleeding is the remedy most to be depended
upon : but assistance may also be drawn from cooling
purgatives ; and from blistering on the sides or between
the shoulders. The dry cough may be alleviated by
the large use of demulcent pectorals, mucilaginous,
oily, or sweet. It may, however, be observed, with
respect to these demulcents, that they are not so power¬
ful in involving and correcting the acrimony of the
mass of blood as has been imagined j and that their
chief operation is by lubricating the fauces, and thereby
defending them from the irritation of acrids, either ari¬
sing from the lungs or distilling from the head. For
moderating and quieting the cough in this disease, opi¬
ates certainly prove the most effectual means, whenever
they can be safely employed. In the measles, in which
an inflammatory state prevails in a considerable degree,
opiates have indeed by some been supposed to be inad¬
missible : but experience abundantly demonstrates, that
the objection made to their use is merely hypothetical :
and even in cases where, from a high degree of pyrexia
and of dyspnoea, there is reason to fear the presence, or
at least the danger, of pneumonic inflammation, opiates
are highly useful, after bleeding, to obviate or abate the
inflammatory state, has been duly employed : in such
cases, while the cough and watchfulness arc the urgent
symptoms, opiates may be safely exhibited, and with
great advantage. In all the exanthemata, there is an
acrimony diffused over the system, which gives a con¬
siderable irritation*, and for obviating the effects of this,
opiates are useful, and always proper, when no particu¬
lar contraindication prevails.
When the desquamation of the measles is finished,
though then there should be no disorder remaining,
physicians have thought it necessary to purge the pa¬
tient several times, with a view to draw off. what have
been called the dregs of this disease ; that is, a portion
of the morbific matter which is supposed to remain
long in the body. Dr Cullen does not reject this sup¬
position; but at the same time cannot believe that the
remains of the morbific matter, diffused over the whole
mass of blood, can be wholly drawn off by purging 5
and therefore thinks, that, to avoid the consequence
of the measles, it is not the drawing off the morbific
matter which we need to study, so much as to obviate
and remov e the inflammatory state of the system which
had been induced by the disease. With this last view,
CINE. Practio
indeed, purging may still be a proper remedy 5 but
bleeding, in proportion to the symptoms of inflammatory ^
disposition, is still more so.
From our late experience of the use of cold air iu
the eruptive fever of the smallpox, some physicians
have been of opinion that the practice may be trans¬
ferred to the measles *, but this point has not yet been
determined by sufficiently extensive experience. We
are certain, that external heat may be very hurtful in
the measles, as in most other inflammatory diseases y
and therefore, that the body ought to be kept in a
moderate temperature during the whole course of the
disease: but how far, at any period of the disease,
cold air may be applied with safety, is still uncertain.
Analogy, though so often the resource of physicians,
is frequently fallacious; and further, though the ana¬
logy with the smallpox might lead to the application of
cold air during the eruptive fever of the measles, the
analogy Avith catarrh seems to be against the prac¬
tice.
When the eruption is upon the skin, there are many
instances of cold air making it disappear, and thereby
producing much disorder in the system ; and there are
also frequent instances of these symptoms being removed
by. restoring the heat of the body, and thereby again
bringing out the eruption.
Upwards of 20 years ago, inoculation for the measles
was proposed, and practised in several instances Avith
success, by Dr Home of Edinburgh. His method of
communicating the infection Avas, by applying to an
incision in each arm cotton moistened Avith the blood
of a patient labouring under the measles; but with
others avIio have made similar trials, the attempt has ,
not yet succeeded. Attempts haA*e been made to ino¬
culate this disease by means of the fluid discharged
under the form of tears, the squamae falling from the
surface and the like j hut there is reason to believe,
that Avhere it Avas imagined the infection had thus been
communicated, the contagion Avas only carried about
the person inoculating and communicated in the ordinary
Avay.
From inoculation of the measles, it is imagined that
several advantages may be obtained ; and among others,
it is thought the soreness of the eyes may be mitigated,
the cough abated, and the fever rendered less severe.
But the practice Avas never much employed, and now is
scarce ever heard of.
Genus XXXI. MILEIRIA.
The Miliary Fever.
Miliaria, Lin. 7.
Miliaris, Smtv. gen, 95. Sag. gen. 295.
Febris miliaris, Fog. 37.
I ebris purpurata rubra et alba miliaris, Hojfm. II. 68.
Febris purpurea sen miliaris, Junck. 73.
Germanis der Friesel. God. JFelsch. Hist. Med de
novo puerperarum morbo, qui der Friesel dicitur,
Lips. 1655.
Hamilton, de febr. miliar. 1710. Font anus, de febr.
mil. 1747. Allioni de miliar. 1758. Fordyce, (le
febr. mil. 1748. Fischer, de febr. mil. 1767. De
llaen, de divis. febr. 1760, et in Ration, med. pas¬
sim. Matt. Collin ad Bahlinger de miliar, I7^4*
3 Miliaris
p ctice.
2 nthe- Miliaris benigna, Sauv. sp. i.
ite- Miliaris maligna, Sauv. sp. 2.
u v ' 1 Miliaris recidivans, Sauv. sp. 3.
Miliaris Germanica, Sauv. sp. 5.
Miliaris Boia, Sauv. sp. a.
Miliaris Britannica, SauV. sp.
Miliaris nova febris, Sijdenh. Sched. monit. Sauv.
3p. d.
Miliaris sudatoria, Sauv. sp. e.
Miliaris nautica, Sauv. sp. g.
Miliaris purpurata, Sauv. sp.
Miliaris lactea, Sauv. sp. c.
Miliaris puerperarum, Sauv. sp. k.
Miliaris scorbutica, Sauv. sp. /.
Miliaris critica, Sauv. sp. 6.
History and Description. This disease is said to have
been unknown to the ancients, and that it appeared
for the first time in Saxony about the middle of the
last Century. It is said to have since spread front
thence into all the other countries of Europe ; and
since the period mentioned, to have appeared in
many countries in which it had never appeared be-
fore.
From the time of its having been first taken notice
of, it has been described and treated of by many dif¬
ferent writers ; and by all of them, fill very lately, has
been considered as a peculiar idiopathic disease. It is
said to have been constantly attended with peculiar
symptoms. It comes oh with a cold stage, which is
often considerable. The hot stage, which follows, is
attended with great anxiety, and frequent sighing.
The heat of the body becomes great, and soon pro¬
duces profuse sweating,'preceded, however, Avith a
sense of pricking, as of pin points in the skin; and
the sweat is of a peculiar rank and disagreeable odour.
The eruption appears sooner or later in different per¬
sons, but at no determined period of the disease. It
seldom or never appears upon the face ; but appears
first upon the neck and breast, and from thence often
spreads over the whole body.
The eruption named miliary, is said to be of two
kinds •, the one named the red, the other the white mi¬
liary. The former, which in English is strictly named
a rush, is commonly allowed to be a symptomatic af¬
fection y and as the latter is the only one that has any
pretensions to be Considered as an idiopathic disease, it
is this only that we shall more particularly describe and
treat of under this genus.
What is then called the white miliary eruption, ap¬
pears at first like the red, in very small red pimples,
for the most part distinct, hut sometimes clustered to¬
gether. Their little prominence is better distinguish¬
ed by the finger than by the eye. Soon after the ap¬
pearance of this eruption, and, at least, on the second
day, a small vesicle is visible upon the top of the pim¬
ples. At first the vesicle is whey-coloured : but soon
becomes white, and stands out like a little globule.
In two or three days, these globules break, or are rub¬
bed off; and are succeeded by small crusts, which soon
after fall off in small scales. While one set of pimples
takes this course, another set arises to run the same } so
that the disease often continues upon the skin for many
days together. Sometimes when one crop of this erup¬
tion has disappeared, another, after some interval, is
339
produced. And it has been further observed, that in Miliaria,
some persons there is such a disposition to this disease,
that they have been affected with it several times in the
course of their lives.
This disease is said to affect both sexes, and persons
of all ages and constitutions : hut it has been observed
at all times to affect especially, and most frequently,
lying-in women.
It is often accompanied with violent symptoms, and
has frequently proved fatal. The symptoms, however,
attending it are very various ; hut no symptom, or
concourse of symptoms, are steadily the same in different
persons, so as to give any specific character to the disease.
When the disease is violent, the most common symptoms
are phrenetic, comatose, and convulsive affections, which
are also symptoms of all fevers treated by a very warm
regimen.
Wkile there is such a variety of symptoms appearing
in this disease, it is not to be expected that any one par¬
ticular method of dure can he proposed •, and, accord¬
ingly, we find in different writers different methods
and remedies prescribed •, frequent disputes about the
most proper; and those received and recommended by
some, opposed and deserted by others.
It appears, however, to Dr Cullen, very improbable,
that this was really a new disease, when it was first
considered as such. There are very clear traces of it
in authors who wrote long before that period •, and
though there were not, we know that ancient descrip¬
tions Avere often inaccurate and imperfect, particularly
AA’ith respect to cutaneous affections j and Ave know also
that those affections Avhich commonly appeared assymp
tomatic only, Avere often neglected, or confounded to
gether under a general appellation.
The antecedent symptoms of anxiety, sighing, and
pricking of the skin, which have been spoken of as pe¬
culiar to this disease, are, hoAvever, common to many
others: and perhaps to all those in Avhich sweatings are
forced out by a Avarm regimen. Of the symptoms said
to he concomitant of this eruption, there are none which
can he affirmed to he constant and peculiar but that of
sweating. This, indeed, always precedes and accom¬
panies the eruption : and, while the miliary eruption
attends many different diseases, it never, hoAvevTer, ap¬
pears in any of these but after SAveatingj and in persons
labouring under the same diseases it does not appear, if
in such persons SAveating be avoided. It is therefore
probable, that the eruption is the effect of SAveating :
and that it is the effect of a matter not before prevail¬
ing in the mass of blood, but generated under particu¬
lar circumstances in the skin itself. That it depends
upon particular circumstances of the skin, is also pro¬
bable from its being observed that the eruption seldom
or never appears upon the face, although it affects the
whole of the body besides ; and that it comes upon
those places especially which are more closely covered j
and that it can he brought out upon particular places
by external applications.
It is to be observed, that this eruptive disease dif¬
fers from the other exanthemata in many circumstan¬
ces, especially the folloAving; that it is not contagious,
and therefore neA'er epidemic j that the eruption ap¬
pears at no determined period of the disease ; that the
eruption has no determined duration •, that successive
eruptions frequently appear in the course of the same
E if 2 fever,
MEDICINE.
340 M E D I
Exanthe- fever, and that such eruptions frequently recur in the
mata. course of the same person’s life. All this renders it
    ' very probable, that, in the miliary fever, the morbific
matter is not a subsisting contagion communicated to
the blood, and thence, in consequence of fever and
assimilation, thrown out upon the surface of the body,
hut a matter occasionally produced in the skin itself by
sweating.
This conclusion is fui’ther rendered probable from
hence, that, while the miliary eruption has no symp¬
toms or concourse of symptoms peculiar to itself, it,
upon occasions, accompanies almost every febiule dis¬
ease, whether inflammatory or putrid, if these happen
to be attended with sweating; and from thence it may
he presumed, that the miliary eruption is a symptomatic
affection only, produced in the manner we have said.
But as this symptomatic affection does not always
accompany every instance of sweating, it may be pro¬
per to inquire, what are the circumstances which espe¬
cially determine this eruption to appear ? And to this
Dr Cullen gives no full and proper answer. He can¬
not say that there is any one circumstance which in all
cases gives occasion to this eruption ; nor can he say
what different causes, in different cases, may give oc¬
casion to it. There is only one observation that can be
made to the purpose } and it is, that these persons, sweat¬
ing under febrile diseases, are especially liable to the
miliary eruption, who have been previously weakened
by large evacuations, particularly of blood. This will
explain why it happens to lying-in women more fre-
quently than to any other persons $ and to confirm this
explanation, he has observed, that the eruption has hap¬
pened to other women, though not in childbed, but who
had been much subjected to a frequent and copious
menstruation, and to an almost constant fiuor albus.
He has also observed it to have happened to men in fe¬
vers, after wounds from which they had suffered a great
loss of blood.
Further, That this eruption is produced by a certain
state of debility, is, he thinks, probable, from its so of¬
ten attending fevers of the putrid kind, which are al-
tvays accompanied with great debility. It is true, that
it also sometimes attends inflammatory diseases, when it
cannot be accounted for in the same manner •, but he
believes it may be observed, that it especially attends
those inflammatory diseases in which the swreats have
been long protracted, or frequently repeated, and
which have thereby produced a debility, and perhaps
a debilitating putrid diathesis.
fIhat, however, the miliary eruption is not necessarily
or even generally connected with a certain state of de¬
bility, is abundantly evident from its being entirely
wanting in by much the greater number of instances
of typhoid fever, and in a variety of other diseases
where every possible degree of debility occurs : And
that it is not connected with any certain state of debi¬
lity, still farther appears, both from the condition of
those affected with it in different instances, which in
point of strength is very various ; and likewise from
the continuance of fresh eruptions with the same indi¬
vidual, although during that time in very different
states with respect to debility. It appears, therefore,
much more probable, that it depends on some peculiar
state of the surface, induced by the concurring influ¬
ence of certain predisposing and occasional causes.
CINE. _ Practic
It appears so clearly that this eruption is always a Miliatj
symptomatic and factitious affection, that Dr Cullen is1 ^
persuaded it may be, in most cases, prevented merely
by avoiding sweats. Spontaneous sweatings, in the be¬
ginning of diseases, are very rarely critical; and all
sweatings not evidently critical should be prevented,
or at least moderated j and the promoting them, by in¬
creasing external heat, is commonly very pernicious.
Even critical sweats should hardly be encouraged by
such means. If, therefore, spontaneous sweats arise,
they are to be checked by the coolness of the chamber $
by the lightness and looseness of the bedclothes ; by
the persons laying out their arms and hands j and by
their taking cold drink : and in this way Dr Cullen
thinks he has frequently prevented miliary eruptions,
which were otherwise likely to have appeared, particu¬
larly in puerperal women.
But it may happen, when these precautions have
been neglected, or from other circumstances, that a mi¬
liary eruption does actually appear ; and the question
will then be put, how the case is to be treated ? This
is a question of consequence ; as there is reason to be¬
lieve that the matter here generated is often of a vi¬
rulent kind ; it is often the offspring of putrescency 5
and, when treated by increasing the external heat of
the body, it seems to acquire a virulence which produ¬
ces those symptoms mentioned above, and proves cer¬
tainly fatal.
It has been an unhappy opinion with most physi¬
cians, that eruptive diseases were ready to be hurt by
cold j and that it Was therefore necessary to cover up
the body very closely, and thereby increase the exter¬
nal heat. We now know that this is a mistaken opi¬
nion j that increasing the external heat of the body is
very generally mischievous j and that several eruptions
not only admit, but require the application of cold air.
Dr Cullen is persuaded, therefore, that the practice
which formerly prevailed in the case of miliary erup¬
tions, of covering up the body closely, and both by
external means and internal remedies encouraging the
sweatings which accompany this eruption, was highly
pernicious, and commonly fatal. He is therefore of
opinion, that even when a miliary eruption has appear¬
ed, in all cases in which the sweating is not manifestly
critical, we should employ all the means of stopping
the sweating that are mentioned above ; and he has
sometimes had occasion to observe, that even the Ad¬
mission of cool air ivas safe and useful.
This is, in general, the treatment of miliary erup¬
tions : but at the same time, the remedies suited to the
primary disease are to be employed $ and therefore
when the eruption happens to accompany inflammatory
affections, and the fulness and hardness of the pulse or
other symptoms show an inflammatory state present,
the case is to be treated by blood-letting, purging, and
other antiphlogistic, remedies.
On the other hand, when the miliary eruption at¬
tends diseases in which debility and putrescency pre¬
vail, it will be proper to avoid all evacuations, and to
employ tonic and antiseptic remedies, particularly the
cinchona, cold drink, and cold air.
The most distressing circumstance attending this af¬
fection, is the almost unsupportable sickness at sto¬
mach which frequently occurs, and which is often ob¬
served to precede fresh eruptions taking place during
ths
p ctice.
tjie_ the course of the disease. With the view of counter-
ta. acting and alleviating this symptom, recourse is had to
u> —; wine and other cordial medicines. But with many
patients nothing is found to have so much influence
as the use of camphor, particularly when introduced
gradually in small doses, under the form of the mistu-
ra camphorata of the London Pharmacopoeia, or of the
emulsio camphorata of that of Edinburgh.
Genus XXXII. SCARLATINA.
Scarlet Fever.
Scarlatina, Sauv. gen. 98. Fog. 39. Sag. 294.
Junck. 75.
Sp. I. The Mild Scarlet Fever.
Scarlatina febris, Sauv. sp. I. Sydenham, sect. vi.
cap. 2,
Sp. II. The Scarlet Fever with Ulcerated Sore
Throat.
Scarlatina anginosa. Withering on the Scarlet Fe¬
ver.
* The mild scarlet fever is described by Sydenham,
who tells us that he can scarce account it a disease;
and indeed nothing more seems to be necessary in the
treatment of it than an antiphlogistic regimen, avoid¬
ing the application of cold air and cold drink. The
disease, however, often rages epidemically, and is at¬
tended with very alarming symptoms, in which case it
is called scarlatina anginosa.—The best description of
this distemper has been published by Dr Withering in
the year I77^‘ This disease made its appearance, we
are told, at Birmingham and the neighbouring villages,
about the middle of May I77®• continued in all its
force and frequency to the end of October; varying,
however, in some of its symptoms, as the air grew cold¬
er. In the beginning of November it was rarely met
with} but towards the middle of that month, when the
air became warmer, it increased again, and in some
measure resumed those appearances it possessed in the
summer months, but which it had lost during the cold
winds in October.
It affected children more than adults *, but seldom
occurred in the former under two years of age, or in
the latter if they had passed their fiftieth year.
description. With various general symptoms of
fever, the patient at first complains of a dejection of
spirits, a slight soreness or rather stiffness in the neck,
with a sense of straitness in the muscles of the neck
and shoulders, as if they were bound with cords,
ffhe second day of the fever this soreness in the throat
increases, and the patients find a difficulty in swallow¬
ing : but the difficulty seems less occasioned by the
pain excited in the attempt, or by the straitness of
the passage, than by an inability to throw the ne¬
cessary muscles into action. The skin feels hot and dry,
hut not hard \ and the patients experience frequent,
small pungent pains, as if touched with the point of
a needle. The breath is hot and burning to the lips,
and thirst makes them wish to drink 5 but the ten-
ency to sickness, and the exertions necessary in deglu¬
tition, are so unpleasant, that they seldom care to
3A'1
drink much at a time. They have much uneasiness Scarlatina.
also from want of rest during the night. In the ' 
morning of the third day, the face, neck, and breast,
appear redder than usual : in a few hours this redness
becomes universal j and increases to such a degree of
intensity, that the face, body, and limbs, resemble a
boiled lobster in colour, and are evidently swollen.
Upon pressure the redness vanishes, but soon returns
again. The skin is smooth to the touch, nor is there
the least appearance of pimples or pustules. The eyes
and nostrils partake more or less of the general redness;
and in proportion to the intensity of this colour in the
eyes, the tendency to delirium prevails.
Things continue in nearly this state for two or
three days longer, when the intense scarlet gradually
abates, a brown colour succeeds, and the skin be¬
coming rough, peels off in small scales. The tume¬
faction subsides at the same time, and the patients gra¬
dually recover their strength and appetite.
During the whole course of the disease, the pulse
is quick, small, and uncommonly feeble, the urine
small in quantity ; the sub-maxillary glands somewhat
enlarged and painful to the touch. The velum pen¬
dulum palati, the uvula, the tonsils, and gullet, as far
as the eye can reach, partake of the general redness
and tumefaction ; but although collections of thick mu¬
cus, greatly resembling the specks or sloughs in the
putrid sore throat, sometimes occur, yet those are easily
washed off; and real ulcerations of those parts were
never observed.
These are the most usual appearances of this disor¬
der ; but it too frequently assumes a much more fatal
form. In some children the delirium commences in a
few hours after the first attack; the skin is intensely
hot; the scarlet colour appears on the first or second
day, and they die very early on the third. Others
again, who survive this rapid termination, instead of
recovering, as is usual about the time the skin begins
to get its natural colour, fall into a kind of lingeriug?
and die at last in the course of six or eight weeks.
In adults, circular livid spots were frequently ob¬
served about the breast, knees, and elbows ; also large
blotches ef red, and others of white intermixed, and
often changing places.
In the month of October, when the air became
colder, the scarlet colour of the skin was both less
frequent and less permanent. Many patients had no
appearance of it at all ; while others, especially adults,
had a few minute red pimples, crowned with white
pellucid heads. The inside of the throat was con¬
siderably tumefied, its colour a dull red, sometimes
tending to a livid. The pulse beat in general 139
or 140 strokes in a minute; was small, but hard,
and sometimes sufficiently so to justify the opening of
a vein ; and the blood thus taken away, in every in¬
stance, when cool, appeared sizy, and the whole crassa-
menturn firm.
Happy would it be, Dr Withering observes, if the
baneful influence of this disorder terminated with the
febrile symptoms. But in ten or fifteen days from
the cessation of the fever, and when a complete re¬
covery might be expected, another train of symptoms
occurs, which at last frequently terminate fatally.
The patients, after a few' days amendment, feel a
something that prevents their farther approach to
healthy
M E D I C I N E.
ME D 1 C IN E
health; an unacconnialtle languor anti debility pre¬
vail, a stiffness in tlie limbs, an accelerated pulse,
disturbed sleep, disrelish to food, arid a scarcity oi
urine. These symptoms, we are told, are soon suc¬
ceeded by swellings of a real dropsical nature, form¬
ing sometimes an anasarca, and on other occasions an
ascites j and not unfrequently scarlatina has proved fa¬
tal, from supervening hydrothorax in consequence of
the effusion of water into the chest, ft is unnecessary
to remark, that when this happens, a fatal termina¬
tion is more sudden than from any other modification
of dropsy.
Dr Withering, after examining the accounts given
of this disease by different authors, proceeds to the diag¬
nosis. It may he distinguished, he observes, from the
petechial fever, by the eruption in the latter. appearing
seldom before the fourth day, by the regularity and di¬
stinctness of the spots, and by its principally occupying
the neck, the hack, and the loins. On the other hand,
in the scarlet fever, the eruption generally appears about
the third day ; and consists either of broad blotches, or
else one continued redness, which spreads over the fa’Ce
and the whole body.
In the fever called jtwryjfcrc, the pustules are pro¬
minent, keep their colour under pressure, and never
appear early in the disease j whereas in the scarlet fe¬
ver, the eruption appears more early, is not prominent,
hut perfectly smooth to the touch, and becomes quite
white under pressure.
Although the purple fever and scarlatina may be
connected by some general cause, yet our author takes
occasion to observe, that they cannot be mere modifi¬
cations of the same eruption : for examples occur,
he says, of the same person being first seized with one
of these disorders, and afterwards with the other \
but he never met with an instance of the same person
having the scarlet fever twice; and he believes it to
he as great an improbability as a repetition of the
smallpox.
This disorder is particularly distinguished from the
tneasles, we are told, by the want of that cough, wa¬
tery eye, and running at the nose, which are known
to be the predominant symptoms in the early state
of the measles, but are never known to exist in the
scarlatina*
From the erysipelas this disease is distinguishable,
by the limited seat of the former, together with its not
being contagious.
The eynanche maligna, however, is, according to Dr
Withering, more difficult to distinguish from this disease
-than any other; and yet the distinction is, he thinks, a
matter of the greatest importance, as the method of
treatment, according to him, ought to be extremely
different.—Although, in a number of circumstances,
these two diseases bear a very great resemblance, yet,
with a little attention, the one may in general, he thinks,
'be distinguished from the other. From Dr Fother-
gill’s account of the sore throat attended with ulcers,
our author has made out the following characteristi-
cal circumstances of the two diseases, contrasted to
one another.
Scarlatina Anginosa.
Season. . Summer . . Au¬
tumn. -
Angina Gangrenosa.
Season. . Spring . . Win¬
ter.
Scarlatina Anginosa.
Air . . Hot... Dry.
Places. High .. Dry . ..
Gravelly.
Subjects. Vigorous. Both
sexes alike. . Bobust in
most danger. .. .
Skin. Full scarlet . . . .
smooth . . If pimply,
the pimples white at
the top . . Always dry
and hot.
Eyes. Shining, equable,
intense redness, rarely
-watery.
Throat. In summer, ton¬
sils, &c. little tume¬
fied ; no slough . . In
autumn, more swelled.
Integuments separating
. . Sloughs white.
Ere'ath. Very hot, but riOt
fetid.
Voice. In summer, natural.
Bowels. .Regular at the
accession.
Blood. Buffy. . Firm.
Termination. The 3d, 5th,
8th, or nth day.
Nature. Inflammatory.
Angina Gangrenosa. Sm,at:
Atr. . Warm . . Moist.
Blaces. Close .. Low..
Damp . . Marshy.
Subjects. Delicate. .Wo¬
men and female chil¬
dren. Robust adults net'
in danger.
Skin. lied tirict . . pim¬
ply. . The pimples red¬
der than the interstices
. . bedewed with sweat
towards morning.
Ey es. Inflamed and wa¬
tery, or sank and deadi
Throat. Tonsils, &c. con¬
siderably swelled and
ulcerated . . . Sloughs
dark brown.
Breath. Offensive to the
patients and assistants.
Voice. Flat and rattling.
Bowels . . Purging at the
accession.
Blood. . Florid. . Tender.
Termination. No stated
period.
Nature. Putrid.
It is not pretended, Dr Withering remarks, that all
the above contrasted symptoms will be met rvith in
every case. It is enough, he observes, that some oi
them appear ; and that if, conjoined Avith the consi¬
deration of the prevailing constitution, they enable us
-to direct that mode of treatment which Avill most con¬
tribute to the relief of the sick.
But notwithstanding the attention Avhich Dr Wi¬
thering has bestowed upon this subject, we are still
decidedly of opinion, that the disease which he has so
accurately described under the title of scarlatina avgi-
nosa, is in reality the same affection Avith the malignant
ulcerous sore throat of Huxham and Fothergill. Dur¬
ing different epidemics, this disease, like smallpox and
measles, in different seasons, is considerably varied in
its appearance. But still there occurs such a simila¬
rity as clearly marks the sameness of the affection.
And indeed this, as in the case of the smallpox, is
abundantly demonstrated by infection from one con¬
tagion giving protection against succeeding ones, al¬
though the appearances be much varied. This has parti-
cularly appeared at Edinburgh, Avhere the disease has of
late prevailed as an epidemic on five different years, viz.
I774"75> i782-83> i79.7-98> aml i8o4'5-
During the ffist of these occasions, in the greater part 01
patients, the sore throats Avere of a very gangrenous and
malignant nature: during the second, the disease more
commonly appeared under the form of what might be
called simple scarlatina: and during the other epi¬
demics, the contagion AA7as, if avc may be allowed the ex¬
pression, of an intermediate nature. But it is farther to
be remarked, that during every one of those epidemics,
when several children of a family Avere at the same time
Subjected
Pi;tice. MEDICINE.
jjv the- subjected to the infection, in one the disease would have one would have expected in almost any other situa-
j :a. been attended with almost all the symptoms mentioned tion.
^ 'in the column of scarlatina angimsa, with respect to Vomiting,] This, Dr Withering observes, seems to
skin, eyes, throat, breath, bowels, termination of the be the remedy of nature; and he is surprised how it
affections, &c. In another, would have occurred all should have been omitted by several authors who have
the symptoms with respect to those particulars which gone before him. Vomiting, he says, most amply ful-
he has mentioned under the column of angina gan- Ills the indications arising both from a consideration of
grenosa. While at the same time, in numberless in- the cause and of the effects j and a liberal use of the re-
stanees, even in the same patient, the disease at its medy he holds forth as the true foundation for success-
commencement has shown evident marks of an inflame ful practice in scarlet fever and sore throat. His com-
matory, and at its termination of a putrid tendency# mpn form of emetic is a combination of tartar emetic
And there cannot be a doubt, that both the scarlatina and ipecacuanha, given in pretty smart doses- and
anginosa of Withering, and the cynanche maligna, as these are to he repeated at least once in 48 hours, and
^scribed by Fothergill and Kuxham, have occurred in in the worst cases so often as twice in 24 hours,
every season and situation, and have affected persons of Purging.] The action of purgatives is considered
every age and constitution not before subject to either, by Dr Withering as-altogether repugnant to the cura-
disease. ^ tive indications in this disease : for the poisons, as for-
Causes. 1. Dr Vi ithering affirms, that the immediate merly remarked, being received into the system by the
cause of this disease is a poison of a peculiar kind coni- fauces, the operation of a purge, instead of discharging
municable by contagion. it, can only promote its diffusion along the alimentary
2. That this poison first takes possession of the canal; and, in fact, we are told, that when even a
mucous membrane lining the fauces and the nose ; and spontaneous purging supervenes in this disease, the pa-
either by its action upon the secretory glands, or Uents sink so amazingly fast, that it is not within the
upon the mucus itself, assimilates that mucus to its reach of art to support them. When, however, a con-
own nature. . siderablc quantity of acrid matter passing from the
3. Tha,t it is from this beginning, and from this on- fauces into the stomach, makes its ivay to the rectum,
ly, that it spreads to the stomach, &c. and at length a considerable degree of looseness often takes place,
acts upon the system at large. And although evacuations from the system in general by
4. That its first action upon the nerves is of a seda- means of cathartics may be hurtful, yet patients often
tive or debilitating nature. obtain great relief from a free discharge of this matter;.
5. That in consequence of certain laws of the ner- and by discharging it,; purgatives have the effect even
vous system, when the debilitating effects operate upon of preventing an evacuation from the system, which
the sensorium commune, a reaction takes place j and would otherwise take place.
that this reaction is, c&terisparibus, proportioned to the Sudorifics. Cordials. Alexipharmics.] None of
debilitating power. these remedies were found beneficial. With respect to
6* That, in consequence of this reaction of the cordials, Dr Withering observes, that although they
nervous system, the vibratory motion of the capillary seem to be indicated by the great loss of strength and
blood-vessels dependant thereon is greatly increased j feeble pulse, yet the certain consequence of their use
an unusually large quantity of blood is accumulated in always was, an increase of restlessness, of the delirium,
those vessels ; the heart and large blood-vessels arc de- and of the heat.
prived of their customary proportion j and hence, though Diuretics.] These were found veiy beneficial. The
stimulated to more frequent contraction, the pulse must vegetable fixed alkali is recommended as the most pro-
necessarily be feeble. per article of this kind : a dram or two may be easily
7- Uiat as violent exertions are followed by debility, swallowed every 24 hours, by giving a small quantity
upon the cessation of the fever, the capillary vessels, in every thing the patient drinks. Diuretics, however,
which had acted with such unusual violence, are left in have been found principally serviceable, by practitioners
a state of extreme debility, and are long in recovering in general, in those cases where the urine is observed
their tone j hence it is that so many patients afterwards to be scanty, and-where dropsical symptoms have taken
become dropsical. .place.
Dr Withering next proceeds to the consideration of , Cinchona.] No medicine, we are told, ever had
the different remedies which either are at present in a fairer trial in any disease than the Peruvian bark
common use, or have been recommended as proper in bad in this epidemic; for the feeble pulse, great pro-
tbis disease. stration of strength, with here and there a Ijvid spot,
Cure. Blood-letting has been recommended by au- were thought to he such undeniable evidences of a pu-
thors; but such was the state of the pulse in this dis- trid tendency, that cinchona was poured down not
order, at least during the summer months, that it was with a sparing hand. But this was only at first; for
Hot 111 any instance thought advisable to take away these livid spots and the sloughs in the throat being
blood. In some cases, indeed, where the fiery red- found to be the effects of inflammation instead of pu-
ness of the eyes seemed to demand the use of leeches, trefaction, and the bark instead of diminishing, rather
they were had recourse to, but never with any advan- increasing these symptoms, it was at last entirely laid
fage. In the harvest months, when the pulse was aside by Dr Withering in his practice. But although
more firm, and when suffocation seemed to be threaten- cinchona may not have been successful with a particu-
cd from the swelling in the fauces, blood-letting was lar epidemic at a particular place j yet from the con-
soinetimes advised } but still with less advantage than curring testimony of many practitioners, it is very com¬
monly
343
Scarlatina.
MEDICINE. . Practir
monly found to be productive of good effects: And
there is perhaps no remedy on which greater depend-
ance is in general put, particularly in the advanced pe¬
riods of the disease, where the fetor is considerable.
Upon the same principles that cinchona was pre¬
scribed, fixable air was at first likewise advised, but
witli no evident effects either one way or another.
Dulcified acids were also had recourse to, but with no
advantage.
Opiates.] These, although recommended by some
authors for the removal of inquietude and watchiulness,
yet in this epidemic, instead of effecting these purposes,
always increased the distress of the patient.
Blisters. ] In the summer appearance of the disease,
blisters were universally detrimental j they never failed
to hasten the delirium j and if the case was of the
Worst kind, they too often confirmed its fatal tendency.
But although this may have been the case during the
epidemic which Dr Withering describes, it has by no
means been generally observed. On the contrary, by
the early application of blisters to the external fauces,
both the glandular swellings and likewise the discharge
from the mouth and fauces have been much diminish¬
ed ; and practitioners have believed, not without pro¬
bable reason, that the after-affections of the throat
were less considerable than would otherwise have been
the case.
Injected gargles of contrayerva decoction, sweetened
with oxymel of squills, &c. were found very beneficial
in bringing always large quantities of viscid ropy stuff
from the fauces.
The immersion of the feet and legs in warm water,
although it did no harm, yet did not either procure
sleep or abate the delirium, as it frequently does in
other kinds of fever.
As in summer it was found difficult to keep the pa¬
tients sufficiently cool, they were ordered to lie upon
a mattress instead of a feather-bed; a free circula¬
tion of air was kept up *, and where the patients strength
would admit of it, they were ordered frequently out
of doors. Animal food and fermented liquors wrere
denied them, and nothing allowed but tea, coffee,
chocolate, milk and water, gruel, barley-water, and
such articles.
With respect to the dropsical disorder which so fre¬
quently succeeds to this complaint, it was never obser¬
ved, Dr Withering remarks, when the preceding
symptoms had been properly treated.
When called upon to patients in the dropsical state,
he began bis practice by a dose of calomel at night,
and a purgative in the morning. When a febrile
pulse attended the other symptoms, emetics were use¬
ful, as well as the saline draughts and other neutral
salts. When great debility, comatose or peripneu-
monic symptoms occurred, blisters were found very ser¬
viceable : but when dropsical symptoms were the prin¬
cipal cause of complaint, small doses of rhubarb and
calomel were advised recourse was also had to diluted
solutions of fixed alkalies, squills, Seltzer waters, and
other diuretics.
When the urine flows freely, steel and other tonics
are recommended j together with gentle exercise, high-
seasoned food, wine, and the wearing of flannel in con¬
tact with the skin.
Dr Withering concludes his essay with an enumera¬
tion of several cases, treated according to the principles Utticar
above laid down. The successful termination of these '-—-y.
cases demonstrates the propriety of the practice which
he has recommended; at least for the epidemic under
the form in which it then appeared.
Since Dr Withering’s publication, two other prac»
tices have obtained considerable celebrity in this disease.
The one is dashing cold water on the surface of the,
body in the manner recommended by Dr Currie in
proper fevers. It is, however, very certain that al¬
though this may obviate symptoms, and particularly
diminish the heat when very urgent, yet it never pro¬
duces an artificial termination of the disease as some
have alleged. When the contagion of scarlatina is in¬
troduced into a human body, never before subjected to
the disease, it must, like smallpox and measles, run a
certain course, and the attention of the practitioner
must merely be employed in endeavouring to render
that course as mild as he can, principally by obviating
urgent symptoms.
The "other remedy lately introduced, and highly
commended in scaidatina anginosa, is the oxygenated
muriatic acid. This has been particularly extolled by
Mr John Ayrey Braithwaite, surgeon at Lancaster.
One dram of the oxygenated muriatic acid is mixed
with eight ounces of distilled water. This quantity he
directs to be taken by a patient at the age of puberty
every day. But the quantity must be regulated by tlx;
age and situation of the patient. This remedy also is
very useful as obviating symptoms, particularly the af¬
fection of the throat. But with this intention we have
often employed it with great advantage.
Genus XXXIII. URTICARIA.
Nettle-rash.
Febris urticata, Vog. 40.
Uredo, Lt/i. 8.
Purpura urticata, Junck. 75.
Scarlatina urticata, Sauv. sp. 2.
Erysipelatis species altera, Sydenham, sect. vi.
cap. 6.
Febris scarlatina, et febris urticata, Meyserey,
Mai. des armees, 291 et seq.
Description. This disease has its English name of
nettle-rash from the resemblance of its eruption to that
made by the stinging of nettles. These little elevations
upon the skin in the nettle-rash often appear instant¬
aneously, especially if the skin be rubbed or scratched,
and seldom stay many hours in the same place, and
sometimes not many minutes. No part of the body is
exempt from them j and where many of them rise to¬
gether, and continue an hour or two, the parts are
often considerably swelled ; which particularly happens
in the face, arms, and hands. These eruptions will
continue to infest the skin, sometimes in one place and
sometimes in another, for one or two hours at a time,
two or three times every day, or perhaps for the
greatest part of the 24 hours.—In some persons they
last only a few days, in others many months *, nay,
sometimes the disease has lasted for years with very
shoi't intervals.
But though the eruption of the urticaria resembles,
as already observed, that produced by the stinging of
nettles,
pr tice.
he- nettles, It is sometimes accompanied with long weals,
n a. as if the part had been struck with a whip. What-
i—- *"“J ever be the shape of these eminences, they always ap¬
pear solid, without having any cavity or head con¬
taining either water or any other liquor : and this
affords an easy mark whereby this disease mav be di¬
stinguished from the itch. For it often happens, that
the insufferable itching with which this eruption is at¬
tended, provokes the patient to scratch the parts so
violently, that a small part of the cuticle on the top of
these little tumours is rubbed off’j a little scab succeeds •
and, when the swelling is gone down, there is left a a
appearance hardly to be distinguished from the itch,
but by the circumstance just now mentioned. The
nettle-rash also further differs from the itch, in not
being infectious.
Causes, &c. Dr Heberden is inclined to ascribe
this distemper to some mechanical cause outwardly ap¬
plied to the skin. He observes, that most people suf¬
fer in a similar manner from the real stinging of nettles.
Cowhage, or, as it is corruptly called, cow-itch, a
sort of phasedlus, or French bean, the pod of which
is covered over with a kind of down or hair, and the
effect ef which upon the skin is much the same as that
of nettles 5 and almost any hairs cut equally short, and
sprinkled upon the skin, whenever they happen to stick
in it, will make the part itch or smart in such a man¬
ner as to give great uneasiness \ it is also a considerable
time before the skin can be cleared of the liner ones,
when once they are strewed upon it.
Reaumur, in the fourth memoir of his History of
Insects, describes a species of caterpillars to which be¬
long a sort of hairs almost invisible to the naked eye,
which are easily detached, and frequently float in the
air round their nest, though it have not been at all
disturbed. The touch of these hairs has a similar effect
with the cow-itch j that is, they occasion intolerable
itchings with little bumps and redness, arising some¬
times to a slight inflammation. These he found would
continue four or five days, if the animal or the nest
had been much handled 5 and though they had not
been touched at all, yet by only walking near their
nests, the same effects would be brought on, but for a
shorter time. These hairs affect the skin in this man¬
ner by sticking in it, as he could perceive with a glass of
a great magnifyingpow’er ; for with one of a small power
they were not visible. The uneasy sensations caused by
these small wounds, not only, as he says, last several
days, but move from one part of the body to another 5 so
that they will cease upon one wrist, and immediately
begin on the other 5 from the wrist they will go to the
fingers or the face, or even to the parts of the body
which are covered. He supposes, that the motions of
the body, when much of this fine down lies near or upon
the skin, may drive it from one part to another, or
change what was lying there inoffensively to a situation
fit to make it penetrate into the skin. Neither cold
water, nor oil, nor spirit of wine, with which the
parts affected were bathed, had any effect in removing
the itching. He thinks the most efficacious remedy
which he tried for this complaint was, to rub the parts
strongly with parsley, which instantly lessened the sen¬
sations, and after two or three hours, entirely freed the
patient from them. It is also well known that many
species of caterpillars by only walking over the hands,
VOL. XIII. Fart I. t
345
will produce something like this effect on the parts Urticaria,
which they touchy and undoubtedly from the same
Cause.
Dr Heberden asks, Is it impossible that the nettle-
rash should arise from the same causes, or from others
similar, which we miss by looking too deeply for
them in the blood and humours ? Such, says, he, may
ha%e been its origin in some instances, where it has
lasted only a few days 5 but where this affection has
continued for some years, in persons who change their
linen every day, and who bathe frequently "all the
time, it can hardly be ascribed to such an external
cause. He has observed it frequently to arise from
cantharides: hut though it has continued many weeks
after the removal of the blister, yet it might be su¬
spected that this arose from the fine spiculoe of the
cantharides sticking all this time about the skin j it
being customary to strew much of the dry powder of
the cantharides over the blister-plaster, whence it mav
readily he carried to other parts of the body. But it
is certain that similar effects will sometimes follow the
internal use of wild valerian root, or the eating of fish
not sufficiently dressed \ muscles, shrimps, and even
honey, and the kernels of fruits, will also sometimes
produce symptoms of a similar kind. But whatever
be its cause, Dr Heberden never saw any reason to
suppose that the nettle-rash had in any way vitiated
the humours to such a degree as to require the use of
internal remedies ; and if the itching could be cer¬
tainly and expeditiously allayed, there would be no
occasion for any farther cure. He concludes this
history of the disorder with a case communicated
to him by Dr Mousey, physician of 'Chelsea College,
and in which the disease appeared with uncommon vio¬
lence.
W. A. aged 'near 30, of a thin spare habit, was
seized with a disorder attended with symptoms of a
very uncommon kind. Whenever he went into the
air, if the sun shined bright, he was seized with a
tickling of his flesh on those parts exposed to the sun:
this tickling, by his continuing in the air, increased to
a violent itching, attended with great heat and pain :
the skin would then be almost as red as vermilion, and
thicken like leather ; and this remained till he went out
of the open air, and then abated in about 15 or 20 mi-
autes. This happened only when the sun was above
the horizon ; at other times he was what he called
iiuite But it was not owing to the heat of the
sun $ for the sun in wduter affected him full as much,
if not more, and the heat of the fire had no such ef¬
fect. Thus he was confined to the house for 10 years.
He tried several hospitals, and had advices from many
physicians, without the least abatement of his com¬
plaints. At last it was agreed by a consultation of
physicians, that he should try dipping in salt water j
which he did at Yarmouth for 13 weeks, without any
visible amendment. One hot day, having pulled off
Iris clothes and gone into the sea in the middle of the
day, the heat diffused itself so violently all over Iris
body, that, by the time he had put on his clothes,
his eyesight began to fail, and he wras compelled to lie
down upon the ground to save himself from falling. The
moment he lay down, the faintness went oft’; upon this
he got up again ; but had no sooner arisen, than he
found himself in the former condition j lie therefore lay
X x down
MEDICI N E.
346
Exanthe- down again, and immediately recovered. He continued
mata. alternately getting up and lying down, till the disorder
1,“' began to be exhausted, which was in about half an
hour and he was frequently obliged to have recourse
to the same expedient.
Having at last accidentally met with Hr Monsey,
this physician questioned him concerning the cause of
the disorder 5 but nothing could be guessed at, ex-
cepting that the patient had owned he had one winter
lived entirely upon bullock’s liver and porter, from
inability to purchase better victuals. A comrade lived
with him at that time, on the same provisions; and
he also was affected in a similar manner, though in a
less degree, and had recovered. The patient was then
first put upon a course of Dover’s sweating powder
without any effect, and afteiwvards tried a course of ni¬
trous ones with the same bad success. At last Dr
Monsey determined to try the effect of mercury, which
happily proved effectual in removing this obstinate and
uncommon distemper. The patient began with taking
five grains of calomel for three nights running, and a
cathartic next morning. In this course he went on for
near a fortnight, at the end of which he found him¬
self very sensibly relieved. This encouraged him to go
on rather too boldly, by which means a slight saliva¬
tion ensued } however, that went oft’ soon, and in about
six wreeks he was quite well.—Some time after, he was
threatened writh a return of his disorder ; but this was
effectually relieved by a dose of calomel, which he had
afterwards occasion to repeat for the same reason, and
with the same success ; but at last the disorder seemed
to be radically cured, by his having no further symp¬
toms of a relapse.
232 Genus XXXIV. PEMPHIGUS.
Pemphigus, Sanv. gen. 93. Sag. 291.
Morta, Lin. 1.
Febvis bullosa, Vog. 41.
Pemphigus major, Sauv. sp. 1.
Exanthemata serosa, C. Piso?i. Obs. 150.
Febris pemphygodes, Ephem. Germ. D.I . A. viii.
Obs. 56.
Pemphigus castrensis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Febres syneches, cum vesiculis per pectus et col-
lum sparsis, Morton. App. ad Exerc. II.
Pemphigus Helveticus, Sauv. sp. 3. Langhans in
Act. Helvet. vol. ii. p. 260. et in Beschreibvng
des Siementhals, Zurich 1753.
This is a very rare disease, insomuch that Dr Cul¬
len declares he never saw it. He declines taking the
descriptions of foreign physicians : we shall therefore
content ourselves with giving an instance of this very
uncommon distemper, as it was observed in the Infir¬
mary at Aberdeen, and was treated by the late Dr
David Stuart, then physician to that hospital, who
soon after published an account of it in the Edinburgh
Medical Commentaries. A private soldier of the 73d
regiment, aged eighteen years, formerly a pedlar, and
naturally of a healthy constitution, was received into
the hospital at Aberdeen on the 25th of April. About
twenty days before that, he had been seized with the
measles when in the country ; and, in marching to
town, on the second day of their, eruption, he was ex¬
posed to cold} upon which they suddenly disappeared.
Practl
Having arrived at Aberdeen, he was quartered in a Pemp]l
damp, ill-aired, under-ground apartment. He tlisn'—-yv
complained of sickness at stomach, great oppression
about the praecordia, headach, lassitude, and weari¬
ness, on the least exertion j with stillness and rigidity
of his knees and other joints. The surgeon of the re¬
giment visited him : he was purged, but with little
benefit. About ten days befoi'e, he observed on the
inside of his thighs a number of very small, distinct
red spots, a little elevated above the surface of the
skin, and much resembling the first appearance of small¬
pox. This eruption gradually spread itself over his
whole body, and the pustules continued every day to in¬
crease in size.
Upon being received into the hospital, he complain¬
ed of headach, sickness at stomach, oppression about
the proecordia, thirst, sore throat, with difficulty of
swallowing 5 his tongue was foul, his skin felt hot and
feverish j pulse from no to 120, rather depressed j
belly costive ; eyes dull and languid, but without deli- 1
rium. The whole surface of his skin was interspersed
with vesicles, or phlyctsenae, of the size of an ordinary
walnut 5 many of them were larger, especially on the
arms and breast. In the interstices, between the vesi¬
cles, the appearance of the skin was natural, nor was
there any redness round their base ; the distance from
one to another was from half an inch to a hand-
breadth or more. In some places two or three were
joined together, like the pustules in the confluent small¬
pox. A few vesicles had burst of themselves, and form¬
ed a whitish scab or crust. These were chiefly on the
neck and face } others showed a tolerably laudable pus.
However, by far the greatest number were perfectly
entire, turgid, and of a bluish colour. Upon opening
them, it was evident that the cuticle elevated above
the cutis, and distended with a thin, yellowish, semi-
pellucid serum, formed this appearance. Nor was the
surface of the cutis ulcerated or livid ; but of a red
florid colour, as when the cuticle is separated by a
blister, or superficial burning. No other person la¬
boured under a similar disease, either in the part of the
country from which he came, or when he resided in
Aberdeen.
This case was treated in the following manner. The
largest of the vesicles were snipped, and dressed with
unguent, e Zap. calaminari. In the evening he was vo¬
mited with a solution of tartar emetic, given in small
quantities and at intervals. This also procured two
loose stools. And he was ordered for drink, water-
gruel acidulated with lemon juice.
“ April 16. He still complained ot sickness, some
oppression about his breast, and sore throat; he had
slept little during the night 5 his tongue was foul and
blackish ; his skin, however, was not so hot as the pre¬
ceding day *, his urine was high-coloured, but had the
appearance of separation ; his pulse 90, and soft; most
of the sores on the trunk of the body looked clean.
Others, particularly where the vesicles were confluent,
seemed beginning to ulcerate, and to have a bluish sub-
livid appearance. rI hey were dressed afresh with ce¬
rate, and he was ordered the following medicines :
Decoct. Cort. Peruvian, j;vj. Vini rubr. Lusitan.
3iij- M. Hujus mixtime capiat 3ft* tertia qua-
que hora.
M E D I C I N E.
“ His
M E D 1C 1 N E.
:tlce.
■the- “ His acidulated drink was continued j and on ac¬
ta. count of the very offensive smell on approaching near
him, some vinegar was placed in a bason before the
bed, and sprinkled on the floor j and the room was
kept properly aired.
“ April 17. His sores looked tolerably clean, un¬
less on his arms and thighs j where they were livid, a
little ulcerated, and discharged a bloody ichor.
“ His headach, sickness, Sec. were almost gone; his
tongue was rather cleaner; pulse 68, and soft. As
the decoction of the bark sat easily on his stomach, the
following prescription was ordered :
Pulv. subtiliss. Cort. Peruv. Vini rubri Lu-
sitan. Aquas fontan. aa 3ss. M. ft. Haust. tertia
quaque hora repetend.
The acidulated drink was continued, and fresh dressings
applied to the sores.
“ April 18. The little ulcers in his arms and thighs
still discharged a bloody ichor, and looked ill; his other
complaints were better ; pulse 82. The bark had not
nauseated him, and it was continued as well as his for¬
mer drink.
“ April 19. His sores looked much cleaner and
better ; the fever was gone, his pulse natural, and he
had no complaint but weakness and a troublesome
itching of the skin : The Peruvian bark, &c. were
continued.
“ April 20. Some of the ulcers still poured forth a
bloody ichor; most of them, however, looked well,
and had begun to heal—fever gone—medicines conti¬
nued.
“ From the 21st of April, he went on gaining
strength, and his sores appeared to heal fast; he was
desired to take only four doses every day ; and by the
27th his sores, &c. were totally dried up—he had no
complaint, and was dismissed cured.”
Since the publication of this case of pemphigus by
Dr Stuart, observations on this disease have been pu¬
blished by I)r Stephen Dickson of Dublin, in the Trans¬
actions of the Royal Irish Academy. In these obser¬
vations, an account is given of six different cases which
Dr Dickson has had an opportunity of seeing. Judging
from these, Dr Dickson thinks that Dr Cullen’s defini¬
tion of this disease requires correction ; and that it
ought to be defined, “ a fever accompanied with the
successive eruption, from different parts of the body,
internal as well as external, of vesicles about the siz.e of
an almond, w’hich become turgid with a faintly yellow¬
ish serum, and in three or four days subside.”
From the cases which have fallen under Dr Dick¬
son’s observation, he concludes, that the disease varies
considerably as to its mildness or malignity. In three
of the cases which he has seen, the symptoms were ex¬
tremely mild, but in the other three strong symptoms of
putrescency were manifested, and the life of the patient
was in great danger. With respect to the method of
cure, he is of opinion, that the general symptoms of
tveakness, and tendency to putrefaction, obviously point
out the proper treatment. Nourishment must be supplied,
and the Peruvian bark and wine carefully administered;
and when vesicles appear on internal parts, irritation
must be guarded against by opiates, demulcents, and
gentle laxatives.'
Home additional observations on the subject of pem¬
phigus have lately been published in the London Me¬
dical Journal by Mr Thomas Christie. From a case
which Mr Christie describes, he is disposed to agree
with Mr Dickson in thinking that sometimes at least
pemphigus is not contagious. He remarks, however,
that the pemphigus described by some foreign writers
was extremely infectious; which he thinks may lead
to a division of the disease into two species, the pem¬
phigus simplex and complicatus : both of which, but
especially the last, seem to vary much with respect to
mildness and malignity.
Genus XXXV. APHTHA.
The Thrush.
Aphtha, Sauv. gen. 100. Lin. 9. Sag. 298-
Boerh. 978. Hoffm. H. 478. Junck. 137.
Febris aphthosa, Vog. 44.
The only idiopathic species is the thrush to which
infants are subject; (Aphtha lactucimen, Sauv. sp. 1.)
The aphthae are whitish or ash-coloured pustules, in¬
vading the uvula, fauces, palate, tonsils, inside ot the
cheeks, gums, tongue, and lips. They for the most
part begin at the uvula, sending forth a glutinous mu¬
cus, and the pustules covering all or the greatest
number of the parts above mentioned, with a thick
whitish crust adhering most tenaciously. 'J his crust
does not induce an eschar on the parts on which it
lies by eating into them, but comes off in whole pieces
after the pustules have arrived at maturity. Ibis will
often happen in a short time, so that the throat and
internal parts of the mouth are frequently observed to
he clean, which a few hours before were wholly cover¬
ed with white crusts. Neither is this disease confined
to the throat and fauces, but is said to aftect the oeso¬
phagus, stomach, and all parts of the alimentary canal.
Of this indeed there is no other proof, than that, after
a great difficulty of swallowing, there is sometimes an
immense quantity ol aphthae evacuated by stool and
vomiting, such as the mouth could not be thought ca¬
pable of containing.
Causes, &c. The aphthous fever seems to lie pro¬
duced by cold and moisture, as it is found only in the
northern countries, and especially in marshy places ;
and in them the aphthae often appear without any fever
at all.
Bi'ognosis. There is no symptom by which the
coming out of aphthae can be foretold, though they are
common in many fevers ; but they themselves are in
general a bad symptom, and alw'ays signify a very te¬
dious disorder : the danger denoted by them is in pro¬
portion to the difficulty of deglutition ; and a diar¬
rhoea accompanying them is likewise bad. I his in¬
deed generally carries off old people when they be¬
come affected with aphthae. The dark-coloured aph¬
tha; also are much more dangerous than such as are ol
a brown or ash colour ; but it is a good sign when the
appetite returns, and the dark-coloured ones are suc¬
ceeded by others of a whiter colour. Neither are those
which are unaccompanied with fever so dangerous as
the other kind.
Cure. As the aphthae are seldom a primary disease,
we must generally endeavour to remove the disorder
upon which they'depend, after which they will fall
1 X X 2 oft;
348 M E D I
Haemor- offj but in the mean time we are not to neglect appli-
rhagiiB. cations to the aplithce themselves, such as detergent and
' softening gargles made of the decoction of figs, with the
addition of honey of roses, a little vinegar, and some
tincture of myrrh.
234 Order IV. HiEMORRHAGIiE.
Haemorrhages.
Haemorrhagiae, Vog. Class. II. Ord. I. Hojfm. II.
194. Junck. 5.
Sanguifluxus, Sauv. Class IX. Ord. I. Sap. Class V.
Ord. I.
-.15 Genus XXXVI. EPISTAXIS.
Bleeding at the Nose.
Haemorrhagia, Sauv. gen. 239. Lin. 173. Sag. gen*
174.
Haemorrhagia narium, Hoffm. II. 196. Junck. 6.
Haemorrhagia plethorica, Sauv. sp. 22. Hojfm. II.
198.
The other species enumerated by authors are all
symptomatic.
Description. The milder species of this haemorrhage
comes on more frequently in summer than in winter,
and for the most part without giving any warning, or
being attended with any inconvenience 5 but the less
benign kind is preceded by several remarkable symp¬
toms. 1 hese are, congestions of the blood sometimes
in one part, and sometimes in another, and which are
often very troublesome in the sides of the head : there
is a redness of the cheeks ; an inflation of the face,
and of the vessels of the neck and temples j a tinnitus
aunum ; a heavy pain of the eyes, with a prominence,
dryness, and sparks j there is a vertiginous affection of
the. head, with an itching of the nostrils, and a sense of
weight, especially about the root of the nose. In some
the sleep is disturbed with dreams about blood, fire,&c.
1 icquently the belly is costive, there is a diminution of
the quantity of urine, a suppression of sweat, coldness
of the lower extremities, and tension of the hypochon¬
dria, especially the right one.
Causes,. &c.. This haemorrhage may occur at any
time of life ; nut most commonly happens to young
Persons, owing to the peculiar state of the system at
that time. Sometimes, however, it happens after the
ay.pn and during the state of manhood, at which time
it is to be imputed to a plethoric state of the system • to
a determination of the blood, by habit, to the'vessels of
the nose; or to the particular weakness of these ves¬
sels.
In.all these cases the disease may be considered as an
aiterial haemorrnage, and depending upon an arterial
plethora; but it sometimes occurs in the decline of
life, and may then be considered as the sign of a ve¬
nous plethora in the vessels of the head. I? often hap¬
pens at any period of life in certain febrile diseases,
■which aie altogether or partly of an inflammatory na¬
ture, and which show a particular determination of the
blood to the vessels of the head. As by this evacua¬
tion, other diseases are often removed, it may on these
CINE. PractL
occasions be deemed truly critical. It happens to per- Epis I
sons of every constitution and temperament; but most v-"“\ j
frequently to the plethoric and sanguine, and more com¬
monly to men than women.
Prognosis. In young people, the bleeding at the
nose may be considered as a slight disease, and scarce
worth notice. Rut, even in young persons, when it re¬
curs frequently and in great quantity, it is alarm¬
ing ; and is to be considered as a mark of an arterial
plethora, which in the decline of life may give the
blood a determination to parts from which the liEemor-
rhage would be more dangerous ; and tin's will require
more particular attention, as the marks of plethora and
congestion preceding the haemorrhage are more consi¬
derable, and as the flowing of the blood is attended
with a more considerable degree of febrile disorder.
These consequences are more especially to be dreaded,
when the epistaxis happens to persons after their azpj,
returning frequently and violently. Even in the de¬
cline of life, however, it may be considered as in itself
very salutary ; but at the same time it is a mark of a
dangerous state of the system, i. e. of a strong tend¬
ency to venous plethora in the head, and it has ac¬
cordingly been often followed by apoplexy, palsy, &c.
When it happens in febrile diseases, and is in pretty
large quantity, it may generally be considered as criti¬
cal and salutary; but it is very apt to be too profuse,
and thus becomes dangerous. Jt sometimes occurs du¬
ring the eruptive fever of some exanthemata, and is in
such cases sometimes salutary ; but if these exanthema¬
ta be accompanied with any putrid disposition, this hae¬
morrhage, as well as artificial bloodlettings, may have
a very bad tendency.
Cure, ffhe treatment in cases of epistaxis may be
referred to two heads. 1st, The treatment during the
time ot the discharge; and, 2dly, The treatment after
the discharge is stopt, with the view of preventing the
return of it. During the former of these periods, it
is necessary in the first place to consider whether the
discharge should be left to its natural course, or stop¬
ped by artificial means. In determining this question,
regard must be paid to the quantity of the discharge ;
the appearance of the blood; the constitution w ith
which epistaxis occurs; the former habit of the pa¬
tient ; and the consequences which result from the
discharge. W hen, from due consideration of these cir¬
cumstances, there is reason to fear that further eva¬
cuation would be attended with bad consequences,
though this disease has been generally thought very
slight, it should seldom be left to the conduct of na¬
ture ; and in all cases it should be moderated by keep¬
ing the patient in cool air, by giving cold drink, by
keeping the body and head erect, by avoiding any
blowing of the nose, speaking, or other irritation; and
if the blood has flowed for some time without showing
any tendency to stop, we are to attempt the suppres¬
sion of the haemorrhage, by pressing the nostril from
which the blood flows, washing the face with cold wa¬
ter, or applying this to some other parts of the body.
These measures Dr Cullen judges to be proper even on
tl16 first.attaeks, and even in young persons where the dis¬
ease is. in the least hazardous : but they will still be more
requisite if the disdase frequently recurs without any
external violence; if the returns happen to persons not
/
] acti
pmor-
affise-
ce.
M E D I
disposed to a plethoric habit j and more particularly if
no signs of plethora appear in the symptoms preceding
the discharge.
When the bleeding is so profuse that the pulse be¬
comes weak and the face pale, every means must be
used to put a stop to it, and that whether the patient
be young or old. Besides those methods above men¬
tioned, we must use astringents both internal and ex¬
ternal ", but the latter are the most powerful, and the
choice of these may be left to the surgeon. The in¬
ternal astringents are either vegetable or fossil 5 but
the vegetable astringents are seldom powerful in the
cure of any haemorrhages except those of the alimen¬
tary canal. The fossil astringents are more active, but
differ considerably in strength from one another.—
The chalybeates appear to have little strength : the
preparations of lead are more powerful 5 but cannot be
employed, on account of their pernicious qualities, un¬
less in cases of the utmost danger. The tinctura satur¬
nine!, or antiphthisica, is a medicine of very little effi¬
cacy, either from the small quantity of lead it contains,
or from the particular state in which it is. The safest
and at the same time the most powerful astringent,
seems to be alum.
For suppressing this and other haemorrhages, many
superstitious remedies and charms have been used, and
said to have been employed with success. This has
probably been owing to the mistake of the by-standers,
who have supposed that the spontaneous cessation of
the haemorrhage was owing to their remedy. At the
same time Dr Cullen is-of opinion, that such remedies
have sometimes been useful, by impressing the mind
with horror or dread. Opiates have sometimes proved
successful in removing haemorrhages ; and when the
fulness and inflammatory diathesis of the system have
been previously taken off’ by bleeding, they may, in Dr
Cullen’s opinion, be used with safety and advantage.
Ligatures have been applied upon the limbs, for retard¬
ing the return of the venous blood from the extremi¬
ties ; but their use seems to be ambiguous. In the case
of profuse haemorrhages, no care is to be taken to pre¬
vent the patient from fainting, as this is often the most
certain means of stopping them.
Genus XXXVII. HAEMOPTYSIS.
Spitting of Blood.
Haemoptysis, Suuv. gen. 240. Lin. 179. Vog. 84.
Sag. gen. 175. Junck. 8.
Haemoptoc,-Boe/A. 1198.
Sanguinis fluxus ex pulmonihus, lloffm. II. 202.
Sp. I. Haemoptysis from Plethora.
Sp. II. Hemoptysis from External Violence.
Haemoptysis accidentalis, Sauv. sp. I.
Haemoptysis habitualis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Haemoptysis traumatica, Sauv. sp. 1 2.
Sp. III. Haemoptysis with Phthisis.
Haemoptysis phthisica, Sauv. sp. 9.
Haemoptysis ex tuberculo pulmonum, Sauv. sp. 10.
Sp. IV. The Calculous Haemoptysis.
Haemoptysis calculosa, Sauv. sp. 14.
CINE.
Sp. V. The Vicarious Hemoptysis.
Haemoptysis catamenialis, Sauv. sp. 4.
Haemoptysis periodica, Saicv. sp. 5.
549
Haemop¬
tysis.
Description. This haemorrhage commonly begins with
a sense of weight and anxiety in the chest, some unea¬
siness in breathing, pain of the breast or other parts of
the thorax, and some sense of heat under the sternum :
and very often it is preceded by a saltish taste in the
mouth. Immediately before the appearance of blood,
a degree of irritation is felt at the top of the larynx.
The person attempts to relieve this by hawking, which
brings up a little florid and somewhat frothy blood.
The irritation returns $ and in the same manner blood
of a similar kind is brought up, with some noise in the
windpipe, as of air passing through a fluid. Some¬
times, however, at the very first, the blood comes up
with coughing, or at least somewhat of coughing, and
accompanies the hawking above mentioned.
The blood is often at first in very small quantity, and
soon disappears ; but in other cases, especially when it
frequently recurs, it is in greater quantity, and often
continues to appear at times for several days together.
It is sometimes profuse, but rarely in such quantity as
either by its excess or by a sudden suffocation to prove
immediately mortal.
It is not always easy to discover whether the blood
evacuated by the mouth proceeds from the internal
surface of the mouth itself, from the fauces or adjoin¬
ing cavities of the nose, from the stomach, or from the
lungs. It is, however, very necessary to distinguish
these different cases ; and for this Dr Cullen offers the
following considerations.
1. When the blood proceeds from some part of the
internal surface of the mouth, it comes out without
any hawking or coughing j and generally, upon in¬
spection, the cause is evident.
2. When blood proceeds from the fauces, or adjoin¬
ing cavities of the nose, it may be brought out by haw¬
king, and sometimes by coughing. In this case, there
may be a doubt concerning its real source, and the pa¬
tient may be allowed to please himself with the thoughts
that the blood does not come from the lungs. But the
physician must remember that the lungs are much more
frequently the source of a haemorrhage than the fauces.
The latter seldom happens but to persons who have be¬
fore been liable to a haemorrhage from the nose, or to
some evident cause of erosion } and in most cases, by
looking into the fauces, the distillation of the blood
from thence will be perceived.
3. When blood proceeds from the lungs, the man¬
ner in which it is brought up will commonly show from
whence it comes 5 but, independent of that, it may
also be known from the causes of haemoptysis from
the lungs, to be afterwards mentioned, having pre¬
ceded.
4. When vomiting accompanies the throwing out
of blood from the mouth, mm may generally know the
source from whence it proceeds, by considering that
blood does not proceed so frequently from the stomach
as from the lungs : that blood proceeding from the
stomach commonly appears in greater quantity than
from the lungs. The pulmonary blood also is usually
of a florid colour, and mixed with a little frothy
mucus
350
MEDICINE.
Eractk)
H*moiv mucus only j but tbe blood from the stomach is of a
rhagia?. darker colour, more grumous, and mixed with the
other contents of the stomach. The coughing or
i vomiting, as the one or the other happens first to
arise, may sometimes point out the source of the blood $
and this has also its peculiar antecedent signs and
causes.
Causes, &c. A haemoptysis may be produced at any
time of life by external violence ) and, in adult per¬
sons, while the arterial plethora prevails in the system,
i. e. from the age of 16 to 35, a hsemoptysis may at
any time be produced merely by a plethoric state of
the lungs. More frequently, however, it arises from
a faulty proportion between the capacity of the lungs
and that of the rest of the body. Thus it is often an
hereditary disease, which implies a peculiar and faulty
conformation.
This disease especially happens to persons, who dis¬
cover the smaller capacity of their lungs by the nar¬
rowness of their chest, and by the prominence of their
shoulders ; which last is a mark of their having been
long liable to a difficulty of respiration. In such cases,
too, the disease very frequently happens to persons of
a sanguine temperament, in w hom particularly the ar¬
terial plethora prevails. It happens also to persons of a
slender delicate make, of which a long neck is a mark ;
to persons of much sensibility and irritability, and there¬
fore of quick parts j to persons wrho have formerly been
liable to haemorrhages from the nose : to those w'ho
have suffered a suppression of any usual haemorrhage,
the most frequent instance of which is in females who
have suffered a suppression of their menstrual flux ; and,
lastly, to persons who have suffered the amputation of
a limb.
All this constitutes the predisponent cause of hae¬
moptysis ; and the disease may happen merely from
the predisponent cause arising to a considerable height.
But in those who are already predisposed, it is often
brought on by the concurrence of various occasional
and exciting causes. One of these, and perhaps a fre¬
quent one, is external heat ; which, even when in no
great degree, brings on the disease in spring, and the
beginning of summer, while the heat rarefies the blood
more than it relaxes the solids, which had before been
contracted by the cold of winter. Another exciting
cause is a sudden diminution of ihe weight of the at¬
mosphere, especially when concurring with any effort
in bodily exercise. The effort alone, may often be the
exciting cause in those who are already predisposed 5 and
more particularly any violent exercise of respiration. In
the predisposed, also, the disease may be occasioned by
any degree of external violence.
P? •ogvosis. Haemoptysis may sometimes be no more
dangerous than a haemorrhage from the nose; as when
it happens to females, in consequence of a suppression
of their menses; when, without any marks of predis¬
position, it arises from external violence ; or, from
whatever cause it may proceed, when it leaves no cough,
dyspnoea, or other affection of the lungs, behind it.
But, even in these cases, a danger may arise from too
iarge a wound being made in the vessels of the lungs,
irom any quantity of red blood being led to stagnate in
tbe cavity of the bronchia;, and particularly from any
determination of the blood being made into the vessels
of the lungs, which by renewing the haemorrhage may
have these consequences.
Cure. In the treatment of this disease, with a view
of stopping the discharge, it is first necessary to have
recourse to those measures which tend to diminish the
impetus by which the blood is expelled. This is to
he effected by a removal of plethora when it exists j by
diminishing the general impetus of circulation ; by di¬
minishing local increased action when it takes place in
the vessels of the lungs j and by producing a determi¬
nation of blood to other parts of the system remote
from the lungs. But besides practices diminishing
impetus, it is often also necessary to employ such as
augment the resistance to the passage of blood through
the ruptured vessels of the lungs. With these views
a variety of practices may be employed, particularly
blood-letting, refrigerants, sedatives, astringents, and
the like.
On this subject Dr Cullen differs from those who
prescribe chalybeates and cinchona in the cure of hae¬
moptysis. Both of these, he observes, contribute to
increase tbe phlogistic diathesis then prevailing in the
system, and the haemoptysis from predisposition is al¬
ways accompanied with such a diathesis. Instead of
these, therefore, he recommends blood-letting in great¬
er or smaller quantity, and more or less frequently re¬
peated as the symptoms shall direct. At the same
time cooling purgatives are to be employed, and every
part of the antiphlogistic regimen is to be strictly
enjoined. In the London Medical Observations, the
use of nitre is greatly recommended by Dr Dickson, to
whom its efficacy was made known by Dr Letherland,
physician to St Thomas’s Hospital. The most commo¬
dious method of exhibiting it he found was in an elec¬
tuary. Four ounces of conserve of roses were made in¬
to an electuary with half an ounce of nitre ; of which
the hulk of a large nutmeg was directed to be given,
four, six, or eight times a day, according to the urgency
of the case. The good effects of this, he tells us, have
often astonished him : and when given early in the dis¬
ease, he says he can depend as much upon it for tbe
cure of an haemoptysis, as on cinchona for the cure of
an intermittent. He agrees with Dr Cullen, however,
that in those cases where there is any hardness in the
pulse, and which almost always happens, there is a ne¬
cessity for venesection. A cool regimen, and quiet of
body and mind, are certainly useful ; hut Dr Cullen
observes that some kinds of gestation, such as sailing,
and travelling in an easy carriage on smooth roads, have
often proved a remedy. When the cough is very trou¬
blesome, it is absolutely necessary to exhibit frequently
a small dose of an opiate. Dr Dickson also informs us,
that tbe nitre joined with spermaceti, e>x pulv. e traga-
caiiih. comp, has produced equally good effects with the
electuary above mentioned ; in the composition of which
he at first considered the conserve only as a vehicle tor
the nitre, though he means not to insinuate that the
former is totally destitute of efficacy.
W hen this haemorrhage has resisted other modes of
cure, and there is reason to apprehend, even from the
mere quantity of blood evacuated, that the patient may
sink under the discharge, blisters, particularly when
applied to the breast, are oiten had recourse to with
great advantage 5 and the sulphuric acid, properly di¬
lute!!,
I
MEDICINE.
luted, both as an astringent and refrigerant, is often
employed with very good effects.
PHTHISIS.
Pulmonary Consumption.
Phthisis, Sauv. gen. 276. Lin. 208. Vog. 319.
Sag. 101. Junck. 33.
Phthisis pulmonis, Boerh. 1196.
Afl’ectio phthisica, sive tabgs pulmonalis, Hoffm. II.
284.
Sp. I. The Incipient Phthisis, without expectoration
of Pus.
Phthisis incipiens, Morton Physiolog. L. II. cap. 3.
Phthisis sicca, Sauv. sp. 1.
Sp. II. The Confirmed Phthisis, with an expectora¬
tion of Pus.
Phthisis confirmata auctomm.
Phthisis humida, Sauv. sp. 2.
Sometimes, notwithstanding all the care that can be
taken, the haemoptysis will degenerate into a phthisis
pulmonalis, or consumption of the lungs •, and some¬
times haemoptysis will be the consequence of this dan¬
gerous disorder. It has indeed been supposed, that
an ulceration of the lungs, or phthisis, was the natural
and almost necessary consequence of haemoptysis : but
according to Dr Cullen, this is in general a mistake;
for there are many instances of a haemoptysis from
external violence without being followed by any ulcer¬
ation. The same thing has often been observed where
the haemoptysis arose from an internal cause ; and this
not only in young persons, when the disease returned
for several times, but when it has often recurred during
the course of a long life j and it may easily he conceiv¬
ed, that a rupture of the vessels of the lungs, as well as
of the vessels of the nose, may be sometimes healed.
The causes of phthisis, therefore, Dr Cullen reduces to
five heads. 1. A haemoptysis. 2. A suppuration of
the lungs in consequence of a pneumonia. 3. A ca¬
tarrh. 4. An asthma } and, 5. Tubercles.
1. When a phthisis arises from a haemoptysis, it is
probable that it is occasioned by particular circum¬
stances 5 and what these circumstances are, may not al¬
ways be easily known. It is possible, that merely the
degree of rupture, or frequently repeated rupture, pre¬
venting the wound from healing, may occasion an ul¬
cer } or it is possible, that red blood effused, and not
brought up entirely by coughing, may, by stagnating
in the bronchia:, become acrid, and erode the parts.
But these hypotheses are not supported by any certain
evidence j and from many observations we are led to
think, that several other circumstances must concur in
producing the disease from haemoptysis.
2. The second cause of an ulceration of the lungs
mentioned above is a suppuration formed in conse¬
quence of pneumonia. When a pneumonia, with symp¬
toms neither very violent nor very slight, has conti¬
nued f*r many days, it is to be feared it will end in a
suppuration} but this is not to be determined by the
number of days •, for, not only after the fourth, but
even after the tenth day, there have been examples of
a pneumonia ending by a resolution ; and if the dis¬
ease has suffered some intermission, and again recurred,
there may be instances of a resolution happening at a
much later period from the beginning of the disease
than that now mentioned. But if a moderate disease,
in spite ot proper remedies employed, be protracted to
the 14th day without any considerable remission, a sup¬
puration is pretty certainly to be expected j and it will
be more certain still, if no signs of resolution have ap¬
peared, or if an expectoration which had appeared shall
have agamed ceased, and the difficulty of breathing has
continued or increased, while the other symptoms have
been rather abated.
That in a pneumonia, the effusion is made which
may lay the foundation of a suppuration, may be con¬
cluded from the difficulty of breathing becoming
greater wnen the patient is in a horizontal posture, or
when the patient can lie more easily on the affected
side. That, in such cases, a suppuration is actually
begun, may be inferred from the patient’s being fre¬
quently affected with slight cold shiverings, and with a
sense of cold felt sometimes in one sometimes in an¬
other part of the body. We form the same conclu¬
sion also from the state of the pulse, which is com¬
monly less frequent and softer, but sometimes quicker
than before. That a suppuration is already formed,
may be inferred from there being a considerable re¬
mission of the pain which had before subsisted ; while
with this the cough, and especially the dyspnoea, con¬
tinue, and are rather increased. At the same time
the frequency of the pulse is rather increased, the fe¬
verish state suffers considerable exacerbations every
evening, and by degrees a hectic fever in all its- cir¬
cumstances comes to be formed.
In this state of symptoms, we conclude very confi¬
dently, that an abscess, or, as it is called, a vomica, is
formed in some part of the pleura, and most frequently
in that portion of it investing the lungs. Here purulent
matter frequently remains for some time, as if enclosed
in a cyst; but commonly not long before it comes to
he either absorbed and transferred to some other part
of the body, or breaks through into the cavity of the
lungs, or into that of the thorax. In the latter case it
produces the disease called empyema ; but it is when
the matter is poured into the cavity of the bronchioe
that it properly constitutes the phthisis pulmonalis. In
the case of empyema, the chief circumstances of a
phthisis are indeed also present: but we shall here con¬
sider only that case in which the abscess of the lungs
gives occasion to purulent expectoration.
An abscess of the lungs, in consequence of pneumo-
mia, is not always followed by a phthisis: for some¬
times a hectic fever is not formed j the matter poured
into the bronchiae is a proper and benign pus, which
frequently is coughed up very readily, and spit out j
and though this purulent expectoration should continue
for some time, if it be without hectic fever, the ulcer
soon heals, and every morbid symptom disappears.
This has so frequently happened, that we may con¬
clude, that neither the access of the air, nor the con¬
stant motion of the lungs, will prevent an ulcer of
these pai'ts from healing, if the matter of it be well-
conditioned. An abscess of the lungs, therefore, does
not necessarily produce phthisis pulmonalis j and if it
be followed by such a disease, it must be in conse¬
quence of particular circumstances which corrupt the
purulent
351
Phthisis.
552 M E D I
Hajmor- purulent matter produced, render it unsuitable to the
rhagise. healing of the ulcer, and at the same time make it af-
 ' ford an acrimony, which, absorbed, produces a hectic
fever and its consequences.
The corruption of the matter of such abscesses may
he owing to several causes ; as, I. That the matter ef¬
fused during the inflammation had not been a pure se¬
rum fit to he converted into a laudable pus, hut had been
joined with other matters which prevented that, and
gave a considerable acrimony to the whole. Or, 2. That
the matter effused and converted into pus, merely by
long stagnation in a vomica, or by its connexion with
an empyema, had been so corrupted as to become unfit
for the purpose of pus in the healing of the ulcer.
These seem to be possible causes of the corruption of
matter in abscesses, so as to make it the occasion of a
phthisis in persons otherwise sound; hut it is probable
that a pneumonic abscess especially produces phthisis
when it happens to persons previously disposed to that
disease, and therefore only as concurring with some
other causes of it.
3. The third cause supposed to produce a phthisis
is a catarrh ; which, in many cases, seems in length of
time to have the expectoration of mucus proper to it
gradually changed to an expectoration of pus 5 and at
the same time, by the addition of a hectic fever, the
disease, which was at first a pure catarrh, is changed
into a phthisis. But this supposition is, in the opinion
at least of some physicians, liable to several difficulties.
The catarrh is properly an affection of the mucous
glands of the trachea and bronchiae, analogous to the
coryza and less violent kinds of cynanche tonsillaris,
which very seldom end in suppuration. And although
a catarrh should be supposed to do so, the ulcer produ¬
ced might readily heal up, as it does in the case of a
cynanche tonsillaris ; and therefoi'e should not produce
a phthisis.
Farther, The catarrh, as purely the effect of cold, is
generally a mild disease as well as of short duration }
and, according to Dr Cullen, there are at most hut
very few of the numerous cases of it, which can he said
to have ended in a phthisis. In all these cases in which
this seems to have happened, he thinks it probable that
the persons affected wfere peculiarly predisposed to
phthisis j and the beginning of phthisis so often resem¬
bles a catarrh, that it may have been mistaken for such
a disease. It often happens also, to increase the fal¬
lacy, that the application of cold, which is the most
frequent cause of catarrh, is also frequently the exciting
cause of the cough, which proves to be the beginning
of a phthisis.
Many physicians have supposed that an acrimony of
the fluids eroding some of the vessels of the lungs is a
frequent cause of ulceration and phthisis *, hut this ap¬
pears to Dr Cullen to be a mere supposition. He ac¬
knowledges, that in many cases in acrimony subsisting
in some part of the fluids is the cause of the disease ;
but observes that it is at the same time probable, that
this acrimony operates by producing tubercles, rather
than by any direct erosion
But, notwithstanding these objections, experience
aflords numerous examples of cases in which a disease
long subsisting under the form of catarrh has at last de¬
generated into phthisis, and proved fatal from super¬
vening hectic fever. It must, however, at the same
2
CINE. Practice
time he allowed, that catarrh, degenerating into a j
chronic state after subsisting for many years, has of it-
self often proved fatal without inducing phthisis.
4. If phthisis does not frequently follow catarrh, it
is still more rarely a consequence oi asthma. Innumer¬
able examples are unquestionably afforded of that dis¬
ease subsisting for many years without any symptom
whatever of phthisis as a consequence of it. But, at
the same time, there are unquestionable examples of
phthisis deriving its origin from asthma •, which, how¬
ever, probably happens only in cases Avhere a peculiar
state of the lungs at the same time takes place. But,
without the concurrence of asthma, this state would
not of itself have been sufficient for inducing the af¬
fection.
5. Of all the causes formerly mentioned, phthisis
most frequently arises from tubercles. Dr Simmons
informs us, that he has had opportunities of inspecting
the bodies of many people who died in this way, and
never found them totally absent. He has likewise seen
them in subjects ol different ages, who had been trou¬
bled with no symptoms of an affection of the breast
during their lifetime. In these, however, they were
small, and few in number. This proves that they may
exist without inconvenience till they begin to disturb
the functions of the lungs by their size and number j
or till some degree of inflammation he excited, either
by accidental causes, or by certain changes that take
place within their substance ; for as yet we know hut
little of their true nature. These little tumours vary in
their consistence 3 in some they are composed of a
pulpy substance, and in others approach more to the
nature of scirrhus. They are most commonly formed
in consequence of a certain constitutional predisposi¬
tion 3 but whatever is capable of occasioning a morbid
irritability of the lungs seems also to be capable of ge¬
nerating them. Thus the spasmodic asthma frequent¬
ly ends in tubercles and consumption 3 and it is not
unusual for millers, stone-cutters, and others, to die
consumptive, from their being so constantly exposed
to dust, which in these cases probably acts by produ¬
cing similar concretions ; Dr Kirkland observes, that
scythe-grinders are subject to a disease of the lungs,
from particles of sand mixing with iron dust, which
among themselves they call the grinders rot. Tu¬
bercles, however, in by much the greater number of
instances, have their source from a scrophulous dis¬
position 5 and some eminent phvsicians have supposed
that the generality of pulmonary consumptions are of
this kind. This notion, however, they have perhaps
carried too far : they have probably been misled by
those tuberculous concretions which, without good rea¬
son, have been supposed to be diseased glands, and of
course analogous to the glandular affections we meet
with in the scrophula. Tubercles may likewise some¬
times he owing to the sudden repulsion of cutaneous
eruptions, or of the matter of exanthemata, &.c. or to
other causes.
The persons who are most liable to consumption are
those of a fair complexion, fine and soft skin, florid
cheeks, and a slender make 3 with high cheek-bones,
hollow temples, long neck, shoulders standing out like
wings, narrow chest, and a remarkable prominence of
the processes of the os sacrum. To these marks we
may add, that of sound teeth, which, as the disease ad¬
vances,
r
ictice. MED!
■mor- vanceS, visually become of a milky white colour, and
more or less transparent. Of those who are carried oft'
v by this disease, Dr Simmons asserts, the greater num¬
ber will be found never to have had a carious tooth.
This circumstance, however, does not seem to us to
hold so generally as Dr Simmons is disposed to ima¬
gine : and instances not unfrequently occur of patients
dying of phthisis, although they have had many teeth
subjected to caries j and some of these beginning even
at an early period of life.
Persons of the above description often remain for
a long time without feeling any other inconvenience
than some oppression at the breast in moist weather,
or in hot apartments. Their breathing is easily hur¬
ried, sometimes by the slightest motion; and they be¬
come languid, paler, and thinner. All this time,
however, they feel no heat or painful sensation in the
breast. As the evil increases, the patient begins to
be attacked with a slight, frequent, and dry cough,
which is most troublesome in the night time. But
this, by proper care, is often relieved j and the patient
remains in this state for a considerable time, and even
for many years, if he be sensible of his danger, and
careful to guard against it by a suitable manner of liv¬
ing. More commonly, however, we find the cough
increasing, and sometimes accompanied with more or
less catarrh. This is usually ascribed to cold ; and
but too generally neglected, till the disease becomes
alarming by its obstinacy and its effects. This may
be considered as the beginning, or first period, of the
disease. During this stage, the cough is sometimes
dry from the first: and sometimes when it begins in
the form of a catarrh, is attended with more or less
expectoration of mucus.
M hen the cough begins in the form of a catarrh,
and appears to be occasioned by an increased secretion
of a thin saltish mucus irritating the membrane of the
trachea, all judicious practitioners agree in recom¬
mending an attention to regimen, the free use of dilut¬
ing liquors, bland emulsions, small doses of nitre, the
taking away a few ounces of blood if there be much
inflammation, the inhaling the steams of warm water
by means of the machine contrived for that purpose,
and the occasional use of such a dose of elixir parego-
ricum as will be sufficient to allay the irritation of the
bronchiae, and to promote a general moisture on the
skin. Ihese methods will generally be found to be
efficacious, especially if the patient’s chamber be of a
moderate temperature, and he carefully avoid exposure
to a cold, damp, or raw air, till the complaint be re¬
moved. In cases in which the cough has been obsti¬
nate, and the inflammatory symptoms considerable,
Dr Simmons has often experienced the great advan¬
tages of the warm bath, the heat of which did not
exceed 92°. When this is had recourse to, the patient
should remain in it only a very few minutes, and go
soon aftenvards to bed j but not with a view to force
a sweat by an increased weight of bedclothes, as is too
often injudiciously practised.
Patients of a consumptive habit, who have had an
attack of this kind at the beginning of winter, are
particularly liable to a return of the complaint during
the continuance of the cold season, on the slightest oc¬
casion and with greater violence. A relapse is there-
ore to be carefully guarded against; and nothing will
VOL. XIII. Part I.
CINE.
be found to do this more effectually than the use of
socks and a flannel under-waistcoat. The use of flan¬
nel has been condemned by several medical writers as
increasing the insensible perspiration ; but in the pre¬
sent case, to say nothing of some others in which it
may be useful, it will in general be found to have the
est effects. It will prevent a too great determina¬
tion to the lungs, and should not be left off till the
approach of summer. In some few instances in which
flannel was found to have a disagreeable effect, a piece
of dimity worn over the breast next the skin, will pre¬
vent the return of colds and coughs in persons of a de-'
licate habit, who had before been liable to them oh the
slightest occasions. Shirts made of cdtton cloth arc
much more effectual than linen in preserving an equable
temperature of the surface, and guarding against the
action of external cold; while at the same time they
are much more pleasant to most people than even the
finest flannel. In these cases, circumstances that are
seemingly of the most trifling nature become of im¬
portance.
Sometimes the cough is occasioned by an immediate
inflammation of some part of the lungs, from some
of the usual causes of inflammation j and when this
happens, no time is to be lost in removing it. To do
this will perhaps require more than one bleeding, to¬
gether with a strict attention to a cooling plan of diet,
diluting drinks, the inhalation of warm steams, and if
convenient, the use of the warm bath 5 but, above all,
the speedy application of a large blister as near as mav
be to the supposed seat of the inflammation. The
cough, in this case, will often remain after the original
complaint is abated. A prudent use of opiates at
bedtime, either by themselves or combined with gummy
and mucilaginous medicines, will then generally be use¬
ful as a sedative and antispasmodic.
In. this, as well as in the catarrhal cough just now
mentioned, many practitioners are too eager to admi¬
nister cinchona, with the view, as they term it, of bra-
etng up the patient: but this never fails to increase the
cough, and of course to do great and very irreparable
mischief.
And here it will not be foreign to our subject to
observe, that a symptomatic cough, which has its rise
not from catarrh, or from an immediate inflammation of
the lungs, but from their sympathy with the stomach,
has sometimes laid the foundation of phthisis, from its
having been mistaken, and of course improperly treat¬
ed. It seems to be owing to a redundancy or vitiated
state of the bile, or to some affection of the stomach,
which it is perhaps not easy to define. It is sometimes
a concomitant of other bilious symiptoms j and when
this happens to be the case, it cannot easily be mistaken;
but we sometimes find it occurring singly, and in gene¬
ral attacking persons of a sedentary life. Dr Stoll of
^ ienna, who has noticed this cough, has very properly
given it the name of tussis stomachica. This complaint
is so far from being relieved by bleeding, that it con¬
stantly grows worse after it, especially if the evacuation
be in any considerable quantity. The oily remedies sel¬
dom fail to exasperate this cough, which at first io dry,
frequent, and often extremely violent, but which sel¬
dom fails to give way to one or tvm gentle pukes, and
the occasional use of mild cathartics. The cough, as in
other cases, often continues from habit after the cause
t Y y that
Hivmov-
rhagia?.
M E D I
that gave rise to it has been removed, and may then be
checked by opiates.
When the disease has been neglected, or our at¬
tempts to remove it in the beginning have failed, both
of which circumstances but too frequently happen,
the patient begins to complain of a soreness, and of
slight lancinating pains shooting through the breast,
sometimes in the direction of the mediastinum, and
sometimes confined chiefly to one side. The soreness
is pretty constant, and much increased by the cough.
The pain in the side often prevents the patient from
lying on the side affected 5 and this inability of lying
except on one side, frequently occurs even when no
such pain is felt. In this stage of the disease, flush¬
ing heats are felt on the palms of the hands and soles
of the feet: the breathing is short and laborious 5 and
it is not long before the patient begins to expectorate
a thin and frothy phlegm, at first in small quantities,
coughed up with difficulty, and some pain of the breast,
and now and then streaked with blood : this may be
considered as the inflammatory period of the disease, to
which succeeds the suppurative stage. In the latter, the
expectoration becomes more copious and purulent, the
breath proportionahly offensive, and the exacerbations
of the hectic fever more considerable : an increased
quickness of the pulse comes on about the middle of
the day ; but the most considerable paroxysm of the fe¬
ver is at night, and at first continues till towards morn¬
ing, commonly till three or four o’clock, when it ter¬
minates in a sweat, which usually begins upon the
breast. As the disease advances, these sweats become
more profuse, and sometimes come on almost as soon
as the pulse begins to quicken, but without affording
any relief to the patient. During the exacerbations,
we observe a circumscribed redness of the cheeks,
while the rest of the face is pale, and appeal’s as if it
were not clean washed. The costiveness that com¬
monly accompanies the beginning of the disease is
usually succeeded by a diarrhoea} the spitting lessens,
and all the purulent matter seems to be carried down-
wards. I he wasting of the fat and the loss of nourish¬
ment occasion the nails to curve inwards, the hair to fall
off, and the eyes to sink in their sockets. In the mean
time, the legs commonly swell ; till at length death
closes a scene which is melancholy to all but the patient
himself, who in general continues sensible to the last
moment, and even then indulges a vain hope of pro¬
longing a miserable existence. In some cases, and that
not unfrequently, a delirium comes on towards the close
of the disease.
The hectic fever that attends this and some other
chronic diseases, is evidently the effect of acrimony,
and most commonly of pus absorbed and carried into
the circulation. The nature of this acrimony, and the
different irritability of different patients, are probably
the sources of the variety we observe in fevers of this
denomination j a variety which is doubtless much greater
than we are aware of. Thus we find that the matt ir
of the/smallpox excites a fever of this kind 5 but this
secondary fever, as it is called, differs from the hectic
attendant on consumptions ; nor does the latter corre¬
spond with that which sometimes accompanies the sup¬
puration of a cancerous ulcer. In the pulmonary con¬
sumption, or at least in the third stage of it, the fever
induced often appeals to be of the putrid kind, and has.
CINE. Practici
been denominated febris hectica putrida by the judicious Phthisi
Morton, who considers it as being combined with a peri-v--
pneumonic or inflammatory fever, which recurs as of¬
ten as fresh tubercles begin to inflame. For although we
have named one period of the disease the inflammatory,
and another the suppurative period, yet we are not to sup¬
pose that the latter is exempt from inflammation. While
matter is poured into the bronchige, or absorbed and
carried into the system from one part of the lungs, other
parts are in a crude state of inflammation, or advancing
towards suppuration j so that, on examining the lungs
of persons who die consumptive, we find some tubercles
that are small and just formed, some that are large and
full of matter, and others that are in a state of ulcera¬
tion. This easily accounts for the occasional combi¬
nation of inflammatory symptoms with those of the pu¬
trid hectic. When the matter absorbed is a laudable
pus, as in the case of the psoas abscess, we find the form
of the hectic fever differing from either of those we
have mentioned.
Cure. In these difi'erent periods of the disease, the
curative indications are sufficiently obvious. To pre¬
vent the formation of fresh tubercles j to obviate the
inflammation of those already formed} to promote ,
their resolution \ to allay morbid irritability, the cough,
and other troublesome symptoms; and, above all, to
check the tendency to the hectic state, are the views
that every rational physician proposes to himself in the
treatment of the genuine consumption. We know of
no medicines that can exert their specific effects upon
the lungs by dissolving tuberculous concretions 5 nor
is it probable, from what we know of the animal
economy, that any such will ever be discovered. Yet
medicines that operate in a general manner upon the
system, may, by promoting absorption, and diminish¬
ing the determination to the lungs, tend to disperse
tubercles, or to prevent their formation. There are
not wanting instances of wonderful recoveries, in cases
where the evil was supposed to be beyond the pow7er of
physic j and in some, where nature was left to her¬
self*, so that a physician who has observed the various
and powerful resources nature has within herself, will
be very cautious how he asserts that a disease is in¬
curable.
The most formidable effects of ulcerated lungs are the
absorption and consequent hectic. It seems evident,
that, in many cases, death is brought on by this, rather
than by the lungs themselves being rendered unfit for
the purposes of respiration. So that if we can obviate
the effects of the absorption, diminish the preternatu¬
ral determination to the lungs, and fulfil the other ge¬
neral indications just now mentioned, w7e may very often
enable nature to recover herself. It may be alleged, in¬
deed, that the physicians art has hitherto proved very
unsuccessful in these cases ; but may not this be owing
to the remedies that are employed being very often such
as are inimical to the cure ?
ihe cinchona is, perhaps, the most commonly em¬
ployed of any, and often confided in as an ultimate
resource in these cases. But besides this, the sulphuric
acid, the balsams, and frequent bleeding, have each had
their partizans. The use of blisters and issues, opiates,
a milk and vegetable diet, exercise, and change of air,
are pretty generally recommended by all. Concerning
cinchona, Dessault long ago observed, that it had been
productive
I1 actice. M E D I
En,0r- productive of gi’eat miscliief in consumptive cases ; and
l)r Fothergill, in a paper lately published by him on
"v ' this subject, veiy judiciously remarks, that it is so far
from curing the hectic fever arising from distempered
lungs, that according to the best of his observations,
it not only takes up that time which might pro¬
bably have been better employed in the use of other
medicines, but for the most part aggravates the dis¬
ease beyond remedy. Indeed it has been the opinion
of several attentive observers, that whenever pus or
any kind of matter excites an hectic fever, by being
absorbed and carried into the circulation, the cinchona
will never fail to exasperate the complaint, especial¬
ly if it be accompanied with any degree of inflamma¬
tory diathesis, unless the matter has a free outlet from
the system ; as in the case of abscesses, for instance,
in which we often find it productive of excellent
effects. It is likewise well known to be used as a to¬
nic, to obviate the effects of fluor albus, or any other
immoderate evacuation in delicate persons, which, by
enfeebling the system, very often lays the foundation
of phthisis : but the moment we have reason to sus¬
pect that the lungs are ulcerated, especially if this
ulceration be attended with an inflammatory dispo¬
sition ; or if the separation of vitiated pus be the con¬
sequence of a peculiar increased morbid action of the
vessels at the part, it ought to be laid aside; and in the
genuine tuberculous consumption, perhaps, it is rarely
admissible.
Dr Fothergill, howrever, observes, that there are two
causes of consumption, which often produce symptoms
so similar to those of the genuine phthisis, as some¬
times to have led him to make use of cinchona, in ap¬
parent tendencies to a genuine pulmonary consumption,
with advantage.
One of the causes is, the suckling of children
longer than is consistent with the mother’s ability.
This case frequently occurs among the middling and
lower classes of females, of constitutions naturally deli¬
cate and tender. In such a state of weakness, some
slight cold brings on a cough, which increases gradual¬
ly, till at length it produces the true pulmonary con¬
sumption. Here, cinchona given early, in moderate
doses, and merely as a tonic remedy, is often of ex¬
cellent use.
Another cause, is any weakening discharge, either
from abscesses, the greater operations of surgery, a co¬
pious and constant or similar enfeebling eva¬
cuations. That cinchona is, for the most part, of use in
these cases, when the lungs are not inflamed, is indubi¬
table ; and if they be so affected, but not beyond a cer¬
tain degree, it is also efficacious in preventing the pro¬
gress of the consumption.
In phthisical complaints succeeding such situations,
a prudent trial of cinchona seems necessary. Small
doses of the decoction, either alone, or joined with
the saline mixture or such other additions as the phy¬
sician thinks proper, may be given. But if the breath
becomes more tight and oppressed, the cough dry,
the pulse more quick and hard, and especially if slight
transitory pains or stitches about the thorax are more
frequently complained of, a perseverance in the use
of cinchona will increase the disease. If such also
should be the appearances in the progress of the dis¬
ease, or, from whatever cause, if cinchona be accom-
C I N E.
panied with such effects, the use of it ought to be
withheld.
If, on the other hand, no pain, tightness, or oppres¬
sion, is perceived, and there appear a manifest abatement
of the symptoms, it will be adviseable to proceed. The
administration of this medicine, however, requires a ju¬
dicious observer; and it ought neither to be given in
the early inflammatory stage of this disease, nor be con¬
tinued in any subsequent period, if it produce the effects
above mentioned.
By its tonic virtues it will often enable nature to
conquer many difficulties. In confirmation of this re¬
mark, Dr Fothergill farther observes, that he has seen
it of use in promoting expectoration, when this became
deficient from want of strength towards the end of peri-
pneumonic fevers; but that it stops this discharge,
changes slight wandering pains into such as are fixed,
and increases them with all their consequences, in a va¬
riety of cases.
The elixir of vitriol, or the sulphuric acid pro¬
perly diluted, though in many instances a highly use¬
ful remedy, is often exhibited in consumptive cases
with no less impropriety than cinchona. This me¬
dicine, from its astringency, is obviously improper in
the inflammatory state of the disease. But in the lat¬
ter stage, when a general tendency to putrefaction
takes place, it is serviceable in resisting the effect ; it
restrains the colliquative sweats ; and if the lungs be
not injured past reparation, it is allowed to be a very
useful auxiliary.
Various are the opinions concerning the efficacy of
Bristol water in this disease. The experienced author
last mentioned informs us, that he has seen many per¬
sons recover from pulmonary diseases after drinking
these waters, whose cure seemed to be doubtful from
any other process ; and he thinks this circumstance,
added to the general reputation of Bristol waters in
phthisical cases, affords sufficient inducement to recom¬
mend the trial of them in the early stages of such com¬
plaints. It is, however, before the approach of a con¬
firmed phthisis that patients ought to repair to Bristol ;
otherwise a journey thither will not only be without be¬
nefit, but may even prove detrimental.
Some have imagined, that the journey, a better air,
change of situation and of objects, have contributed to
the patient’s recovery ; and these may doubtless be of
advantage. It seems, however, that the water drank
fresh at the pump, actually contains principles conducive
to the recovery of patients affected with phthisical com¬
plaints. It seems to possess a slight calcareous stypticity,
and perhaps the air it contains may also have an an¬
tiseptic quality. On the whole, it appears to be an ef¬
ficacious medicine, and is often found of remarkable
benefit to consumptive patients.
Change of air, particularly from bad to good, is of
great consequence to all chronic diseases of the lungs.
In consumptive cases, the air of all large cities is found
to be particularly injurious.
A sea voyage has been much recommended in the
cure of this disease. The benefit of exercise has also
been strongly urged by many writers ; but, however
salutary when properly used, it certainly ought to be
regulated with discretion. Dr Dickson declares him¬
self of opinion, that riding on horseback in consumptive
cases is most commonly hurtful, without such regulations
Yy 2 as
Phthisis.
■ Lr\
Ui
356 M E D I C I N E. Practic
TTaemor- as in general have been little regarded. For instance,
rliague. Jie has known a person who, by a ride of an hour or tw'o
“j in the morning, was very much recruited, and who, at
another time, in the afternoon and evening, without
undergoing more bodily motion, has returned faint and
languid, and apparently worse. This observation on
the same person has been so frequently made, as to point
out clearly the times when this exercise shall not do
hurt in consumptive cases. In this disease, the pulse,
however calm in the morning, becomes more frequent
in the afternoon and night, attended with heat and
other feverish symptoms. Exercise therefore, at this
time, can only add to the mischief of the fever. For
this reason he prudently recommends to all hectic per¬
sons, especially those who shall travel to distant places
on account of a better air, or the benefit expected
from any particular water, that their travelling should
be slow, confined to a very few hours, and only in the
morning.
Exercise on horseback seems to be chiefly benefi-.
cial in those cases Avhere consumption is a secondary
disease. For example, in the nervous atrophy $ in
the hypochondriacal consumption j or when it is the ef¬
fect of long continued intermittents, or of congestions
in any of the abdominal viscera; or, in a word, when¬
ever the consumption is not attended with an inflamed
or ulcerated state of the lungs, long journeys on horse¬
back will be beneficial. Such a practice may likewise
be highly useful in obviating an attack of phthisis, or
in carrying off a dry husky cough in a person of a con¬
sumptive habit, when there is reason to suppose that
no tubercles are as yet formed. On the other hand,
in the confirmed phthisis, when the lungs are inflamed
or ulcerated, much or violent exercise will be impro¬
per j and there have been instances where the death of
the patient was evidently accelerated by it. The exer¬
cise therefore should be gentle, proportioned to the
strength of the patient, and employed only in the
morning. In fine vteather, an easy open carriage is
perhaps the most eligible, not only on account of its
being open to the air, but because it affords that kind
of agitation which is most wanted in these cases. For
if we consider the different modes of exercise, we shall
find that walking, though the best exercise in health,
as it employs the most muscles, is the worst for the
sickly, who should have the benefit of exercise without
fatigue.. Riding on horseback agitates the viscera more
than walking, and is therefore preferable to it in many
chronic diseases j but when a preternatural determina¬
tion to the lungs has taken place, it will be liable to
increase the evil, and may likewise be hurtful by the
fatigue that attends it. For these reasons it will be
prudent to begin with a carriage ; and if the patient
gain strength, and the disease abates, recourse may af¬
terwards be had to horse-exercise.
The gentle motion of a coach has been often found
of great utility in pulmonary complaints. Its efficacy
seems to depend chiefly on its increasing the determina¬
tion to the surface of the body. The nausea which
this motion excites in some persons is an effect of this
increased determination. It has therefore been found
beneficial in haemoptysis ; and Dr Simmons mentions
the case of a lady, who, after trying various remedies
to no purpose, was cured of this complaint by travel¬
ling several hundred miles through different parts of
England in her own coach. At first, whenever she re- pj^-
mained three or four days in any place, the disorder be--v-
gan to return again j but at length by persevering in
her journeys, it gradually went off. Dessault, who
practised at Boux-deaux about 40 years ago, tells us, he
sent several consumptive patients to Bareges, and with
good success j hut that in these cases his reliance was
not so much upon the Bareges wraters, as upon the
motion of the carriage and the change of air in a jour¬
ney of more than 100 leagues.
It is now pretty generally acknowledged, that the
good effects of sea voyages in consumptive cases de¬
pend more upon the constant and uniform motion of
the ship, than upon any particular impregnation of the
sea air; although this from its coolness and purity may
likewise be of great use, especially in the hot months,
when sea voyages are generally undertaken by con¬
sumptive patients. The ancients were no strangers to
this remedy j and amongst the Romans it was no unu¬
sual thing for consumptive persons to sail to Egypt.
Pliny observes, that this wras not done for the sake of
the climate, but merely on account of the length of the
voyage.
Many of our English physicians have recommended
a voyage to Lisbon in these cases. When this is done,
the proper season of the year should be carefully at¬
tended to. Dr Simmons knewr a gentleman who went
thither with symptoms of incipient phthisis, and who
experienced some relief during the course of the voyage}
but happening to arrive at Lisbon at the beginning of
the rainy season, the disease was soon greatly increased,
and terminated fatally.
Another species of motion has of late been extolled
as highly useful in consumptive cases. Dr James Car¬
michael Smyth of London, has lately published aa
account of the effects of swinging, employed as a re¬
medy in the pulmonary consumption and hectic fever.
In this treatise Dr Smyth contends, that sea aiir, in
place of being of advantage, is constantly prejudicial
to hectic and consumptive patients, and even to those
who have a tendency to such complaints. He thinks,
therefore, that the benefit derived from sea voyages
must certainly be referred to some other cause. In
stating his sentiments on this subject, he attempts to
establish a distinction between exercise and motion.
By exercise, he understands muscular action, or the
exertion of the locomotive powers of the body ei¬
ther alone or combined. This he represents as in¬
creasing the force and frequency of the heart’s con¬
traction, the velocity and momentum of the blood,
the quickness of breathing, the heat, the irritability,
and the transpiration of the whole body. By motion,
in contradistinction to exercise, he means such motion
as is not necessarily accompanied with any agitation
or succussion of the body, and which is totally inde¬
pendent of any muscular exertion. The effects of
this, both on the heart, the lungs, and indeed on the
system in general, he considei’s as of the sedative kind}
thus it suspends the action of coughing, and lessens
the frequency of the pulse. He is, therefore, led to
refer the good eftects of sea voyages entirely to this
cause. And on these grounds he Avas led to conclude,
that the motion given by swinging might he of equal
it not greater service. This conclusion, Ave are told,
in the treatise above alluded to, experience in. many
cases
pr tice.
10l. cases has fully confirmed j and he recommends it as
»jI^ a mode of cure which may be employed with advan-
w- tage in every stage of phthisis. While, however, the
reasoning of Dr Smyth on this subject seems to be
liable to many objections, we are sorry to add, that
his observations in practice have by no means been
confirmed by those of others, who have had recourse
to this mode of cure.
The best adapted diet in consumptive cases is milk j
the milk of asses, both as an article of diet and as a
medicine, has in particular been highly extolled. It
may however be remarked, that there are constitutions
in which this salutary nutriment seems to disagree. A
propensity to generate bile, or too strong a disposition
to acescency from a weakness of the digestive organs,
both merit attention. Whey, either from cows or
goats milk, appears to he more suitable in the former
case ; and for correcting acidity, lime water may be
added to the milk. The method of adding rum or
brandy to asses or cows milk, should be used with great
caution : for when added beyond a certain quantity,
as is often the case, they not only coagulate the milk,
but heat the body ; by which means the milk dis¬
agrees with the patient, and the spirit augments the
disease.
In consumptive cases, Dr Simmons observes, that
the patient’s taste should be consulted j and says that a
moderate use of animal food, where the salted and high-
seasoned kinds are avoided, is not to be denied. Shell¬
fish, particularly oysters, are useful, as well as snails
swallowed whole, or boiled in milk.
Repeated bleedings, in small quantities, are by some
considered in consumptive cases as highly advantageous:
and in particular circumstances they undoubtedly are
so; for instance, when the constitution apparently a-
bounds with blood j when the fluid drawn oft is ex¬
tremely sizy ; when there is much pain in the breast j
and when venesection is followed by an abatement of
every symptom. In these cases, bleeding is certainly
proper, and ought to be repeated so long as it seems
to be attended with advantage. In very delicate con¬
stitutions, however, even where the pulse is quick, with
some degree of fulness, and the blood last drawn con¬
siderably sizy, it may not prove serviceable.
It deserves to be remarked, that the inflammatory
appearance of the blood is not alone a sufficient reason
for bleeding j but, in determining the propriety of this
evacuation, all other circumstances should be consider¬
ed ; such as the patient’s age, strength, habit, and the
state of the disease.
A remark which has been judiciously made by Dr
Fothergill, ought not to be omitted in the account of
this disease. It is, that young delicate females, about
the age of 15 or 16, and upwards, are often subject
to consumptions. When the disease has advanced con¬
siderably, the menses, if they have made their appear¬
ance, most generally cease. This alarms their female
friends, and they call upon the physician to use his
utmost endeavours for restoring the discharge } believ¬
ing the cessation of it to be the immediate cause of
the phthisical complaint. Induced by their solicita¬
tions, medicines have sometimes been administered,
which, without obtaining this end, have tended to ag¬
gravate the distemper. This deficiency is often of no
*eal, disadvantage in those cases 3 and in many the eva-
357
cuation would prove injurious, by diminishing the Phthisis,
strength, which is already too much impaired. Dven 1 ■ ■■■■ y— *
small bleedings at the regular periods have often done
more harm than good. A sudden suppression may re¬
quire bleeding 3 hut when the evacuation fails through
want of strength, and from poverty of blood, the re¬
newal of it increases the disease.
Resides these remedies, Dr Simmons strongly recom-*
mends a frequent repetition of vomits. Many physi¬
cians have supposed, that where there is any increased
determination to the lungs, vomits do mischief: but
Dr Simmons is persuaded, that instead of augmenting,
they diminish this determination 3 and that much good
may be expected from a prudent use of this remedy,
than which none has a more general or powerful effect
on the system. If any remedy be capable of dispersing
a tubercle, he believes it to be emetics. The affections
of the liver, that sometimes accompany pulmonary
complaints, give way to repeated emetics sooner than
to any other remedy. In several cases where the cough
and the matter expectorated, the flushing heats, loss
of appetite, and other symptoms, threatened the most
fatal event 3 the complaints were greatly relieved, and
in others wholly removed, by the frequent use of eme¬
tics. Other suitable remedies were indeed employed
at the same time 3 hut the relief the patients generally
experienced after the emetic, was a sufficient proof
of its salutary operation. By this, however, he does
not mean that vomits will be useful in every period of
the disease, or in every patient. In general, it will be
found that the earlier in the disease emetics are had re¬
course to, the more likely they will be to do good, and.
the less likely to do harm. The cases in which eme¬
tics may be reckoned improper, are commonly those in
which the disease is rapid in its progress 3 or in that,
stage of it when there is great debility, with profuse
colliquative sweats.
In these cases, when an emetic has been administer¬
ed twice a-wcek, and the cough is mitigated, the ex¬
pectoration facilitated, and the other symptoms reliev--
ed, both the patient and the physician will be encou¬
raged to proceed, and to repeat the vomit every second
day, or even every day, for several days together, as
Dr Simmons has sometimes done when the good effects
of it were obvious.
The choice of emetics to be employed in these cases,
is by no means a matter of indifference. Carduus tea,
chamomile tea, warm water, and others that act by.
their bulk, and by exciting nausea, relax the tone of
the stomach when they are frequently repeated, and of
course will be improper. More active emetics are
therefore to be preferred 3 and here some of the prepa¬
rations of antimony might naturally be thought of.
Rut the operation of these is not confined to the sto¬
mach. They, produce evacuations by stool, and a dis¬
position to sw'eat 5 and are therefore improper iu the
pulmonary hectic. The mildness and excellence of
ipecacuanha as an emetic, are well known 5 but in.
these cases, Dr Simmons has often employed the sul¬
phate of copper, concerning the effects of which we
meet with some groundless assertions in several medical
books. Its operation is confined to the stomach 3 it
acts almost instantaneously 3 and its astringency seems
to obviate the relaxation that is commonly supposed
to attend the frequent use of emetics. In two cases
MEDICINE.
35s
Hsemor- lie experienced its good eiTects, after vomits of ipcca-
rhagite. cuanha had been given ineffectually. It should he
 v ' administered in the morning, and in the following man¬
ner :
Let the patient first swallow about half a pint of wa¬
ter, and immediately afterwards sulphate of copper dis¬
solved in a cupful of water. The dose ot it must he
adapted to the age and other circumstances of the pa¬
tient, and may he varied from two grains to ten, fifteen,
or twenty. As some persons are much more easily puk¬
ed than others, it wrill he prudent to begin with a small
dose : not that any dangerous effects will be produced
by a large one, for the whole of the medicine is instant¬
ly rejected ; but if the nausea he violent, and of long
continuance, the patient may perhaps be discouraged
from repeating it. In general, the moment the emetic
has reached the stomach it is thrown up again. The
patient must then swallow another half pint of water,
which is likewise speedily rejected j and this is com¬
monly sufficient to remove the nausea*
Dr Marryat, in his Ne w Practice of Physic, pre¬
scribes with great freedom what he calls the dry vomit,
from its being directed to be taken without drinking.
•This medicine consists of sulphate of copper and tartrite
of antimony. It has the benefit also of producing in¬
stantaneous operation ; but it is more apt to excite nau¬
sea than the sulphate of copper alone, and is liable to
some of the objections stated to antimonial emetics.
Another remedy which Dr Simmons strongly re¬
commends in consumptive cases, both from his own
observation, and on the authority also of many other
eminent practitioners, is gum-myrrh. This given by
itself to the extent of a scruple or half a drachm for a
dose, two or three times a-day, or, if there be much in¬
flammatory tendency, combined with a proportion of
nitre or of cream of tartar, has often been serviceable
in cases which were apparently instances of incipient
phthisis even of the tuberculous kind. But when the
disease is far advanced, or even decidedly marked, as
far as our experience goes it has rarely been productive
of any benefit.
Besides the use of internal remedies in pulmonary
affections, physicians have often prescribed the smoke
of resinous and balsamic substances to be conveyed in¬
to the lungs. The vapour of sulphuric ether, dropt in¬
to warm water, has likewise been used in these cases.
The inhaling of fixed air has also been spoken of as an
useful practice. Dr Simmons has seen all these me¬
thods tried at different times; but without being able
to perceive any real advantages from them in the sup¬
purative stage of the disease, where they might be ex¬
pected to be of the greatest use j and in the beginning
he has often found the twro first to be too stimulating.
He therefore preferred the simple vapour of warm wa¬
ter, and has experienced its excellent effects in several
instances j but when the complaint has made any con¬
siderable progress, its utility is less obvious ; and wrhen
the patients have been much weakened, he has seen it
bring on profuse sweats, especially when used in bed,
and therefore he generally recommended it to be used
in the dayr time. Formerly he made use of a fumigating
machine, described in the Gentleman’s Magazine for
174^9 which the air, inspired by the patient, is
made to pass through hot water by means of a tube
that communicates with the external air, and with the
Practi
bottom of the vessel: but we have now a more elegant, pjltlliv
and, on account of the valve and mouth-piece, a more L--r
useful instrument of this kind, the inhaler, invented by
the ingenious Dr Mudge.
Atiother remedy recommended by some as a specific
in consumptions is the earth bath. Van Swieten, in
his Commentaries on Boerhaave, tells us, from the in¬
formation of a person of credit, that in some parts of
Spain they have a method of curing the phthisis pul-
monalis by the use of this remedy j and he quotes the
celebrated Solano de Luque in confirmation of this
practice. Solano speaks of the banos de tierra, or
earth-baths, as a very old and common remedy in
Granada and some parts of Andalusia, in cases of hec¬
tic fever and consumptions; and relates several in¬
stances of their good effects in his own practice. The
method he adopted on these occasions wras as follow's:
He chose a spot of ground on which no plants had
been sown, and there he made a hole large and deep
enough to admit the patient up to the chin. The in-
tei’stices of the pit were then carefully filled up with
the fresh mould, so that the earth might everywhere
come in contact with the patient’s body. In this situ¬
ation the patient was suffered to remain till he began
to shiver or felt himself uneasy j and during the whole
process, Solano occasionally administered food or some
cordial medicine. The patient was then taken out,
and, after being wrapped in a linen cloth, was placed
upon a mattress, and two hours afterwards his whole
body was rubbed with an ointment, composed of the
leaves of the solatium nigrum and hog’s lard. He ob¬
serves, that a new pit must be made every time the
operation is repeated ; and advises the use of these baths
only from the end of May to the end of October. Dr
Fouquet, an ingenious French physician, has tried
this remedy in two cases. In one, a confirmed phthi¬
sis, he was unsuccessful} but the remedy had not a fair
trial. The patient, a man 30 years of age, had been
for several months afflicted with cough, hectic fever,
and profuse colliquative sweats. He was first put into
the earth in the month of June but soon complained
of an uneasy oppression at his stomach, and was remov¬
ed at the end of seven minutes. The second time he
-was able to remain in it half an hour, and when taken
out was treated in the way prescribed by Solano. In
this manner the baths were repeated five times, and
the patient was evidently relieved j but having conceiv¬
ed a dislike to the process, he refused to submit to any
further trials, and died some months afterwards. In
the second case he was more fortunate : the patient, a
girl 11 years of age, had been for three months trou¬
bled with a cough brought on by the measles, which
was at length attended with a purulent expectoration,
hectic fever, and night sweats. She began the use ot
the earth-bath in August, and repeated it eight times
in the space of 20 days. At the end of that time the
fever and disposition to sweat had entirely ceased, and
by the use of the common remedies, the patient was
perfectly restored. A physician at Warsaw has like¬
wise prescribed the earth-bath with good success in
cases of hectic fever. The Spaniards confine it entirely
to such cases *, but in some other parts of the world we
find a similar method employed as a remedy for other
diseases, and particularly for the sea-scurvy. Dr Priest¬
ley observes, that the Indians, be has been told, have
MEDICINE.
MEDICINE.
Haemorrhoidalis fluxus, Hojfm. 219.
Haemorrhoides, Junck. 11. et 12.
Leucorrhois, Vog. 112.
Pr tice.
H.Lr- a cas^om burying their patients labouring under pu-
rh|*. trid diseases up to the chin in fresh mould, which is
u- —“'also known to take off the foetor from flesh meat begin¬
ning to putrefy. The rancidity of a ham, for example,
may be corrected by burying it for a few hours in the
earth. The efficacy of this remedy in the sea scurvy
has, it is said, frequently been experienced by the crews
of our East India ships.
Solano, who is fond of philosophizing in his writings,
is of opinion, that the earth applied in this way ab¬
sorbs the morbid taint from the system ; but does it
not seem more probable, that the effluvia of the earth,
by being absorbed and carried into the circulation, cor¬
rect the morbid state of the fluids, and thus are equal¬
ly useful in the sea scurvy and in the pulmonary hectic?
That the earth when moistened does emit a grateful
odour is a fact generally known j and Baglivi long ago
gave his testimony in favour of the grateful effects of the
effluvia of fresh earth. He ascribes these good effects
to the nitre it contains.
The earth-bath, both in consumptive cases and like¬
wise in a variety of other affections, has of late been
extensively employed in Britain by a celebrated empi¬
ric. But, as far as we can learn, in most cases it pro¬
duced to the patient a very distressing sensation of cold j
in some, it seemed to be productive of bad effects, jiro-
bably in consequence of this cold 3 and we have not
heard of any consumptive cases in which good effects
were decidedly obtained from it.
With regard to the drains, such as blisters, issues,
and setons, which are so frequently recommended in
pulmonary complaints, there is less danger of abuse
from them than from the practice of venesection. The
discharge they excite is not calculated to weaken the
patient much 3 and the relief they have so often been
found to aflord, is a sufficient reason for giving them
a trial. Blisters, as is well known, act in a twofold
manner 3 by obviating spasm, and producing revulsion:
Issues and setons act chiefly in the latter of these two
ways j and in this respect their effects, though less sud¬
den and less powerful at first, are more durable from the
continuance of the discharge they occasion. It is per¬
haps hardly necessary to remark, that, if much service
is to be expected from either of these remedies, they
should be applied early in the disease. The ingenious
DrMudge, who experienced the good effects of a large
scapulary issue on his own person, very properly ob¬
serves, that the discharge in these cases ought to be
considerable enough to be felt. But it is seldom possi¬
ble for us to prevail on the delicate persons, who are
most frequently the victims of this disease, to submit to
the application of a caustic between the shoulders. The
discharge produced by a seton is by no means incon¬
siderable 3 and as in these cases there is generally some
part of the breast that is more painful or more affected
by a deep inspiration than the rest, a seton in the side,
as near as can be to the seat of the pain, will be an use¬
ful auxi'iary. Dr Simmons has seen it evidently of
great use in several cases.
Genus XXXYIII. H^EMORRHOIS.
Haemorrhoids, or Piles.
Hiemorrhois, gen. 217. Lin. 192. Sag. gen.
J82.
Sp. I. External Piles.
War. A. Bloody Piles.
Haemorrhois moderata, Sauv. sp. 1.
Hasmorrhoides ordinatae, Junck. 11.
Haemorrhoides nimiae, Junck. 11.
Haemorrhois immodica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Haemorrhoides excedentes, Alberti de haemorrhoid.
p. 179.
Juemorrhois polyposa, Sauv. sp. 3.
Var. B. Mucous Piles.
Haemorrhoides decoloratae, alba1, et mucidae, Junck.
13. Alberti, p. 248.
Sp. II. The Piles from a Procidentia Ani. 24;
Haemorrhois ab exania, Sauv. sp. 4.
Sp. III. The Punning Piles. 243
Sp. IV. The Blind Piles. 244
Haemorrhoides coecae, Junck. 12. Alberti, p. 274.
Description. The discharge of blood from small tu¬
mors on the verge of the anus constitutes what is called
the hamot'rhoids or piles. They are distinguished into
fhe external and internal, according to the situation of
the tumors, either without or within the anus. Some¬
times, however, these tumors appear without dischar¬
ging any blood 3 and in this case they are called the
hcemorrhoides coccce, or blind piles. Sometimes the dis¬
ease appears without the verge of the anus in distinct se¬
parate tumors 3 but frequently only one tumid ring ap¬
pears, seeming as it were the anus pushed without the
body. Sometimes these tumors appear without any
previous disorder of the body : but more frequently, be¬
fore the blood begins to flow, and sometimes even before
the tumors are formed, various affections are perceived
in diflerent parts of the body 3 as headach, vertigo, stu¬
por, difficulty of breathing, sickness, colic pains, pain of
the back and loins, and frequently a considerable degree
of pyrexia; while along with these symptoms there is a
sense of fulness, heat, itching, and pain, in and about
the anus. Sometimes the disease is preceded by a se¬
rous discharge from the anus 3 and sometimes this se¬
rous discharge, accompanied with swelling, seems to
come in place of the discharge of blood, and to relieve
the above-mentioned disorders of the system. This se¬
rous discharge hath therefore been named the hcemor-
rhois alba.
In this disease the quantity of blood discharged is dif¬
ferent upon different occasions. Sometimes it flows on¬
ly when the person goes to stool, and commonly fol¬
lows the discharge of faeces. . In other cases it flows
without any discharge of fteces 3 and then generally in
consequence of the disorders above mentioned, when it
is also commonly in larger quantity. This is often ve¬
ry considerable 3 and, by the repetition, so great, that
we could hardly suppose the body to bear it but with
Haemor-
rhois.
56o M E D I
Haemor- the liaiard of life. Indeed, though rarely, it has been
riiagiae. h0 great as to prove suddenly fatal. These considerable
discharges occur especially to persons who have been
frequently liable to the disease. They often induce
great debility, and frequently a leucophlegmatia or
dropsy which proves fatal. Sometimes the tumors and
discharges of blood in this disease recur exactly at sta¬
ted periods. In the decline of life it frequently hap¬
pens that the haemorrhoidal flux, formerly frequent,
• ceases to flow, and in that case it generally happens
that the persons are affected with apoplexy or palsy.
Sometimes haemorrhoidal tumors are affected with in¬
flammation, which ends in suppuration, and gives
occasion to the formation of fistulous ulcers in those
parts.
The haemorrhoidal tumors have often been consi¬
dered as varices or dilatations of the veins ; and in some
cases varicous dilatations have appeared on dissec¬
tion. These, however, do not appear in the greater
part of cases j and Dr Cullen is of opinion that they
are usually formed by an effusion of blood into the
cellular texture of the intestine near to its extremity.
When recently formed, they contain fluid blood j but
after they remain for some time they are usually of
a firmer consistence, in consequence of the blood being
coagulated.
Causes, &c. It would seem probable, that the he¬
morrhoidal tumors are produced by some interruption
of the free return of the blood from the rectum, by
which a rupture of the extremities of the veins is occa¬
sioned. But considering that the haemorrhage occur¬
ring here is often preceded by pain, inflammation, and
a febrile state, and with many other symptoms which
show a connection of the topical affection with the state
of the whole system, it is probable that the interruption
of the blood in the veins produces a considerable resist¬
ance to the motion of the blood through the arteries,
and consequently that the discharge of blood is com¬
monly from the latter. Some have thought, that a
difference of the haemorrhois, and of its effects upon the
system, might arise from the difference of the haemor¬
rhoidal vessels from whence the blood issued. But Dr
Cullen is of opinion, that we can scarce ever distinguish
the vessels from which the blood flows, and that the
frequent inosculations of both arteries and veins belong¬
ing to the lower extremity of the rectum, will render
the effects of the haemorrhage much the same, from
whatever source it proceeds.
With regard to the haemorrhoids, however, he is
of opinion, that they are for the most part, merely
a topical affection. They take place before the pe¬
riod of life at which a venous plethora happens. They
happen to females, in whom a venous plethora deter¬
mined to the haemorrhoidal vessels cannot be supposed
to occur 5 and they happen to both sexes, and to per¬
sons of all ages, from causes which do not affect the
system, and are manifestly suited to produce a topical
affection only.
These causes are, in the first place, the frequent
voiding of hard and bulky faeces, which, by their long
stagnation in the rectum, and especially when voided,
must necessarily press upon the veins of that part, and
interrupt the course of the blood in them. For this
reason the disease so frequently happens to those who
are habitually costive. From the same causes, the dis-
4
CINE. ^ Practi
ease happens frequently to those who are subject to a Ifon
prolapsus ani. In voiding the faeces, it almost always rhoi
happens that the internal coat of the rectum is more or
less protruded ; and, during this protrusion, it some¬
times happens that the sphincter ani is contracted : in
consequence of this, a strong constriction is made, which
preventing the protruded gut from being replaced, and
at the same time preventing the return of the blood from
it, occasions a considerable swelling, and the formation
of a‘tumid ring round the anus.^
Upon the sphincter’s being a little relaxed, as it is
immediately after its strong contraction, the portion
of the gut which had fallen out is commonly taken
into the body again j but by the frequent repetition
of the accident, the size and fulness of the ring formed
by the prolapsed intestine is much increased. It is
therefore more slowly and difficultly replaced ; and in
this consists the chief uneasiness of hoemorrhoidal per¬
sons. As the internal edge of this ring is necessarily
divided by clefts, the whole often puts on the appear¬
ance of a number of distinct swellings ; and it also fre¬
quently happens, that some portions of it are more
considerably swelled, become more protuberant, and
form those small tumors more strictly called hcemor-
rhoids ot piles.
From considering that the pressure of the faeces, and
other causes interrupting the return of venous blood
from the lower extremity of the rectum, may operate a
good deal higher up than that extremity, we may un¬
derstand how tumors may be formed within the anus;
and probably it also happens, that some of the tumors
formed without the anus may continue when taken
within the body, and even be increased by the causes
just mentioned. Thus may the production of internal
piles be explained, which, on account of their situation
and bulk, are not protruded on the person’s going to
stool, and are therefore more painful.
The production of piles is particularly illustrated
by this, that pregnant women are frequently affected
with the disease. This is to be accounted for, partly
from the pressure of the uterus upon the rectum, and
partly from the costive habit to which pregnant wo¬
men are liable. Dr Cullen has known many instances
of piles happening for the first time during the state of
pregnancy ; and there are few women who have horu
children, that are afterwards entirely free from piles.
—Purgatives also, especially those of the more acrid
kind, and particularly aloetics, are apt to produce
the piles when frequently used ; and as they stimu¬
late particularly the larger intestines, they may be
justly reckoned among the exciting causes of this dis¬
ease.
Prognosis. Though the haemorrhoids are commonly,
as we have said, to be esteemed a topical disease, they
may, by frequent repetition, become habitual and con¬
nected with the state of the whole system; and tins
will more readily happen in persons who have been
once affected with the disease, if they be frequently
exposed to the renewal of the causes which occasioned it.
It happens also to persons much exposed to a con¬
gestion in the haemorrhoidal vessels, in consequence of
their being often in an erect position of the body, and
in an exercise which pushes the blood into the depend¬
ing vessels, while at the same time the effects of these
circumstances are much favoured by the abundance
Pr >tice. MEDICINE.
Htlor. ami laxity of the cellular texture about the anus. It
jlli®. is to be particularly observed, that when an htemor-
— ,—J rlxoidal affection has either been originally or has be¬
come a disease of the system, it then acquires a parti¬
cular connection with the stomach ; so that certain af¬
fections of the stomach excite the htemorrhoidal disease,
and certain states of this disease excite the disorders of
the stomach.
It has been an almost universally received opinion,
that the hsemorrhoidal flux is a salutary evacuation,
which prevents many diseases which would otherwise
have happened; and that it even contributes to give
long life : and as this opinion has been strenuously
adopted by Dr Stahl, it has had a veiy considerable in¬
fluence on the practice of physic in Germany. But Dr
Cullen maintains that we can never expect to reap
much benefit from this flux, which at first is purely
topical j and, granting that it should become habitual,
it is never, he thinks, proper to he encouraged. It is
a disagreeable disease ; ready to goto excess, and there¬
by to prove hurtful, and sometimes even fatal: at best
it is liable to accidents, and thus to unhappy conse¬
quences. He is therefore of opinion, that even the first
approaches of the disease are to be guarded against; and
that, though it should have proceeded for some time, it
ought always to be moderated, and the necessity of it
superseded.
Cure. The general intention of cure in cases of
hsemorrhois are much varied, according to the circum¬
stances of the affection at the time. When hoemor-
rhois exists in the state of tumor, the principal ob¬
jects are to counteract inflammation, and to promote
a discharge of blood from the part. When it is in the
state of evacuation, the chief intentions of cure are, to
diminish the impetus of blood at the part affected, and
to increase the resistance to the passage of blood
through the ruptured vessels. And finally, when the
disease exists in the state of suppression, the aims of
the practitioner must chiefly be, to obviate the parti¬
cular affections which are induced in consequence of
the suppression ; to restore the discharge, as a means
of mitigating these and preventing others ; or, when
the discharge cannot with propriety or advantage be
restored, to compensate the want of it by vicarious
evacuations.
With these various intentions in different cases, a
variety of different remedies may be employed with
advantage.
When any evident cause for this disease is perceived,
we ought immediately to attempt a removal of that
cause. One of the most frequent remote causes is an
habitual costiveness} which must be obviated by a pro¬
per diet, such as the person’s own experience will best
direct ; or if the management of diet he not effectual,
the belly must be kept open by medicines, which may
prove gently laxative, without irritating the rectum.
In most cases it will be of advantage to acquire a ha¬
bit with regard to the time of discharge, and to ob¬
serve it exactly. Another cause of the haemorrhois to
be especially attended to is the prolapsus ani, which
is apt to happen on a person’s having a stool. If this
shall occur to any considerable degree, and he not at
the same time easily and immediately replaced, it most
certainly produces piles, or increases them when other-
1 , wise produced. Persons therefore who are liable to
VOL. XIII. Part I. t
this prolapsus, should, after having been at stool, take
great pains to have the intestine immediately replaced,
by lying down in a horizontal posture, and pressing
gently upon the anus, till the reduction shall he com¬
pletely obtained. W hen this prolapsus is occasioned
only by the voiding of hard and bulky faeces, it is to
be removed by obviating the costiveness which occa¬
sions it. But in some persons it is owing to a laxity of
the rectum j and in those it is often most considerable
on occasion of a loose stool. In these cases, it is to
treated by astringents, and proper artifices are to be
employed to keep the gut in its place.
When the disease has frequently recurred from ne¬
glect, and is thus in some measure established, the me¬
thods above mentioned are no less proper •, but in this
case some other measures must also be used. It is espe¬
cially proper to guard against a plethoric state of the
body 5 and therefore to avoid a sedentary life, full diet,
and intemperance in the use of strong liquor, which in
all cases of haemorrhage is of the most pernicious con¬
sequence.
Exercise of all kinds is of great service in obviating
and removing a plethoric state of the body ; but upon
occasion of the haemorrhoidal flux, when this is inmnv
diately to come on, both walking and riding, as in¬
creasing the determination of the blood into the
luemorrhoidal vessels, are to he avoided. At other
times, when no such determination is already formed,
these modes of exercise may be very properly em¬
ployed.
Another method of removing plethora is by cold
bathing; but this must he employed with caution.
When the hsemorrhoklal flux is approaching, it may he
dangerous to divert it; but during the intervals of the
disease,-cold bathing may he employed with safety and
advantage; and in those who are liable to a prolapsus
ani, the frequent washing of the anus with cold water
may he useful.
Besides general antiphlogistic regimen, in some cases
where the inflammation runs high, recourse may he
had with great advantage both to general blood-letting
and to leeches applied at the anus. Belief is also often
obtained from the external application of emollients,
either alone or combined with different articles of the
sedative kind, &s acetite of lead or opium, by which it
is well known that pain in general, particularly when
depending on increased sensibility, or augmented action
of the vessels, is powerfully allayed.
When the flux has actually come on, we are to mo¬
derate it as much as possible, by causing the patient
lie in a horizontal posture on a hard bed ; by avoiding
exercise in an erect posture, using a cool diet, and
avoiding external heat. But with respect to the fur¬
ther cure of this disease, we must observe, that there
are only two cases in which it is common for haemor-
rhoidal persons to call for medical assistance. The one
is, when the affection is accompanied with much pain ;
and the other, when the piles are accompanied with
excessive bleeding. In the first case, we must consi¬
der whether the pdes he external or internal. J he pain
of the external piles happens especially when a consi¬
derable protrusion of the rectum has taken place; and
while it remains unreduced, it is strangled by the con¬
striction of the sphincter; and at the same time no
bleeding happens to take oft' the swelling of the pro-
Z z truded
361
Itivnior-
iliois.
3^2
Jsa-mor- traded portion of the intestine ; and sometimes an in-
rKagioe. flammation supervenes, which greatly aggravates the
—~v ' pain. In this case, emollient fomentations and poul¬
tices are sometimes of service, but the application of
leeches is generally to be preferred.
In case of excessive bleeding, we are on all occasions
to endeavour to moderate the flux, even where the dis¬
ease has occurred as a critical discharge ; for if the pri¬
mary disease shall be entirely and radically cured, the
preventing any return of the haemorrhois seems perfect¬
ly safe and proper. It is only when the disease arises
from a plethoric habit, and from a stagnation of blood
in the hypochondriac region, or when, though origi¬
nally topical, it has by frequent repetition become ha¬
bitual, and has thereby acquired a connection with the
system, that any doubt can arise about curing it entire¬
ly. In any of these cases, however, Dr Cullen is of
opinion, that it will be proper to moderate the bleed¬
ing, lest, by its continuance or repetition, the pletho¬
ric state of the body, and the particular determination
of the blood into the haemorrhoidal vessels, be increased,
and the return of the disease be too much favoured.
Dr Stahl is of opinion, that the haemorrhoidal flux is
never to be accounted excessive, excepting when it oc¬
casions great debility or leucophlegmatia : but Dr Cul¬
len thinks, that the smallest approach towards produ¬
cing either of these eftects should be considered as an
excess which ought to be prevented from going far¬
ther j and even in the cases of congestion and plethora,
if the plethoric habit and tendency can be obviated and
removed, the haemorrhoidal flux may then with safety
be entirely suppressed. In all cases therefore of exces¬
sive bleeding, or any approach to it, astringents both
internal and external may be safely and properly ap¬
plied ; not indeed to induce an immediate and total
suppression ; but to moderate the haemorrhage, and by
degrees to suppress it altogether j while at the same
time measures are to be taken for the removing the ne¬
cessity of its recurrence.
Genus XXXIX. MENORRHAGIA.
■zq 5 Immoderate Flow of the Menses.
Menorrhagia, Sauv. 244. Lin. 202. Vog. 96.
Menorrhagia, Sag. gen. 179.
Uteri haemorrhagia, Hojfm. II. 224.
Hsemorrhagia uterina, Junck. 14.
Leucorrhcea, Sauv. gen. 267. Lin. 201. Fog. 119.
Sag. gen. 202.
Cachexia uterina, sive fluor albus, Hoffm. III. 348.
Fluor albus, Junck. 133.
Abortus, Sauv. gen. 245. Lin. 204. Sag. gen. 180.
Junck. 92. v
Abortio, Fog. 97.
Fluor uterini sanguinis, Foerh. 1303.
Convulsio uteri, sive abortus, Hoffm. III. 176.
Sp. I. The Immoderate Flow of the Menses, properly
so called.
Menorrhagia rubra, Qiil.
Menorrhagia immodica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Menorrhagia stillatitia, Sauv. sp. 2.
Description. The quantity of the menstrual flux is
Tractic
different in different women, and likewise in the same jqeno]
woman at different times. An unusual quantity there- rhagia
fore is not always to be considered as morbid : but u~v-
when a large flow of the menses has been preceded
by headach, giddiness, or dyspnoea j has been ushered
in by a cold stage ; and is attended with much pain of
the back and loins, with a frequent pulse, heat, and
thirst, it may then be considered as preternaturally
morbid. On the other hand, when the face becomes
pale, the pulse weak, an unusual debility is felt in exer¬
cise, and the breathing is hurried by little labour j
when the back becomes pained from any continuance
in an erect posture, when the extremities become fre¬
quently cold, and when at night the feet appear affect¬
ed with oedematous swelling) from all these symptoms
we may conclude, that the flow of the menses has been
immoderate, and has already induced a dangerous state
of debility. The debility, induced in this case, often
appears also by affections of the stomach, an anorexia,
and other symptoms of dyspepsia 5 by a palpitation of
the heart, and frequent faintings j by a weakness of
mind, liable to strong emotions from slight causes, espe¬
cially those presented by surprise. A large flow of the
menses attended with barrenness in married Avomen, may
generally be considered as preternatural and morbid.
Generally, also, that flow of the menses may be consi¬
dered as immoderate, Avhich is preceded and follotved
by a leucorrhoea.
Causes, &c. The proximate cause of the menor¬
rhagia is either the effort of the uterine vessels preter¬
naturally increased, or a preternatural laxity of the ex¬
tremities of the uterine arteries.—The remote causes
may be, 1. Those which increase the plethoric state of
the uterine vessels •, as a full and nourishing diet, much
strong liquor, and frequent intoxications. 2. Those
which determine the blood more copiously and for¬
cibly into the utei'ine vessels j as violent strainings of
the Avhole body violent shocks from falls ; strokes or
contusions on the lower belly j violent exercise, parti¬
cularly in dancing ; and violent passions of the mind.
3. Those which particularly irritate the vessels of the
uterus j as excess in venery j the exercise of venery
in the time of menstruation j a costive habit, giving
occasion to violent straining at stool j and cold applied
to the feet. 4. Those which have forcibly overstrained
the extremities of the uterine vessels , as frequent abor¬
tions, frequent childbearing without nursing, and diffi¬
cult or tedious labours. Or, lastly, Those which in¬
duce a general laxity j as living much in Avarm cham¬
bers, and drinking much of Avarm enervating liquors,
such as tea, coffee, &c.
Cure. The treatment and cure of the menorrhagia,
must be difl’erent according to the different causes of
the disease. The practices employed, however, are
chiefly used with one of tAVO intentions ; either with
the vieAV of restraining the discharge Avhen present, or
of pi*eventing the return of an excessive discharge at
the succeeding period. The first is chiefly to be ac¬
complished by employing such practices as diminish
the force occasioning the discharge of blood, or as
augment the resistance to its passage through the
vessels by Avhich it is to be discharged^ The last is in
some degree to be obtained by avoiding causes which
either increase the general impetus of the blood, or
the impetus at the uterus in particular; but princi-
MEDICINE.
p ctice.
J nor- pally by giving additional vigour to the uterine
i <rise. sels.
t, In all cases, the first attention ought to be given t6
avoiding the remote causes, whenever they can be
done *, and by such attention the disease may be often
entirely cured. When the remote causes cannot be
avoided, or when the avoiding them has been ne¬
glected, and a copious menstruation has come on, it
should be moderated as much as possible, by abstain¬
ing from all exercise at the coming on or during the
continuance of the menstruation; by avoiding even an
erect posture as much as possible ; by shunning exter¬
nal heat, and of course warm chambers and soft beds ;
by using a light and cool diet •, by taking cold drink,
at least as far as former habits will allow j by avoid¬
ing venery; by obviating costiveness, or removing it
by laxatives which give little stimulus. The sex are
commonly negligent, either in avoiding the remote
causes, or in moderating the first beginnings of this
disease. It is by such neglect that it so frequently
becomes violent and of difficult cure ; and the frequent
repetition of a copious menstruation may be considered
as a cause of great laxity in the extreme vessels of the
uterus.
When the coming on of the menstruation has been
preceded by some disorder in other parts of the body,
and is accompanied with pains of the back, somewhat
like parturient pains, with febrile symptoms, and when
at the same time the flow seems to be copious, a bleed¬
ing at the arm may be proper, but is not often neces¬
sary ; and it will in most cases be sufficient to employ,
with great attention and diligence, those means already
mentioned for moderating the dischai’ge.
WThen the immoderate flow of the menses shall seem
to be owing to a laxity of the vessels of the uterus, as
may be concluded from the general debility and laxity
of the person’s habit *, from the remote causes that
have occasioned the disease; from the absence of the
symptoms which denote increased action in the vessels
of the uterus ; from the frequent recurrence of the
disease j and particularly from this, that the female in
the intervals of menstruation is liable to a leucorrhcea:
in such a case, the disease is to be treated, not only by
employing all the means above mentioned for mode-
i-ating the haemorrhage, but also by avoiding all irrita¬
tion, every irritation having a greater effect in propor¬
tion as the vessels are more lax and yielding. If, in
such a case of laxity, it shall appear that some degree
of irritation occurs, opiates may be employed to mode¬
rate the discharge j but in using these much caution is
requisite. If, notwithstanding these measures having
been taken, the discharge shall prove very large, astrin¬
gents both external and internal may be employed. In
such cases, Dr Cullen asks, May small doses of emetics
be of service ?
When the menorrhagia depends on the laxity of the
uterine vessels, it will be proper, in the intervals of
menstruation, to employ tonic remedies ; as cold bathing
and chalybeates. The exercises of gestation also may
be very useful, both for strengthening the whole system,
and for taking off the determination of the blood to the
internal parts.
These remedies may be employed in all cases of me¬
norrhagia, from whatever cause it may have proceeded,
363
if it shall have already induced a considerable degree of JLeucor
debility in the body. ri10ea.
Sp. II. Abortion.
247
Menorrhagia abortus, Cul.
Menorrhagia gravidarum, Sauv. sp. 6.
Abortus efiluxio, Sauv. sp. 1.
a, Abortus subtrimestris.
b, Abortus subsemestris.
c, Abortus octimestris.
Abortus ab uteri laxitate, Sauv. sp. 2.
Sp. III. Immoderate Flux of the Lochia. . ^
Menorrhagia lochialis, Sauv. sp. 8. Cul.
For the description, treatment, and cure, of these
two last diseases, see Midwifery.
Sp. IV. Immoderate Flow of the Menses frotn some
local disorder.
Menorrhagia vitiorum, Cul.
Menorrhagia ex hysteroptosi, Sauv. sp. 5.
Menorrhagia ulcerosa, Sauv. sp. 9.
Sp. V. The Leucorrhcea, Fluor Albus, or Whites. 2 _0
Menorrhagia alba, Cvl.
Leucorrhoea, Sauv. gen. 267.
Menorrhagia decolor, Sauv. sp. 7.
Leucorrhoea Americana, Sauv. sp. 5.
Leucorrhoea Indica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Leucorrhoea Nabothi, Sauv. sp. 9.
Leucorrhcea gravidarum, Sauv. sp. 8.
Description. Fhe jluor albus, female weakness, or
whites, as it is commonly called, is a disease of the
womb and its contiguous parts *, from which a pale-co¬
loured, greenish, or yellow fluid is discharged, attend¬
ed with loss of strength, pain in the Joins, bad diges¬
tion, and a wan sickly aspect.
Causes, &c. The quantity, colour, and consistence
of the discharge chiefly depend upon the time of its
duration, the patient’s habit of body, and the 118101*6
of the cause by which it was produced. Taking cold,
strong liquor, immoderate beat and moisture, or vio¬
lent exercise, are all observed to produce a bad effect,
as to its quantity and quality.
Weakly women of lax solids, who have had many
children, and long laboured under ill health, are of
all the most subject to this disagreeable disease 5 from
which they unfortunately suffer more severe penance
than others, as the nicest sensations are often connected
with such a delicacy of bodily frame as subjects them
to it.
In Holland it is very frequent, and in a manner pe¬
culiar to the place, from the dampness of its situation j
the surrounding air being so overcharged with moisture
as to relax the body, stop perspiration, and throw it
upon the bowels or womb; producing in the first a
diarrhoea or flux, in the last the fluor albus or female
weakness.
The discharge often proceeds from the vessels subser¬
vient to menstruation ■, because, in delicate habits, where
those vessels are weak, and consequently remain too
Z 7. 2 long
M E D I C I N E.
ves-
.564
I-JUemor- long uncontracted, \X\tfluor albus sometimes immediate-
rliaSi£e. ly follows the menses, and goes off by degrees as they
 v'—' gradually close. It also comes from the mucous glands
of the womb, as is particularly evident in very young
females of eight and ten years old ; in whom, though
very rarely, it has been observed, and where it must
then necessarily have escaped from those parts, as the
uterine vessels are not sufficiently enlarged for its passage
at so early a period.
Sometimes, as in women with child, it proceeds
from the passage to the womb, and not Irom the womb
itself} which, during pregnancy, is closely sealed up,
so that nothing can pass from thence till the time ol
labour. The application of those instruments called
pesswies, from the pain and irritation they occasion,
is also apt to bring on this discharge. Hence we
may conclude, that this disease may happen although
the blood be in a pure state. Here the fault seems to
be placed in the vessels at the part, by which the
fluids are vitiated and changed from their natural quali¬
ties.
The ftuor albus has been supposed to supply the
want of the menses} because where the first prevails,
the last is generally either irregular or totally wanting:
but it might more properly be said, that the presence
of the Jluor albus, which is a preternatural evacuation,
occasions the absence of that which is natural j as is
evident from the return of the menses after the Jluor
albus has been cured. Indeed, when this discharge
appears about the age of 13 or i4j ant^ returns once a
month, with symptoms like those of the menses, then
it may be deemed strictly natural, and therefore ought
not to be stopped.
Pt 'ognosis. The Jluor albus may be distinguished in¬
to two kinds. The first arises from a simple weakness,
or the relaxation of the solids ; which may either be
general, where the whole bodily system is enervated and
unstrung j or partial, where the womb only is thus af¬
fected, in consequence of hard labour, frequent miscar¬
riages, a suppression or immoderate quantity of the
menses, or a sprain of the back or loins.
In the first case, the discharge being generally mild,
may be safely taken away. In the second, it may
proceed from a vitiated or impure blood, where the
body, from thence, is loaded with gross humours,
which nature for her own security and relief thus en¬
deavours to carry off. In such cases, the discharge is
often of a reddish colour, like that from old ulce¬
rous sores 5 being sometimes so sharp as to excoriate
the contiguous parts, and occasion a smarting and heat
of urine.
A deep-seated, darting pain, with a forcing down,
attending such a discharge is a very dangerous and
alarming sign, and indicates an ulceration or cancerous
state of the womb. This malignant state of the disease,
if of long continuance, is extremely difficult to cure;
and disposes the patient to barrenness, a bearing down,
dropsy, or consumption.
Cure, &c. The causes of those two kinds of this
disease being different, so they will require a very dif¬
ferent method of cure. For this purpose, in the first
case, nothing will be more proper than nourishing
simple food *, such as veal broths, jellies, fresh eggs,
and milk diet. The acid fruits will also be proper ;
and the patient may take a restorative, strengthening
Practit
infusion, which will give firmness- to the body, and assist j
the weakened fibres of the womb in returning to their rE
natural state. ''T"
The same method may be used with success, where
the Jluor albus follows the menses, as already obser¬
ved.
The Tunbridge or Spa waters may be drank at the
same time ; and, if necessary, an infusion of green tea,
or pure smith’s forge water, may be used with a womb-
syringe as an injection twice a-day. Should the dis¬
ease prove uncommonly obstinate, the patient may go
into the cold bath every second day ; and also drink
lime-water with milk, which will expedite the cure,
and prevent a relapse. Volatile liniment, and after¬
wards a strengthening plaster, may be applied to the
small of the back.
By way of caution, the female should abstain from
the immoderate use of tea and be removed into a dry
clear air j or if she be obliged to remain in one less
proper, she may apply the flesh-brush, and wear a flan¬
nel shift next her skin, impregnated with the fumes of
burning frankincense or any of the grateful aromatic-
gums. Cold spring water pumped on the loins, or a
blistering plaster applied to the bottom of the spine or
back, are both very powerful in their effects, and have
sometimes succeeded after other remedies had been
tried in vain.
In the second species of the disease, where the dis¬
charge is sharp and of long standing, it would be ex¬
tremely dangerous to suppress it suddenly, either by
astringents internally taken, or applied as injections,
until the system be restored to a more sound and vigo¬
rous condition.
A purging potion may be taken twuce a-week, and
in the intervals an alterative pill night and morning.
After this course has been continued a fortnight or
three weeks, she may begin with the strengthening
bitter infusion, or some other tonic, in the quantity
of a tea-cupful twice a-day, or to a greater extent if
the stomach will allow.
The same sort of food and regimen will here be
proper as in the first kind of the disease. The patient
should abstain from malt liquors, and drink rice-water,
in each pint of which half an ounce of gum-arabic has
been dissolved •, or if she be weak, and of a cold bloat¬
ed habit of body, a little French brandy may be added
occasionally*
When she begins to take the bitter infusion, it will
be proper to use the Tunbridge or Pyrmont water for
common drink j but if those cannot conveniently be
had, the alkaline aerated water, impregnated with iron,
will make an excellent substitute. If it should render her
costive, and occasion headach, she may desist, and drink
a solution of crystals of tartar, or a little senna tea sweat-
ened with manna, till those complaints be removed.
In short, as this is a malady of the most disagreeable
kind, which by long continuance or neglect becomes
difficult; of cure, and often produces an ulceration oj
the womb, bearing down, barrenness, a dropsy, or con¬
sumption ; it were to be wished that women, on such
occasions, would be more attentive to their own safety,
by using all possible means, in due time, to prevent
those disorders.
Dr Leake says he has attended more patients labour¬
ing under theJUeor albus in the autumn than at any other
season
MEDICINE.
MEDICINE.
p elite.
} nor- season of the year, especially when the weather was
, rite, uncommonly moist and cold : most of them were cured
by change of diet, an increased perspiration, and the
proper use of einehona with aromatics. He observed,
that several about this time who escaped the disorder,
were visited with bad colds, a defluxion on the throat,
or a diarrhoea, which were removed by a similar treat¬
ment.
Among other remedies which have been recom¬
mended in leucorrhoea, recourse has lately been had to
the internal use of cantharides. This remedy for leu-
corrhcea has, in particular, been highly extolled in a
late publication on the powers of cantharides, when
used internally, written by Mr John Roberton, surgeon
in Edinburgh. The analogy between gleet and leu¬
corrhoea, Mr Roberton tells us, suggested to him, that
the cantharides, which he had employed with such good
effects in gleet, might also be used in lencorrhoea.
The event, he affirms, fully answered his expectations,
and he has employed the remedy with very great suc¬
cess. The cantharides were used under the form of
tincture : the tinctura meloes vesicatorii of the Edin¬
burgh Pharmacopoeia. This medicine he employed in
much larger doses than is commonly prescribed. Thus
a mixture containing an ounce of the tincture of cam-
tharides, diflused in six ounces of wrater, was taken to
the extent of half an ounce, four times a day ; nay, in
some cases, the tincture was exhibited to the extent of half
an ounce in a day, without any inconvenience, and with
the best effects. As examples of the power of this re¬
medy, Mr Roberton has given a detail of six cases, se¬
lected from a number which have been under his care.
, In three cases, as being the most inveterate, the effects
of the cantharides were most evident. And we shall
only observe, that if this remedy be found by other
practitioners to be equally successiul in the cure of leu-
corrhoea, it will be a very valuable acquisition in the
practice of medicine, especially if it shall be found by
others, as well as by Mr Roberton, that not only the
general symptoms of leucorrhoea are removed, but that
the tone and functions of the uterine system are com¬
pletely restored by the use of cantharides.
As women are sometimes connected with those who
do not conscientiously regard their safety, it is a cir¬
cumstance of the utmost consequence to distinguish a
fresh venereal infsetion from the Jluor ulbus or whites :
for if the first be mistaken for the last, and be either ne¬
glected or improperly treated, the worst consequences
may arise.
I he following signs wflll best inform the patient
whether there be occasion for her doubts or not.
A fresh infection, called gonorrhoea, is malignant and
inflammatory; the Jlmr albus most commonly arises
from relaxation and bodily weakness : and therefore the
remedies pi-oper in the first disorder would render the
fast more violent, by locking up and confining the in¬
fectious matter.
In the gonorrhoea, the discharge chiefly proceeds
from the parts contiguous to the urinary passage, and
continues whilst the menses flow; but in the fluor albus
it is supplied from the cavity of the womb and its pas-
sage, and then the menses are seldom regular.
In the gonorrhoea, an itching, inflammation, and
beat of urine, are the forerunners of the discharge j the
orifice of the urinary passage is prominent and painful, Catarrlms.
and the patient is affected with a frequent irritation to —v—" -»
make water. In the Jluor albus, pains in the loins, and
loss of strength, attend the discharge 5 and if any in¬
flammation or heat of urine follow, they happen in a
less degree, and only after a long continuance of the
discharge, which, becoming sharp and acrimonious, ex¬
coriates the surrounding parts.
In the gonorrhoea, the discharge suddenly appears
without any evident cause 5 but in the fluor albus, it
comes on more slowly, and is often produced by irregu¬
larities of the menses, frequent abortion, sprains, &or
long-continued illness.
In the gonorrhoea, the discharge is greenish or yel¬
low, less in quantity, and not attended with the same
symptoms of weakness. In the fluor albus, although '
sometimes of the same colour, especially in bad habits
of body, and after long continuance, it is usually more
offensive and redundant in quantity.
All the other kinds of haemorrhage enumerated by
medical writers, are by Hr Cullen reckoned to be symp¬
tomatic.
Stomacace, Sauv. gen. 241. Lin. 175. Vog. 85.
Sag. gen. 177.
Species : Scorbutica, Purulenta, &c.
Hjfmatemesis, Sauv. gen. 242. Lin. 184. Vog. 89.
Sag. gen. 177.
Species : Plethorica, Catamenialis, Scorbutica, &c.
Hjematurta, Sam), gen. 233. Lin. 198. Vog. 92.
Sag. gen. 178.
Species: Purulenta, Calculosa, Hrcmorrhoidalis, &C.-
Order V. PROFLUVIA.
Genus XL. CATARRHUS.
The Catarrh.
Catarrhus, Sauv. gen. 186. Vog. 98. Sag. gen. 145.
Coryza, Lin. 174. Vog. 100. Sag. gen. 196.
Rheuma, Sauv. gen. 142.
Tussis, Sauv. gen. 142. Lin. 155. Vog. 205. Sag.
gen. 245, 255. Junck. 30.
Tussis catarrhalis et rheumatica, Hojfm. III. 109.
Sp. I. Catarrh from Cold.
Catarrhus a frigore, Cul.
Catarrhus benignus, Sauv. sp. 1.
Catarrhus pectoreus, Sauv. sp. 6.
Coryza catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 1.
Coryza phlegmatorrhagia, Sauv. sp. 2. Salmutht.
Obs. cent. 1, 37. Junck. 28. Morgagn. de sed'.
xiv- 21.
Coryza febricosa, Sauv. sp. 6.
Tussis catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 1. N. JRosen. Hiss, apud -
Haller, Disput. Pract. tom. ii.
Rheuma catarrhale, Sauv. sp. 1.
Ampbimerina catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Amphimerina tussiculosa, Sauv. sp. 13.
Cephalalgia catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 10.
SP. IT.
M E D I
Sp. II. Catarrh from Contagion'.
Catarrhus a contagio, Cu/.
Catarrhus epidemicus, Sanv. sp. 3.
Ilheuma epidemicum, Sauv. sp. 2.
Synocha catarrhalis, Sauv. sp, 5.
There are several symptomatic species : as, Catarrhus
Rubeolosus j Tussis Variolosa, Verminosa, Calculosa,
Phthisica, Hysterica, & dentitione, Gravidarum,
Metallicolarum, &c.
Description. The catarrh is an increased excretion
of mucus from the mucous membrane of the nose,
fauces and bronchi*, attended with pyrexia.
Practical writers and nosologists have distinguished
the disease by different appellations, according as it
happens to affect different parts of the mucous mem¬
brane, one part more or less than the other: but Hr
Cullen is of opinion that the disease in those different
parts is always of the same nature, and proceeds from
the same cause in the one as in the other. Very com¬
monly indeed, those different parts are affected at the
same time ; and therefore there is little room for the
distinction mentioned. The disease has been frequent¬
ly treated of under the title of tussis or cough ; and a
cough, indeed, always attends the chief form of catarrh,
that is, the increased excretion from the bronchi* j but
as it is so often also a symptom of many other affections,
which are very different from one another, it is impro¬
perly used as a generic title.
The disease generally begins with some difficulty of
breathing through the nose, and with a sense of some
fulness stopping up that passage. This again is often
attended with some dull pain and a sense of weight in
ihe forehead, as w'ell as a stiffness in the motion of the
eyes. These feelings, sometimes at their very first
beginning, and always soon after, are attended with
tue distillation of a thin fluid from the nose, and
sometimes from the eyes j and these fluids are often
found to be somewhat acrid, both by their taste and
by their fretting the parts over which they pass.
These symptoms constitute the coryza and gravedo of
authors, and are commonly attended with a sense of
lassitude over the whole body. Sometimes cold shi-
verings are felt j at least the body is more sensible than
usual to the coldness of the air; and with all this the
pulse is more frequent than ordinary, especially in the
evenings.
Ihese symptoms have seldom continued long before
they are accompanied with some hoarseness, and a
sense of roughness and soreness in the trachea, with
some difficulty of breathing, expressed by a sense of
straitness m the chest, and with a cough which seems
to arise from some irritation felt at the glottis. This
cough is generally at first dry and painful, occasioning
pains about the chest, and more especially in the
breast; sometimes, together with these symptoms,
pains resembling those of the rheumatism are felt in
several parts of the body, particularly about the neck
and head. With all these symptoms, the appetite is
impaired, some thirst arises, and a feverish lassitude is
felt all over the body. These symptoms mark the
height and violence of the disease j but commonly
it does not continue long. By degrees the cough
cine. Practi I
comes to be attended with a more copious Excretion of cata
mucus 5 which is at first thin, but gradually becomingl—]
thicker, is brought up with less frequent and less la¬
borious coughing. The hoarseness and soreness of
the trachea are also x’elieved or removed 5 and the fe¬
brile symptoms abating, the expectoration becomes
again less considerable, and the cough less frequent, till
at length they cease altogether.
Such is generally the course of this disease, neither
tedious nor dangerous; but it is sometimes in both
respects otherwise. The body subjected to catarrh
seems to be more than usually liable to be affected
by cold air ; and upon exposure of the body to fresh
cold, the disease, which seemed to be yielding, is
often brought back with greater violence than before,
and is rendered not only more tedious than otherwise
it would be, but also more dangerous by the superven¬
ing of other diseases. Some degree of the cynanche
tonsillaris often accompanies the catarrh ; and when
this is aggravated by a fresh application of cold, the
cynanche also becomes more violent and dangerous
from the cough which is present at the same time.
When a catarrh has been occasioned by a violent cause,
when it has been aggravated by improper manage¬
ment, and especially when it has been rendered more
violent by fresh and repeated applications of cold, it
often passes into a pneumonic inflammation, attended
with the utmost danger.
Unless, however, such accidents as these happen, a
catarrh, in sound persons not far advanced in life, is
always a slight and safe disease : but in persons of a
phthisical disposition, a catarrh may readily produce a
haemoptysis, or perhaps form tubercles, in the lungs j
and still more readily in persons who have tubercles
already formed in the lungs, an accidental catarrh may
occasion the inflammation of these tubercles, and in
consequence produce a phthisis pulmonalis.
In elderly persons, a catarrh sometimes proves a
dangerous disease. Many persons, as they advance in
life, and especially after they have arrived at old age,
have the natural mucus of the lungs poured out in
greater quantity, and requiring a frequent expectora¬
tion. If, therefore, a catarrh happen to such per¬
sons, and increase the afflux of fluids to the lungS,
W'ith some degree of inflammation, it may produce
the peripneumonia notha, or more properly chronic
catarrh, a disease continuing often for many years, or
at least returning regularly every winter j which in
such cases is very often fatal.
Causes, &c. The proximate cause of catarrh seems
to be an increased afflux of fluids to the mucous mem¬
brane of the nose, fauces, and bronchi*, along with
some degreee of inflammation affecting the same. The
latter circumstance is confirmed by this, that, in the
case of catarrh, the blood drawn from a vein com¬
monly exhibits the same inflammatory crust which ap¬
pears in the case of phlegmasi*. The remote cause
of catarrh is most commonly cold applied to the body.
I his application of cold producing catarrh is gene¬
rally evident; and Hr Cullen is of opinion that it would
always be so, were men acquainted with and attentive
to the circumstances which determine cold to act upon
the body.
I he application of cold which occasions a catarrh
probably operates by ^stopping the discharge usually
made
366
Profluvia.
pr :tice.
ft v;a. made by the skin, and vvliicli is therefore determined to
u. —•'the mucous membrane of tlie parts above mentioned.
As a part of the weight which the body daily loses by
insensible evacuation, is owing to an exhalation from
the lungs, there is probably a connexion between this
exhalation and the cutaneous perspiration, so that the
one may be increased according as the other is dimi¬
nished ; and therefore -we may understand how the di¬
minution of cutaneous perspiration, by the application
of cold, may increase the afflux of fluids to the lungs,
and thereby produce a catarrh.
Dr Cullen remarks that there are some observations
of Dr James Keil which may render this matter
doubtful; but says there is a fallacy in those observa¬
tions. The evident effects of cold in producing
coryza, leave the matter, in general, without doubt j
and there are several other observations which show a
connexion between the lungs and the surface of the
body.
Whether from the suppression of perspiration, a ca¬
tarrh be produced merely by an increased afflux of
fluids, or whether in addition to this the matter of per¬
spiration be at the same time determined to the mu¬
cous glands, and there excites a particular irritation,
may be uncertain j but Dr Cullen thinks the latter
supposition is most probable.
Although in the case of a common catarrh, which
is in many instances sporadic, it may be doubtful
whether any morbific matter be applied to the mu¬
cous glands j yet we are certain that the symp¬
toms of a catarrh do frequently depend upon such a
matter being applied to these glands, as appears from
the case of measles, chincough, and especially from
the frequent occurrence of contagious and epidemical
catarrh.
The phenomena of contagious catarrhs have been
much the same with those of the others ; and the dis¬
ease has always been particularly remarkable for this,
that it has been the most widely and generally spread¬
ing epidemic known. It has seldom appeared in any
one country of Europe, without appearing successively
in almost every different part of it j and, in some in¬
stances, it has been also transferred to America, and
has been spread there in like manner, so far as we have
had opportunities of being informed.
The catarrh from contagion appears with nearly
the same symptoms as those above mentioned. It seems
often to come on in consequence of the application of
cold. And indeed catarrh from cold and contagion
are in every respect so similar, that when this epide¬
mic rages, it is impossible to determine with a person
having symptoms of catarrh after exposure to cold,
whether the disease proceeds from the one cause or
the other. In most instances, however, catarrh from
contagion comes on with more cold shivering than the
catarrh arising from cold alone ; and the former does
also not only sooner show febrile symptoms, but to
a more considerable degree. Accordingly, it more
speedily runs its course, which is commonly finished
in a few days. It sometimes ends by a spontaneous
sweat; and this, in some persons, produces a miliary
eruption. It is, however, the febrile state of this
disease especially that is finished in a few days ; for
the cough and other catarrhal symptoms do frequent¬
ly continue longer, and often when they appear to be
36j
going off they are renewed by any fresh application of Catarrhus.
cold. w—
Prognosis. Considering the number of persons who
are affected with catarrh, of either the one species or
the other, and escape from it quickly withoilt any
hurt, it may be allowed to be a disease commonly free
from danger : but it is not always to be treated as such j
for in some persons it is accompanied with pneumonic
inflammation. In the phthisically disposed, it often
accelerates the coming on of phthisis *, and in elderly
persons it often proves fatal in the manner we have ex¬
plained above, viz. by degenerating into its chronic
state. But though chronic catarrh be often the termi¬
nation of that species which arises from cold, we have
not, in any case, observed it to arise as a consequence
of a catarrh from contagion. This species of catarrh,
however, is not unfrequently follow'ed by phthisis ; or
rather, where a phthisical tendency before existed, the
affection has been begun and its progress accelerated
from this cause.
Cure. The cure of catarrh is nearly the same,
whether it proceeds from cold or contagion; only in
the latter case remedies are commonly more necessary
than in the former. In the cases of a moderate dis¬
ease, it is commonly sufficient to avoid cold, or to ab¬
stain from animal food for some days. In some cases,
where the febrile symptoms are considerable, it is pro¬
per for that length of time to lie in bed, and, by taking
frequently some mild and diluted drink, a little warm¬
ed, to promote a very gentle sweat; and after this to
take care to return very gradually only to the use of
the free air. When the disease is more violent, not
only the antiphlogistic regimen, exactly observed, hut
various remedies also, become necessary. To take
oil the phlogistic diathesis which always attends this
disease, blood-letting, more or less, according as the
symptoms shall require, is the proper remedy. After
blood-letting, for restoring the determination of the
fluids to the surface of the body, and at the same
time for expediting the secretion of mucus in the lungs,
which may take off' the inflammation of its membrane,
vomiting is the most effectual means. For the last-
mentioned purpose, it has been supposed that squills,
gum-ammoniac, the volatile alkali, and some other
medicines, might be useful 5 but their efficacy has
never been found considerable : and if squills have ever
been very useful, it seems to have been rather by their
emetic than by their expectorant powers. W hen the
inflammatory affections of the lungs seem to be consi¬
derable, it is proper, besides blood-letting, to apply blis¬
ters to the back or sides.
As a cough is often the most troublesome circum¬
stance of this disease, so demulcents may be employed
to alleviate it. But after the inflammatory symptoms
are much abated, if the cough still remains, opiates af¬
ford the most effectual means of relieving it j and, in
the circumstances just now mentioned, they may be
very safely employed. Very considerable advantage
is often derived from employing opiates in such a
manner as to act more immediately on the head of
the wind-pipe. For this purpose, opium may often
be advantageously conjoined with demulcents, melting
slowly in the mouth. And perhaps no form is more
convenient, or answers the purpose better, than the
troc/nsci phiciirrhi%ce cum opio of the Edinburgh Phar¬
macopoeia,
MEDICINE,
3&g M E D T
Pi-ofluvia. macopceia, where purified opium is combined with
* v ' extract of liquorice, gum arable, and other demul¬
cents, to the extent of about a grain in a dram of the
composition. After the inflammatory and febrile
states of this disease are very much gone, the most ef¬
fectual means of discussing all remains of the catarrhal
aflection is by some exercise of gestation diligently em¬
ployed.
Besides the remedies above mentioned, Dr Mudge,
in a treatise on this disease, recommends the steam of
warm water as a most efficacious and safe remedy for
a catarrh, and which indeed he seems to consider as
little less than infallible. The method of breathing in
these steams is described under the word Inhaler 5
but he gives a caution to people in health, who may
accidentally see his machine, not to make the experi¬
ment of breathing through cold water with it, or they
will be almost certain of catching a severe cold. Hi's
directions for those troubled with the catarrh are as
follow :
“ In the evening, a little before bedtime, the pa¬
tient, if of adult age, is to take three drams, or as
many tea-spoonfuls, of elixir paregoricum, in a glass
of water: if the subject be younger, for instance under
five years old, one tea-spoonful j or between that and
ten years, two. About three quarters of an hour af¬
ter, the patient should go to bed, and, being covered
warm, the inhaler three parts filled with w ater nearly
boiling (which, from the coldness of the metal, and
the time it ordinarily takes before it is to be used by
the patient, will be of a proper degree of warmth),
and being wrapped up in a napkin, but so that the
valve in the cover is not obstructed by it, is to be
placed at the arm-pit, and the bedclothes being drawn
up and over it close to the throat, the tube is to be
applied to the mouth, and the patient should inspire
and expire through it for about twenty minutes or
half an hour.
“ It is very evident, as the whole act of respiration
is performed through the machine, that in inspiration
the lungs will be filled with air which will be hot, and
loaded with vapour, by passing through the body of
water} and in exspiration, all that was contained in
the lungs will, by mixing with the steam on the sur¬
face ol the water, be forced through the valve in the
cover, and settle on the surface, of .the body under the
bedclothes.
“ Ihe great use of this particular construction of
the inhaler is this : First, As there is no necessity, at
the end of every inspiration, to remove the tube from
the mouth, in order to expire from the lungs the va¬
pour which had been received into them, this machine
may therefore be used with as much ease by children
as older people. And, secondly, As a feverish habit
frequently accompanies the disorder, the valve in that
respect also is of the utmost importance : for a sweat,
or at least a free perspiration, not only relieves, the
patient from the restless anxiety of a hot, dry, and
sometimes parched skin, but is also, of all evacuations,
the most eligible lor removing the fever ; and it will
be generally found, that, after the inhaler so con¬
structed has been used a few minutes, the warm
vapour under the clothes will, by settling upon the
trunk, produce a sweat, which will gradually extend
itself to the legs and feet.
CINE. Practii
“ In a catarrhous fever, or any feverish habit attend- Catarr
ing this cough, it would be proper to take a draught of -y, ,
warm thin whey a few minutes before the inhaler be
used 5 and after the process is over, the sweat which it
has produced may be continued by occasional small
draughts of weak warm whey or barley-water. The
swreating is by no means so necessary to the cure of the
catarrhous cough, as that the success of the inhaler
against that complaint at all depends upon it.
“ After this respiratory process is over, the patient
usually passes the night without the least interruption
from the cough, and feels no further molestation from
it than once or twice in the morning to throw off the
trifling leakage which, unperceived, had dripped, into
the bronchiae and vesicles during the night; the thin¬
ner parts of which being evaporated, what remains is
soon got rid of by a very gentle effort.
“ 1 cannot, however, take leave of this part of my
subject, without pointedly observing, that if the pa¬
tient means not to he disappointed by my assurances or
his own expectations, it is essentially necessary that the
following remarks, with regard to the time and man¬
ner of using this process, should be strictly attended
to.
“ First, That as.tender valetudinary people are but
too well acquainted with the first notices of the disorder,
the remedy must, or ought to he, used the same even¬
ing 5 which will, in an ordinary seizure, he attended
with an immediate cure : but if tlie,soreness of the re¬
spiratory organs, or the petulance , of the cough, show
the cold which has been contracted. to have been very
severe, the inhaler, without the opiate, should be again
repeated for the same time the next morning.
“ Secondly, If the use of the inhaler, &c. he delay¬
ed till the second night, it will he always right to re¬
peat it again the next morning.without the opiate, but
with it if the seizure has been violent.
“ And, lastly, If the cough be of some, days stand¬
ing, it will be always necessary to employ both parts
of the process at night and the succeeding morning,
as the first simple inflammatory, mischief is now most
probably aggravated by an additional one of a chronic
tendency'.
“ But if, through the want of a timely application,
or a total neglect of .this or any other remedy, the
cough should continue to harass the patient, it is, par¬
ticularly in delicate and tender constitutions, of the ut¬
most consequence to attempt the removal of it as soon
as possible, before any floating acrimony in the consti¬
tution (from the perpetual irritation) receives an habi¬
tual determination to an organ so essential to life as the
lungs.
“ If the ..patient expectorate with ease and freedom
a thick and well-digested inoffensive phlegm, there is
generally but little doubt of his spitting oft . the disor¬
der, with common care, in a few days ; and till that be
accomplished, a proper dose of elixir paregaricum for
a few successive nights will be found very useful in sup¬
pressing the fatiguing irritation and ineffectual cough,
occasioned by a matter which, dripping in the early
state of the disease into the. bronchiae during the night,
is commonly at that time too thin to be discharged by
these convulsive eft’orts.
“ If, however, notwithstanding a free and copious
expectoration, the cough should still continue, and the
discharge,
MEDICINE.
pr tice.
Proj ia. discharge, instead of removing the complaint, should
J, mmJ itself, by becoming a disease, be a greater expence than
the constitution can well support, it is possible that a
tender patient may spit off his life through a weak re¬
laxed pair of lungs, without the least appearance of pu-
rulence, or any suspicion of suppuration. In those cir¬
cumstances, besides, as was mentioned before, increas¬
ing the general perspiration by the salutary friction of
a flannel waistcoat, change of situation, and more espe¬
cially long journeys on horseback, conducted as much
as possible through a thin, sharp, dry air, will seldom
fail of removing the complaint.
“ But, on the contrary, if the cough should, at
the same time that it is petulant and fatiguing to the
breast, continue dry, husky, and without expectora¬
tion j provided there be reason to hope that no tu¬
bercles are forming, or yet actually formed, there is
not perhaps a more efficacious remedy for it than half
a dram of gum-ammoniacum, with 18 or 20 drops
of liquid laudanum, made into pills, and taken at bed¬
time, and occasionally repeated. This excellent re¬
medy Sir John Pringle did me the honour to commu¬
nicate to me } and I have accordingly found it, in a
great many instances, amazingly successful, and gene¬
rally very expeditiously so, for it seldom fails to pro¬
duce an expectoration, and to abate the distressing fa¬
tigue of the cough. In those circumstances I have
likewise found the common remedy of Jss or 9ij of
bds. sulph. anisat. taken twice a-day, in a little pow¬
dered sugar or any other vehicle, a very efficacious
one. I have also, many times, known a salutary re¬
vulsion made from the lungs by the simple application
of a large plaster, about five or six inches diameter, of
Burgundy pitch, between the shoulders j for the perspi¬
rable matter, which is locked up under it, becomes so
sharp and acrid, that in a few days it seldom fails to
produce a very considerable itching, some little ten¬
dency to inflammation, and very frequently a great
number of boils. This application should be continued
(the plaster being occasionally changed), for three
weeks or a month, or longer, if the complaint be not so
soon removed.
“ And here I cannot help observing, that, though
seemingly a trifling, it is however by no means an use¬
less caution to the tender patient, not to expose his
shoulders in bed, and during the night, to the cold j
but when he lies down, to take care they be kept
warm, by drawing the bedclothes up close to his back
and neck.
“ If, however, notwithstanding these and other
means, the cough, continuing dry or unattended with
a proper expectoration, should persevere in harassing
the patient $ if, at last, it should produce, together
with a soreness, shooting pains through the breast and
between the shoulders, attended also with shortness of
the breath 5 and if, added to this, flushes of the cheeks
after meals, scalding in the hands and feet, and other
symptoms of a hectic, should accompany the disorder j
there is certainly no time to be lost, as there is the
greatest x-eason to apprehend that some acrimony in
the habit is determined to the tender substance of
the lungs, and that consequently tubercular suppura¬
tions will follow. In this critical and dangei'ous si¬
tuation, I think I can venture to say from long ex¬
perience, that, accompanied with changes of air and oc-
VOL. XIII. Part I.
casional bleedings, the patient will find his greatest sc- Dysentfria
curity in a drain from a large scapular issue, assisted by '
a diet of asses milk and vegetables.”
Genus XLI. DYSENTERIA. 234
The D YSENTERY.
Dysenteria, Sauv. gen. 248. Lin. 191. Vog, jo*.
*5>ag. 183. Hoffm, III. 151. Juntk. ^6.
Description. The dysentery is a disease in which
the patient has frequent stools, accompanied with
much griping, and followed by a tenesmus. The
stools, though frequent, are generally in small quan¬
tity ; and the matter voided is chiefly mucus, some,
times mixed with blood. At the same time, the na¬
tural faxes seldom appear : and when they do, it is
generally in a compact and hardened form, often un-
der the form of small hardened substances known by the
name of scybala. This disease occurs especially in
summer and autumn, at the same time with autumnal
intermittent and remittent fevers j and with these it
is often complicated. It comes on sometimes with
cold shiverings, and other symptoms of pyrexia j but
more commonly the symptoms of the topical affection
appear first. The belly is costive, with an unusual fla¬
tulence in the bowels. Sometimes, though more rare¬
ly, some degree of diarrhoea is the first appearance.—
In most cases, the disease begins with griping, and a
frequent inclination to go to stool. In indulging this,
little is voided, but some tenesmus attends it. By de¬
grees the stools become more frequent, the griping
more severe, and the tenesmus more considerable.—
With these symptoms there is a loss of appetite, and
frequently sickness, nausea, and vomiting, also affect¬
ing the patient. At the same time there is always
more or less of pyx-exia pixsent. It is sometimes of
the remittent kind, and observes a tertian period.—
Sometimes the pyrexia is manifestly inflammatory, and
very often of a putrid kind. These febrile states con¬
tinue to accompany the disease during its whole course,
especially when it terminates soon in a fatal manner.
In other eases, the febrile state almost entirely disap¬
pears, while the proper dysenteric symptoms remain
for a long time after. In the course of the disease,
whether for a shorter or a longer time, the matter
voided by stool is very various. Sometimes it is mere¬
ly a mucous matter, without any blood, exhibiting
that disease which is named by some the morbus muco-
sus, and by others the dysenteria alba. For the most
part, however, the mucus discharged is more or less
mixed with blood. This sometimes appears only in
streaks among the mucus j but at other times is more
copious, giving a tinct to the whole j and upon some
occasions a pure and unmixed blood is voided in con¬
siderable quantity. In other respects, the matter void¬
ed is variously changed in colour and consistence, and
is commonly of a strong and unusually fetid odour. It
is probable, that sometimes a genuine pus is voided,
and frequently a putrid sanies, proceeding from gan¬
grenous parts. There are very often mixed with the
liquid matter some films of a membranous appear¬
ance, and frequently some small masses of a seemingly
sebaceous matter. While the stools voiding these va¬
rious matters, are, in many instances, exceedingly fre-
t 3 A quent,
370 M E D I
Frofluvla. quent, it is seldom that natural fi£ces appear in them ;
-—J and when they do appear, it is, as we have said, in the
form of scybala, that is, in somewhat hardened, se¬
parate balls. When these are voided, whether by the
efforts of nature or as solicited by art, they procure
a remission of all the symptoms, and more especially of
the frequent stools, griping, and tenesmus.
Accompanied with these circumstances, the disease
proceeds for a longer or shorter time. When the
pyrexia attending it is of a violent inflammatory kind,
and move especially when it is of a very putrid nature,
the disease often terminates fatally in a very few days,
with all the marks of a supervening gangrene. When
the febrile state is more moderate, or disappears alto¬
gether, the disease is often protracted for weeks, and
even for months; but, even then, after a various du¬
ration, it often terminates fatally, and generally in
consequence of a return and considerable aggravation
of the inflammatory and putrid states. In some cases,
the disease ceases spontaneously j the frequency of
stools, the griping, and tenesmus, gradually diminish¬
ing, while natural stools return. In other cases, the
disease, with moderate symptoms, continues long, and
ends in a diarrhoea, sometimes accompanied with lien-
teric symptoms.
Causes, &c. The remote causes of this disease
have been variously represented. In general it arises
in summer or autumn,after considerable heats have pre¬
vailed for some time, and especially after very warm
and at the same time very dry states of the weather :
and the disease is much more frequent in warm than
in cooler climates. It happens, therefore, in the same
circumstances and seasons which considerably affect
the state of the bile in the human body j but the cho¬
lera is often without any dysenteric symptoms, and co¬
pious discharges of bile have been found to relieve the
symptoms of dysentery ; so that it is difficult to de¬
termine what connection the disease has with the state
of the bile.
It has been observed, that the effluvia from very pu¬
trid animal substances ready affect the alimentary ca¬
nal, and, upon occasion, they certainly produce a diar¬
rhoea ; but whether they ever produce a genuine dy¬
sentery, is not certain.
The dysentery does often manifestly arise from the
application of cold, but the disease is always conta¬
gious 5 and, by the propagation of such contagion, in¬
dependent of cold, or other exciting causes, it be¬
comes epidemic in camps and other places. It is,
therefore, to be doubted if the application of cold
ever produces the disease, unless where the specific con¬
tagion has been previously received into the body ^
and, upon the whole, it is probable that a specific con¬
tagion is to be considered as being always the remote
cause of this disease.
Whether this contagion, like many others, be of a
permanent nature, and only shows its effects in certain
circumstances which render it active, or if it be occa¬
sionally produced, we cannot determine. Neither, if
the latter supposition be received, can we say by what
means it may be generated. As little do we know
any thing of its nature, considered in itself; or at
most, only this, that in common with many other con¬
tagions, it is very often somewhat of a putrid nature,
and capable ol inducing a putrescent tendency in the
CINE. ' Practi,
human body. This, however, does not at all explain j)
the peculiar effect of inducing those symptoms which
properly and essentially constitute dysentery. Of these
symptoms the proximate cause is still obscure.—The
common opinion has been, that the disease depends up¬
on an acrid matter thrown upon or somehow generated
in the intestines, exciting their peristaltic motion, and
thereby producing the frequent stools which occur in
this disease. But this supposition cannot be adopted ;
for, in all the instances known, of acrid substances ap¬
plied to the intestines, and producing frequent stools,
they at the same time produce copious stools, as might
be expected from acrid substances applied to any length
of the intestines. This, however, is not the case in dy¬
sentery, in which the stools, however frequent, are ge¬
nerally in very small quantity, and such as may be sup¬
posed to proceed from the lower parts of the rectum
only. With respect to the superior portions of the in¬
testines, and particularly those of the colon, it is pro¬
bable they are under a pi’eternatural and considerable
degree of constriction: for, as we have said above, the
natural faeces are seldom voided ; and when they are, it
is in a form which gives reason to suppose they
have been long retained in the cells of the colon,
and consequently that the colon had been affected
with a preternatural constriction. This is confirmed
by almost all the dissections which have been made
of the bodies of dysenteric patients; in which, when
gangrene had not entirely destroyed the texture and
form of the parts, large portions of the great guts have
been found affected with a very considerable constric¬
tion.
The proximate cause of dysentery, or at least the
chief part of the proximate cause, seems to consist in a
preteniatural constriction of the colon, occasioning, at
the same time, those spasmodic efforts which are felt
in severe gripings, and which efforts, propagated down¬
wards to the rectum, occasion there the frequent mu¬
cous stools and tenesmus. But whether this expla¬
nation shall be admitted or not, it will still remain cer¬
tain, that hardened faeces, retained in the colon, are
the cause of the gripings, frequent stools, and tenes¬
mus ; for the evacuation of these faeces, whether by
nature or by art, gives relief from the symptoms men¬
tioned ; and it will be more fully and usefully confirm¬
ed by this, that the most immediate and successful cure
of dysentery is obtained by an early and constant at¬
tention to the preventing the constriction, and the fre¬
quent stagnation of faeces in the colon.
Cure. In the early periods of this disease, the objects
chiefly to be aimed at are the following : The dis¬
charge of acrid matter deposited in the alimentary
canal ; the counteracting the influence of this matter
when it cannot be evacuated ; the obviating the effects
resulting from such acrid matter as can neither be eva¬
cuated nor destroyed ; and, finally, the prevention ol
any further separation and deposition of such matter
in the alimentary canal. In the more advanced pe¬
riods of the disease, the principal objects are, the giv¬
ing a proper defence to the intestines against irritat¬
ing causes ; the diminution of the morbid sensibility of
the intestinal canal: and the restoration of due vigour
to the system in general, but to the intestines in parti¬
cular.
The most eminent of our late practitioners, and
of
ctice. MED]
jvia. of greatest experience in this disease, seem to be of
—opinion, that it is to he cured most effectually by pur¬
ging, assiduously employed. The means may be various 5
but the most gentle laxatives are usually sufficient; and,
as the medicine must be frequently repeated, these are
the more safe, more especially as an inflammatory state
so frequently accompanies the disease. Whatever laxa¬
tives produce an evacuation of natural faeces, and a
consequent remission of the symptoms, will be sufficient
to effectuate the cure. But if the gentle laxatives shall
not produce the evacuation now mentioned, somewhat
more powerful must be employed ; and Dr Cullen has
found nothing more proper or convenient than tartar
emetic, given in small doses, and at such intervals as
may determine its operation to be chiefly by stool. To
the tartrite of antimony, however, employed as a pur¬
gative, the great sickness which it is apt to occasion,
and the tendency which it has, notwithstanding every
precaution, to operate as an emetic, are certainly ob¬
jections. Another antimonial, at one time considered
as an almost infallible remedy for this disease, the vi-
trum antimonii ceratum, is no less exceptionable, from
the uncertainty and violence of its operation; and
perhaps the safest and best purgatives are the different
neutral salts, particularly those containing fossil alkali,
such as the soda vitriolata tartarisata or phosphorata.
Rhubarb, so frequently employed, is, Dr Cullen thinks,
in several respects, amongst the most unfit purgatives $
and indeed from its astringent quality, it is exception¬
able at the commencement of the affection, unless it be
conjoined with something to render its operation more
brisk, such as mild muriated mercury, or calomel as it
it is commonly called.
Vomiting has been held a principal remedy in this
disease 5 and may be usefully employed in the be¬
ginning, with a view both to the state of the
stomach and of the fever: but it is not necessary
to repeat it often 5 and, unless the emetics employed
operate also by stool, they are of little service. Ipe¬
cacuanha is by no means a specific ) and it proves on¬
ly useful when so managed as to operate chiefly by
stool.
For relieving the constriction of the colon, and eva¬
cuating the retained faeces, clyster’s may sometimes
be useful; but they are seldom so effectual as laxatives
given by the mouth ; and acrid clysters* if they be
not effectual in evacuating the colon, may prove hurt¬
ful by stimulating the rectum too much.
Ihe frequent and severe griping attending this dis¬
ease, leads almost necessarily to the use of opiates ; and
they are very effectual for the purpose of relieving
Irom the gripes : but, by occasioning an interruption
of the action of the small intestines, they favour the
constriction of the colon, and thereby aggravate the
disease j and if, at the same time, the use of them su¬
persede in any measure the employing purgatives, it
is doing much mischief; and the neglect of purging
seems to be the only thing which renders the use of
opiates very necessary.
When the gripes are both frequent and severe, they
way sometimes be relieved by the employment of the
semicupium, or by fomentation of the abdomen con¬
tinued for some time. In the same case, the pains
fiiay be relieved, and the constriction of the colon
3
CINE.
may be taken oft’, by blisters applied to the lower Dy
belly. '
At the beginning of this disease, when the fever
is any way considerable, bloodletting, in patients of
tolerable vigour, may be proper and necessary 5 and,
when the pulse is full and hard, with other symptoms
of an inflammatory disposition, bloodletting ought
to be repeated. But as the fever attending dysentery
is often of the typhoid kind, or does, in the course of
the disease, become soon of that nature, bloodletting
must be cautiously employed.
From our account of the nature of this disease, it
will be sufficiently obvious, that the use of astringents
in the beginning of it must be very pernicious. But
although astringents may be hurtful at early periods
of this affection, yet it cannot be denied, that where
frequent loose stools remain after the febrile symp¬
toms have subsided, they are often of great service
for diminishing morbid Sensibility, and restoring due
vigour to the intestinal canal. Accordingly, on this
ground a variety of articles have been highly celebrat¬
ed in this affection j among others we may mention
the quassia, radix indica lopeziana, verbascum, ex-
tractum catechu, and gum kino, all of which have
certainly in particular cases been employed with great
advantage. And pex-haps also, on the same principles
we are to account for the benefit which has been some¬
times derived from the nux vomica, a remedy highly
extolled in cases of dysentery by some of the Swedish
physicians j but this article, it must be allowed, often
proves very powerful as an evacuant. Its effects, how¬
ever, whatever its mode of operation may be, are too
precarious to allow its ever being inti’oduced into
common practice ; apd in this country, it has, we be¬
lieve, been but very rarely employed. Whether
an acrid matter be the original cause of the dysen¬
tery, may be uncertain ; but, from the indigestion,
and the stagnation of fluids, which attend the dis¬
ease, we may suppose that some acrid matters are con¬
stantly present in the stomach and intestines; and
therefore that demulcents may be always usefully em¬
ployed. At the same time, from the consideration
that mild oily matters thrown into the intestines in
considerable quantity always prove laxative, Dr Cullen
is of opinion, that the oleaginous demulcents are the
most useful. Where, however, these are not accept¬
able to the patient’s taste, those of the mucilaginous
and farinaceous kind, as the decoctum hordei, potio
cretacea, &c. are often employed with advantage.
As this disease is so often of an inflammatory or
of a putrid nature, it is evident that the diet em¬
ployed in it should be vegetable and acescent. Milk,
in its entire state, is of doubtful quality in many
cases 5 but even some portion of the cream is often al¬
lowable, and whey is always proper.—In the first
stages of the disease, the sweet and subacid fruits are
allowable and even proper. It is in the more advan¬
ced stages only that any morbid acidity seems to pre¬
vail in the stomach, and to require some reserve in the
use of acesents. At the beginning of the disease, ab¬
sorbents seem to be superfluous j and, by their astrin¬
gent and septic powers, they may be hurtful j but in
after periods they are often of advantage.
When this disease is complicated with an intermit-
3 A 2 tent,
MEDICINE.
Practk
2-55
tent, and is protracted from that circumstance chiefly,
it is to be treated as an intermittent, by administering
the cinchona, which in the earlier periods of the disease
is hardly to be admitted.
Class II. NEUROSES.
Order I. COMATA.
Comata, Sauv. Class VI. Ord. II. Sag. Class IX.
Order V.
Soporosi, Lin. Class VI. Ord. II.
Adynamiae, Vog. Class VI.
Nervorum resolutiones, Hojfm. III. 194.
Affectus soporosi, Hoffim. III. 209.
Motuum vitalium delectus, Junck. 114.
Genus XLII. APOPLEXIA.
The Apoplexy.
Apoplexia, Sduv. gem. 182. Lin. 101. Fog. 229.
JBoerh. 1007. Junck. 117. Sag. gen. 288. Wcp-
fer. Hist, apoplecticorum.
Cams, Sauv. gen. 181. Lin. 100. Log. 231.
Roei'h. 1045. Sag. gen. 287.
Cataphora, Sauv. gen. 180. Lin. 99. Log. 232.
Boerh. 1045. Sag. gen. 286.
Coma, Log. 232. Boerh. 1048.
Haemorrhagia cerebri, Hoffm. II. 240.
To this genus also Dr Cullen reckons the following
diseases to belong :
Catalepsis, Sauv. gen. 176. Lin. 129. Log. 230.
Sag. gen. 281. Boerh. 1036. Junck. 44.
Alfectus cerebri spasmodico-ecstaticus, Hoffm. III.
44. <
Ecstasis, Sauv. gen. 177. Log. 333. Sag. gen. 283.
The following he reckons symptomatic :
Typhomania, Sauv. gen. 178. Un. 97. Log. 23.
Sag. gen. 284.
Lethargus, Sauv. gen. 179. Lin. 98. Log. 22.
Sag. gen. 285.
on with a distortion of the mouth towards the sound side, .
a drawing of the tongue the same way, and stammering
of the speech. Dissections sometimes show a rupture of
some vessels of the meninges, or even vessels of the brain
itself', though sometimes, if we may believe Dr Willis,
no defect is to be observed either in the cerebrum or ce¬
rebellum.
Causes, &c. The general cause of a sanguineous
apoplexy is a plethoric habit of body, with a determi¬
nation to the head. The disease therefore may be
brought on by whatever violently urges on the circula¬
tion of the blood ) such as surfeits, intoxication, violent
passions of the mind, immoderate exercise, &c. It
takes place, however, for the most part, when the ve¬
nous plethora has subsisted for a considerable time in
the system. For that reason it commonly does not
attack people till past the age of 60 and that whe¬
ther the patients are corpulent'and have a short neck,
or whether they are of a lean habit of body. Till peo¬
ple be past the age of childhood, apoplexy never hap¬
pens.
Prognosis. This disease very often kills at its first
attack, and few survive a repetition of the fit; so
that those who make mention of people who have sur¬
vived several attacks of the apoplexy, have probably
mistaken the epilepsy for this disease. In no disease
is the prognosis more fatal ; since those who seem to
be recovering from a fit, are frequently and suddenly
carried off by its return, without either warning of its
approach or possibility of preventing it. The good
signs are when the disease apparently wears off, and
the patient evidently begins to recover} the bad
ones are when all the symptoms continue and in¬
crease.
Cure. The great object to be aimed at, is to restore
the connection between the sentient and corporeal parts
of the system 5 and when interruption to this con¬
nexion proceeds from compression in the brain by
blood, this is to be attempted, in the first place, by
large and repeated bleedings 5 after which, the same
remedies are to be used as in the serous apoplexy, af¬
ter mentioned. The body is to be kept in a somewhat
erect posture, and the head supported, in that skua*
tion.
This disease appears under modifications so vari¬
ous, as to require some observations with respect to
each.
Sp, I. The Sanguineous Apoplexy.
Description. In this disease the patients fall sud¬
denly down, and are deprived of all sense and voluntary
motion, but without convulsions. A giddiness of the
bead, noise in the ears, coruscations before the eyes,
and redness of the face, usually precede. The distin¬
guishing symptom of the disease is a deep sleep, attend¬
ed with violent snorting ; if any thing be put into the
mouth, it is returned through the nose j nor can any
thing be swallowed without shutting the nostrils 5 and
even when this is done, the person is in the utmost dan¬
ger of suffocation. Sometimes apoplectic patients will
open, their eyes after having taken a large dose of an.
emetic 5 but if they show no sign of sense, there is not
the least hope of their recovery. Sometimes the apo¬
plexy terminates iu a hemiplegia j in which case it comes
Sp. II. The Serous Apoplexy.
Apoplexia pituitosa, Sauv. sp. 7. Apoplexia serosa,
Preysinger. sp. 4. Morg. de causis, &c. IV. LX.
Carus a hydrocephalo, Sauv. sp. 16.
Cataphora hydrocephalica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Cataphora somnolenta, Sauv. sp. 1.
Lcthargus literatorum, Sauv. 7. Lan Swieten in
Aphor. 1010. 2y and 3 «.
Description. In this species the pulse is weak, the
face pale, and there is a diminution of the natural heat.
On dissection, the ventricles of the brain are found
to contain a larger quantity of fluid than they
ought; the other symptoms are the same as in the
former.
Causes, &c. This may arise from any thing which
induces a debilitated state of the body, such as de¬
pressing passions of the mind, much study, watching,
&c. It may also be brought on by a too plentiful
use of diluting, acidulated drinks. It doth not, how-
tver,
pi Dtice.
ever, follow, that the extravasated serum above men-
^ 'ata'' tioned in the ventricles of the brain is always the cause
of the disease, since the animal fluids are very frequently
observed to ooze out in plenty through the coats of the
containing vessels after death, though no extravasation
took place during life.
Prognosis. This species is equally fatal with the
other j and what hath been said of the prognosis of
the sanguineous, may also be said of that of the serous
apoplexy.
Cure. In this species venesection can scarcely be
admitted: acrid purgatives, emetics, and stimulating
clysters, are recommended to carry off the superabun¬
dant serum j but in bodies already debilitated, they
may perhaps be liable to the same exceptions with ve¬
nesection itself. Volatile salts, cephalic elixirs, and cor¬
dials, are also prescribed j and in case of a hemiplegia
supervening, the cure is to be attempted by aperient
ptisans, cathartics, and sudorifics } gentle exercise, as
riding in a carriage; with blisters and such stimulating
medicines as are in general had recourse to in affec¬
tions originally of the paralytic kind.
,.8 Sp. III. Hydrocephalic Apoplexy, or Dropsy of the
Prain.
Hydrocephalus interior, Sauv. sp. I.
Hydrocephalus internus, WhytCs works, page 725.
London Med. Obs. vol. iv. art. 3, 6, and 25.
Gaudelius de hydrocephalo, apud Sandifort The-
saur. vol. ii.
Hydrocephalus acutus, Quin. Diss. de hydrocephalo,
177?‘
Asthenia a hydrocephalo, Sauv. sp. 3.
History and description. This disease has been accu¬
rately treated within these few years by several emi¬
nent physicians, particularly the late Dr Whytt, Dr
Tothergill, and Dr Watson ; who concur in opinion,
with respect to the seat of the complaint, the most of
its symptoms, and its general fatality. Out of twenty
patients that had fallen under Dr Whytt’s observa¬
tion, he candidly owns that he had been so unfortunate
as to cure only one who laboured under the character¬
istic symptoms of the hydrocephalus ; and he suspects
that those wrho imagine they have been more success¬
ful, had mistaken another distemper for this. It is by
all supposed to consist in a dropsy of the ventricles ol
the brain ; and this opinion is fully established by dis¬
sections. It is observed to happen more commonly to
healthy, active, lively children, than to those of a dii-
ferent disposition.
Dr Whytt supposes that the commencement of this
disease is obscure j that it is generally some-months
in forming; and that, after some obvious urgent symp¬
toms rendering assistance necessary, it continues some
weeks before its fatal termination. This, in general,
differs from what has hitherto been observed by Dr
lothergillj the latter informing us, that he has seen
children, who, from all appeai’ance, were healthy and
active, seized with this distemper, and carried oil in
about 14 days. He has seldom been able to trace the
commencement of it above three weeks.
Though the hydrocephalus be most incident to chil¬
dren, it has been sometimes observed in adults ) as ap-
373
pears from a case related by Dr Huck, and from some Apoplexia.
others. < —
When the disease appears under its most common
form, the symptoms at different periods are so various
as to lead Dr Whytt to divide the disease into three
stages, which are chiefly marked by changes occurring-
in the condition of the pulse. At the beginning it is
quicker than natural} afterwards it becomes uncom¬
monly slow} and towards the conclusion of the disease
it becomes again quicker than natural, but at the same
time often very irregular.
Those who are seized wuth this distemper usually
complain first of a pain in some part below the head j
most commonly about the nape of the neck and
shoulders ; often in the legs j and sometimes, but more
rax-ely, in the arms. The pain is not uniformly acute,
nor always fixed to one place 5 and sometimes does
not affect the limbs. In the latter case, the head and
stomach have been found to be most disordered $ so
that when the pain occupied the limbs, the sickness or
headach was less considerable ’, and when the head
became the seat of the complaint, the pain in the limbs
was seldom or never mentioned. Some had very vio¬
lent sicknesses and violent headachs alternately. From
being perfectly well and sportive, some were in a few
hours seized with those pains in the limbs, or with
sickness, or headach, in a slight degree, commonly af¬
ter dinner; but some were observed to droop a few
days before they complained of any local indisposition.
In this manner they continued three, four, or five
days, more or less, as the children were healthy and
vigorous. They then commonly complain of an acute
deep-seated pain in the head, extending across the
forehead from temple to temple; of which, and a sick¬
ness, they alternately complain in short and affecting
exclamations j dosing a little in the intervals, breath¬
ing irregularly, and sighing much while awake. Some¬
times their sighs, for the space of a few minutes, are
incessant.
As the disease advances, the pulse becomes slower
and irregular, the strokes being made both with une¬
qual force and in unequal times, till within a day or
two of the fatal termination of the disorder, when ib
becomes exceeding quick j the breathing being at the
same time deep, irregular, and laborious. After the
first attack, which is often attended with feverish heats,
especially towards evening, the heat of the body is for
the most part temperate, till at last it keepi pace with
the increasing quickness of the pulse. The head and
praecordia are always hot from the first attack. 1 he
sleeps are short and disturbed, sometimes interrupted by
watchfulness j besides which there are startings.
In the first stage of the disease there seems to be a
peculiar sensibility of the eyes, as appears from the in¬
tolerance of light. But in the progress of the dis¬
ease a very opposite state occurs : rl he pupil is re¬
markably dilated, and cannot be made to contract by
the action even of strong light j such, for example, as
by bringing a candle very near to it. In many cases
there is reason to believe that total blindness occurs .
Often also the pupil of one eye is more dilated than
that of another, and the power of moving the eyes is
also morbidlv affected. Those children, who were ne¬
ver observed to squint before, often become affected.
willy.
M E T3 I C I N E.
J74 MED!
Comata. with a very great degree of strabismus. The patients
  /—1 are unwilling to be disturbed for any purpose, and can
bear no posture but that of lying horizontally. One
or both hands are most commonly about their heads.
The urine and stools come away insensibly. At length
the eyelids become paralytic, great heat accompanied
with sweat overspreads the whole body, respiration is
rendered totally suspicious, the pulse increases in its
trembling undulations beyond the possibility of count¬
ing, till the vital motions entirely cease j and sometimes
convulsions conclude the scene.
Many of the symptoms above enumerated are so com¬
mon to worm cases, teething, and other irritating causes,
that it is difficult to fix upon any which particularly
characterize this disease at its commencement. The
most peculiar seem to be the pains in the limbs, with
sickness and incessant headach j which, though frequent
in other diseases of children, are neither so uniformly
nor so constantly attendant as in this. Another cir¬
cumstance observed to be familiar, if not peculiar to
this distemper, is, that the patients are not only costive,
hut it is likewise with the greatest difficulty that stools
can be procured. These are generally of a very dark
greenish colour with an oiliness or a glassy bile, rather
than the slime which accompanies worms j and they
are, for the most part, extremely offensive. No positive
conclusion can be drawn from the appearance of the
urine; it being various, in different subjects, both in its
colour and contents, according to the quantity of liquor
they drank, and the time between the discharges of the
urine. From their unwillingness to be moved, they
often retain their water 12 or 15 hours, and some¬
times longer. In complaints arising from worms, and
in dentition, convulsions are more frequent than in
this disorder. Children subject to fits are sometimes
seized with them a few days before they die. Some¬
times these continue 24 hours incessantly, and till they
• expire.
Causes. The causes of internal hydrocephalus are
very much unknown. Some suppose it to proceed from
a rupture of some of the lymphatic vessels of the brain.
But this supposition is so far from being confirmed by
any anatomical observation, that even the existence of
such vessels in the brain is not clearly demonstrated.
That lymphatics, however, do exist in the brain, cannot
be doubted } and one of the most probable causes giving
rise to an accumulation of water in the brain is a dimi¬
nished action of these. Here, however, as well as in
other places, accumulation may also be the consequence
of augmented effusion 5 and in this way, an inflamma-
tory disposition, as some have supposed, may give rise
to the affection. But from whatever cause an accumu¬
lation of water in the ventx-icles of the brain be produ¬
ced, there can be no doubt that from this the principal
symptoms of the disease, arise, and that a cure is to be
accomplished only by the removal of it. It is, however,
probable, that the symptoms are somewhat varied by the
position of the water, and that the affection of vision in
particular is often the consequence of some morbid state
about the thalaminervorum opticorum; at least, in many
cases, large collections of water in the ventricles have
occurred, without either strabismus, intolerance of light,
or dilatation of the pupil. And in cases where these
symptoms have taken place to a remarkable degree,
while upon dissection after death but a very small col-
CINE. _ Prank-. <
lection of water Was found in the ventricles, it has been . , ,
observed, that a peculiar tumid appearance was dis-uL^ f
covered about the optic nerves, which upon examina¬
tion was found to arise from water in the cellular tex¬
ture. This may have given compression producing a
state of insensibility 5 but it may have been preceded,
or it may even have originated from some inflammatory
affection of these parts, producing the intolerance of
light.
Prognosis and Cure. Till very lately this disorder
Was reckoned totally incurable ; but of late it has been
alleged, that mercury, if applied in time, will remove
every symptom. This remedy was first suggested by
Dr Dobson of Liverpool, and afterwards employed ap¬
parently with success by Dr Percival, Dr Makie, and
others. But the practice has by no means been found
to be generally successful. In a great majority of in¬
stances, after mercury has had the fairest trial, the
disorder has proved fatal. And it is a very remarkable
circumstance, that in this disease, after great quantities
of mercury have been used both externally and inter¬
nally, it rarely affects the mouth. But even in cases
where salivation has been induced, a fatal conclusion
has yet ensued.
Of late the digitalis purpurea has been thought, in
some cases of hydrocephalus, as well as in other obsti¬
nate dropsies, to be employed with benefit. But this
also, in the hands of most practitioners, has very gene¬
rally failed. Perhaps there is no remedy from which
benefit has more frequently been observed than from
blisters. But we may conclude with observing, that
the cure of the apoplexia hydrocephalica still remains
to be discovered.
Sp. IV. Apoplexy from Atrabilis. -
Apoplexia atrabiliaris, Sauv. sp. 12. Preysinger.
sp. 6.
This takes place in the last stage of the diffusion of
bile through the system, i. e. of the black jaundice j
and in some cases the brain has been found quite
tinged brown. It cannot be thought to admit of any
cure.
Sp. V. Apoplexy /rom External Violence. ^
Apoplexia traumatica, Sauv. sp. 2»
Carus traumaticus, Sauv. sp. 5.
The treatment of this disease, as it arises from some
external injury, properly falls under the article Sur¬
gery.
Sp. VI. Apoplexy from Poisons.
Apoplexia temulenta, Sauv. sp. 3.
Carus a narcoticis, Sauv. sp. 14.
Lethargus a narcoticis, Sauv. sp. 3.
Carus h plumbagine, Sauv. sp. 10.
Apoplexia mephitica, Sauv. sp. 14.
Asphyxia a mephitide, Sauv. sp. 9.
Asphyxia d musto, Sauv. sp. 3.
Catalepsis h fumo, Sauv. sp. 3.
Asphyxia a fumis, Sauv. sp. 2.
Asphyxia a carbone, Sauv. sp. 16.
Asphyxia foricariorum, Sauv. sp. II.
Asphyxia sideratorum, Sauv. sp. 10.
Carus ab insolatione, Sauv. sp. 12.
- Caros
pr: tice.
Co ta.
Cams & frlgore, Sauv. sp. 15.
Letliargus a frigore, Sauv. sp. 6.
Asphyxia congelatorum, Sauv. sp. 5.
MEDICINE.
The poisons which bring on an apoplexy when taken
internally may be either of the stimulant or sedative
kind, as spirituous liquors, opium, and the more virulent
kinds of vegetable poisons. The vapours of mercury,
or of lead, in great quantity, will sometimes produce a
similar effect; though commonly they produce rather
a paralysis, and operate slowly. The vapours of char¬
coal, or fixed air, in any form, breathed in great quan¬
tity, also produce an apoplexy, or a state very similar to
it j and even cold itself produces a fatal sleep, though
without the apoplectic stertor. To enumerate all the
difterent symptoms which affect the unhappy persons
who have swallowed opium, or any of the stronger ve¬
getable narcotics, is impossible, as they are scarcely to
be found the same in any two patients. The state in¬
duced by them seems to differ somewhat from that of a
true apoplexy j as it is commonly attended with convul¬
sions, but has the particular distinguishing sign of apo¬
plexy, namely, a very difficult breathing or snorting,
more or less violent according to the quantity of poison¬
ous matter swallowed.
Of the poisonous effects of fixed air, Dr Percival
gives the following account. “ All these noxious va¬
pours, whether arising from burning charcoal, the fer¬
menting grape, the Grotti di Cani, or the cavern of
Pyrmont, operate nearly in the same manner. When
accumulated and confined, their effects are often in¬
stantaneous : they immediately destroy the action of the
brain and nerves, and in a moment arrest the vital mo¬
tions. When more diffused, their effects are slower,
but still evidently mark out a direct affection of the
nervous system.
“ Those who are exposed to the vapours of the fer¬
menting grape, are as instantly destroyed as they
would be by the strongest electrical shock. A state of
insensibility is the immediate effect upon those animals
which are thrust into the Grotti di Cani, or the ca¬
vern of Pyrmont: the animal is deprived of motion,
lies as if dead 5 and if not quickly returned into the
fresh air, is irrecoverable. And if we attend to the
histories of those who have suffered from the vapours
of burning charcoal, we shall in like manner find, that
the brain and moving powers are the parts primarily
affected.
“ A cook who had been accustomed to make use of
lighted charcoal more than his business required, and
to stand with his head over these fires, complained for
a year of very acute pain in the head 5 and after this
Was seized with a paralytic affection of the lower limbs,
and a slow fever.
“ A person was left reading in bed with a pan of
charcoal in a corner of the room. On being visited
early the next morning, he was found with his eyes
shut, his book open and laid on one side, his candle
extinguished, and to appearance like one in a deep
sleep. Stimulants and cupping-glasses gave no relief:
but he was soon recovered by the free access of fresh
air.
“ Four prisoners, in order to make their escape, at¬
tempted to destroy the iron-work of their windows, by
the means of burning charcoal. As soon as they com¬
menced their operation, the fumes of the charcoal be¬
ing confined by the closeness of the prison, one of them '
was struck dead j another was found pale, speechless,
and without motion 5 afterwards he spoke incoherently,
was seized with a fever, and died. The other two
were with great difficulty recovered.
“ Two boys went to warm themselves in a stove heated
with charcoal. In the morning they were found desti¬
tute of sense and motion, with countenances as composed
as in a placid sleep. i here were some remains of
pulse, but they died in a short time.
“ A fisherman deposited a large quantity of char¬
coal in a deep cellar. Some time afterwards his son, a
healthy strong man, went down into the cellar with a
pan of burning charcoal and a light in his hand. He
had scarcely descended to the bottom, when his candle
went out. He returned, lighted his candle, and agaiiv
descended. Soon after, he called aloud for assistance.
His mother, brother, and a servant, hasted to give him
relief; but none of them returned. Two others of the
village shared the same fate. It was then determined
to throw large quantities of water into the cellar;
and after two or three days they had access to the
dead bodies.
“ Coelius Aurelianus says, that those who are inju¬
red by the fumes of charcoal become cataleptic. And
Hoffman enumerates a train of symptoms, which in no
respect correspond with his idea of suffocation. Those
who suffer from the fumes of burning charcoal, says he,
have severe pains in the head, great debility, faintness,
stupor, and lethargy.
“ It appears from the above histories and observa¬
tions, that these vapours exert their noxious effects on
the hrain and nerves. Sometimes they occasion sud¬
den death: at other times, the various symptoms of a
debilitated nervous system, according as the poison is
more or less concentrated. The olfactory nerves are
first and principally affected, and the brain and ner¬
vous system by sympathy or consent of parts. It is
well known, that there is a strong and ready consent
between the olfactory nerves and many other parts of
the nervous system. The effluvia of flowers and per¬
fumes, in delicate or irritable habits, produce a train
of symptoms, which, though transient, are analogous
to those which are produced by the vapours of char¬
coal ; viz. vertigo, sickness, faintness, and sometimes a
total insensibility. The female malefactor, whom Dr
Mead inoculated by putting into the nostrils dossils of
cotton impregnated with variolous matter, was imme¬
diately on the introduction, afflicted with an excrucia-.
ting headach, and had a constant fever till after the
eruption.
“ The vapours of burning charcoal, and other poi¬
sonous effluvia, frequently produce their prejudicial, and
even fatal effects, without being either offensive to the
smell or oppressive to the lungs. It is a matter of im¬
portance, therefore, that the common opinion should be
more agreeable to truth 5 for where suffocation is sup¬
posed to be the effect, there will be little apprehension
of danger, so long as the breast keeps free from pain
or oppression.
“ It may be well to remember, that the poison it¬
self is distinct from that gross matter which is offensive
to the smell j and that this is frequently in its most
active statt when undistinguished by the sense. Were
the
575
Apoplexia.
——Y-—
tlie following cautions generally attended to, they
might in some instances he the happy means of preser¬
ving life. Never to be confined with burning charcoal
in a small room, or where there is not a free draught
-of air by a chimney or some other way. Never to
venture into any place in which air has been long pent
up, or which from other circumstances ought to be
suspected; unless such suspected place be either pre¬
viously well ventilated, or put to the test ol the light¬
ed candle: for it is a singular and well-known fact,
that the life of flame is in some circumstances sooner
aftected and more expeditiously extinguished by noxi¬
ous vapours than animal-lile ; a proof of which I re¬
member to have received from a very intelligent cler¬
gyman, who was present at a musical entertainment in
the theatre at Oxford. The theatre was crowded ; and
during the entertainment the candles were observed to
burn dim, and some of them went out. The audience
complained only of faintness and languor; but had the
animal effluvia been still further accumulated or longer
confined, they would have been extinguished as well as
the candles.
“ The most obvious, effectual, and expeditious means
of relief to those who have unhappily suffered from
this cause, are such as will dislodge and wash away the
poison, restore the energy of the brain and nerves, and
renew the vital motions. Let the patient therefore be
immediately carried into the open air, and let the air
be fanned backwards and forwards to assist its action ;
let cold water he thrown on the face; let the face,
mouth, and nostrils, be repeatedly washed; and as soon
-as practicable, get the patient to drink some cold wa¬
ter. But if the ease be too far gone to be thus relie¬
ved, let a healthy person breathe into the mouth of
the patient; and gently force air into the mouth, throat,
and nostrils. Frictions, cupping, bleeding, and blisters,
are likewise indicated. And if, after the instant danger
is removed, a fever be excited, the method of cure must
he adapted to the nature and prevailing symptoms of
the fever.”
With regard to the poison of opium, Dr Mead re¬
commends the following method of cure. Besides eva¬
cuations by vomiting, bleeding, and blistering, acid
.medicines and lixivial salts are pi’oper. These contract
the relaxed fibres, and by their diuretic force make a
depletion of the vessels. Dr Mead says he lias given
repeated doses of a mixture of salt of wormwood and
juice of lemons, with extraordinary success. But no¬
thing perhaps is of greater consequence, than to use
proper means for the prevention of sleep, by rousing
and stirring the patient, and by forcing him to walk
about; for if he he once permitted to fall into a sound
sleep, it will be found altogether impossible to awake
him.
Of a kind somewhat akin to the poison of opium
seems to be that of laurel-water, a simple water distill¬
ed from the leaves of the lauro-cerasus or common
.laurel. The bad effects of this were particularly ob¬
served in Ireland, where it had been customary to mix
it with brandy for the sake of the flavour; and thus
two women were suddenly killed by it. This gave oc¬
casion to some experiments upon dogs, in order to as¬
certain the malignant qualities of the water in question ;
and the event was as follows : All the dogs fell imme¬
diately into totterings and convulsions of the limbs,
4
which W'ere soon followed by a total paralysis, so that
no motion could be excited even by pricking or cutting
them. No inflammation was found upon dissection, in
any of the internal membranes. The most remarkable
thing was a great fulness and distention of the veins, in
which the blood was so fluid, that even the lymph in
its vessels ivas generally found tinged with red. The
same effects were produced by the water injected into
the intestines by way of clyster.
To make the experiment more fully, Dr Nicholls
prepared some of this Avater so strong, that about a
dram of heavy essential oil remained at the bottom
of three pints of it, which by frequent shaking Avas
again quite incorporated Avith it. So virulent Avas this
water, that tAiro ounces of it killed a middle-sized dog
in less than half a minute, even Avhile it Avas passing
doAvn his throat. The poison appeared to reside entire¬
ly in the above-mentioned essential oil, Avhich conies
over by distillation, not only from the leaves of laurel,
but from some other vegetables ; for ten drops of a red
oil distilled from bitter almonds, w’hen mixed Avith half
an ounce of Avater, and given to a dog, killed him in
less than half an hour.
Volatile alkalies are found to be an antidote to this
poison; of which Dr Mead gives the folloAA'ing in¬
stance. About an ounce of strong laurel-Avater was
given to a small dog. Fie fell immediately into the
most violent convulsions, which were soon followed by
a total loss of his limbs. When he seemed to be
expiring, a phial of good spirit of sal ammoniac Avas
held to his nose, and a small quantity of the same
forced doAvn his throat: he instantly felt its virtue; and
by continuing the use of it for some time, he by degrees
recovered the motion of his legs ; and in tAVO hours
Avalked about with tolerable strength, and Avas after¬
wards quite Avell.
With regard to the pernicious effects of cold, there
is no other way of counteracting them but by the ap¬
plication of external heat. We are apt to imagine,
that the SAvalloAving considerable quantities of ardent
spirits may be a means of making us resist the cold,
and preventing the bad effects of it from arising to
such a height as to destroy life; but these do not ap¬
pear to be in the least possessed of any such virtue
in those countries liable to great excesses of cold. I he
cinchona, by strengthening the solids, as Avell as increas¬
ing the motion of the fluids, is found to ansAver better
than any other thing as a preservative : but when the
pernicious effects have already begun to discover them¬
selves, nothing but increasing by some means or other
the heat of the body can possibly be depended upon:
and even this must be attempted with great care; lor
as, in such cases, there is generally a tendency to
mortification in some of the extremities, the sudden ap¬
plication of heat Avill certainly increase this tendency
to such a degree as to destroy the parts. But for the
external treatment of such mortifications, see the article
Surgery.
Sp. VII. Apoplexy from Passions of the Mind.
Cams a pathemate, Sauv. sp. u.
Asphyxia & pathemate, Sauv. sp. 7.
Ecstasis catoche, Sauv. sp. 1.
Ecstasis resoluta, Sauv. sp. 2.
Apoplexies
e, M E D 1
Apoplexies from violent passions may be either san¬
guineous or serous, though more commonly of the for¬
mer than the latter species. The treatment is the same
in either case. Or they may partake of the nature of
catalepsy ; in which case the method of treatment is the
same with that of the genuine catalepsy.
Sp. VIII. The Cataleptic Apoplexy.
Catalepsis, &wi;. gen. 176. Lin. 129. Cog. 230.
Sag. gen. 281. JBoerh. 1036. Junck. 44.
Dr Cullen says he lias never seen the catalepsy ex¬
cept when counterfeited; and is of opinion that many
of those cases related by other authors have also been
counterfeited. It is said to come on suddenly, being
only preceded by some languor of body and mind j
and to return by paroxysms. The patients are said to
be for some minutes, sometimes (though rarely) for
some hours, deprived of their senses, and all power of
voluntary motions 5 but constantly retaining the posi¬
tion in which they were first seized, whether lying or
sitting ; and if the limbs be put into any other pos¬
ture during the fit, they will keep the posture in
which they are placed. When they recover from the
paroxysm, they remember nothing of what passed du¬
ring the time of it, but are like persons awaked out
of sleep.—Concerning the cure of this disorder we find
nothing that can be depended upon among medical
writers.
Sp. IX. Apoplexy from Suffocation.
Asphyxia suspensorum, Sauv. sp. 4.
Asphyxia immersorum, Sauv. sp. 1.
This is the kind of apoplexy which takes place in
those who are hanged or drowned. For the treatment
of those persons, see the articles Drowning and Hang¬
ing.
Besides the species above mentioned, the apoplexy
is a symptom in many other distempers, such as fevers
both continued and intermitting, exanthemata, hysteria,
epilepsy', gout, worms, ischuria, and scurvy.
Genus XLIIL PAIiALTSIS.
The Palsy.
Paralysis, Boerh. 1057.
Hemiplegia, Sauv. gen. 170. Lin. 103. Log. 220.
Paraplexia, Sauv. gen. 171-
Paraplegia, Lin. 102. Log. 227.
Paralysis, Sauv. gen. 169. Lin. 104. log. 226.
Junck. 115. ,
Atonia, Zfrt. 120.
Sp. I. The Partial Palsy.
Paralysis, Sauv. gen. 169. Lin. 104. Log. 226.
Junck. 115.
Paralysis plethorica, Sauv. sp. 1,
Paralysis serosa, Sauv. sp. 12.
Paralysis nervea, Sauv. sp. 11.
Mutitas a glossolysi, Sauv. sp. 1.
Aphonia paralytica, Sauv. sp. 8.
Vol. XIII. Part I.
CINE. 37;
Sp. II. Hemiplegia, or Palsy of one side of the Body. ,
Hemiplegia,-Soz/r. gen. 170. Lin. 108. Log. 228. 267
Sag. gen. 276.
Hemiplegia ex apoplexia, Sauv. sp. 7.
Hemiplegia spasmodica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Hemiplegia serosa, Sauv. sp. 10.
Sp, III. Paraplegia, or Palsy of one half cf the 268
Body taken transversely.
Paraplexia, Sauv. gen. 171. Sag. gen. 277.
Paraplegia, Lin. 102. Log. 227.
Paraplexia sanguinea, Sauv. sp. 2.
Paraplexia a spina bifida, Sauv. sp. 3.
Paraplexia rheumatica, Sauv. sp. 1.
Description. The palsy under all the different forms
here mentioned as particular species, shows itself by a
sudden loss of tone and vital power in a certain part of
the body. In the slighter degrees of the disease, it only
affects a particular muscle, as the sphincter of the anus
or bladder, thus occasioning an involuntary discharge
of excrements or of urine ) of the muscles of the tongue,
which occasions stammering, or loss of speech ; of the
muscles of the larynx, by which the patient becomes
unable to swallow solids, and sometimes even liquids
also.—In the higher degrees of the disease, the paraly¬
tic affection is diffused over a whole limb, as the foot,
leg, hand, or arm 5 and sometimes it affects a whole
side of the body, in which case it is called hemiplegia ;
and sometimes, which is the most violent case, it affects
all the parts below the waist, or even below the head,
though this last be exceedingly rare. In these violent
cases, the speech is either very much impeded, or to¬
tally lost. Convulsions often take place in the sound
side, with the cynic spasm or involuntary laughter,,and
other distortions of the face. Sometimes the whole
paralytic part of the body becomes livid, or even mor¬
tifies before the patient’s death ; and sometimes the pa¬
ralytic parts gradually decay and shrivel up, so as to be¬
come much less than before. Whether the disease be
more or less extended, many different varieties may be
observed in its form. Sometimes there occurs a total
loss of sense while motion is entire ; in others a total
loss of motion with very slight or even no affection of
sense j and in some cases, while a total loss of motion
takes place in one side, a total loss of sense has been ob¬
served on the other. This depends entirely on the par¬
ticular nerves or branches of nerves in which the affec¬
tion is situated j loss of sense depending on an affection
of the subcutaneous nerves } and loss of motion on an
affection of those leading to the muscles.
Causes, &c. Palsies most commonly supervene upon
the different species of coma, especially the apoplexy.
They are also occasioned by any debilitating power
applied to the body, especially by excesses in venery.
Sometimes they are a kind of crisis to other distempers,
as the colic of Poictou, and the apoplexy. The hemi¬
plegia especially often follows the last-mentioned disease.
Aged people, and those who are by any other means
debilitated, are subject to palsy ; which will sometimes
also affect even infants, from the repulsion of exanthema¬
ta of various kinds. Palsies are also the infallible con¬
sequences of injuries to the large nerves.
3 B Prognosis
f
37 8
MEDICINE.
Practii
Comata.
Prognosis. Except in the slighter cases of palsy, we
' have little room to hope for a cure ; however, death
does not immediately follow even the most severe pa¬
ralytic atfections. In hemiplegia it is not uncommon
to see the patients live several years} and even in
the paraplegia, if death do not ensue within two or
three weeks, it may not take place for a considerable
time. It is a promising sign when the patient feels a
slight degree of painful itchiness in the affected parts }
and if a fever should arise, it bids fair to cure the pal¬
sy. When the sense of feeling remains, there is much
more room to hope for a cure than where it is gone, as
well as the power of motion. But when we observe
the flesh to waste, and the skin to appear withered
and dry, we may look upon the disease to be incu¬
rable. Convulsions supervening on ft. palsy are a fatal
sign.
Cu?'c. Many remedies have been recommended in
palsies: but it must be confessed, that, except in the
slighter cases, medicines seldom prove effectual; and
before any plan of cure can be laid down, every cir¬
cumstance relative to the patient’s habit of body and
previous state of health should be carefully weighed.
[£ hemiplegia or paraplegia should come on after an
apoplexy, attended with those circumstances which
physicians have supposed to denote a viscid state of the
blood, a course of the attenuant gums, with fixed al¬
kaline salts, and chalybeate waters, may do service ;
to which it will be proper to add frictions with the vo¬
latile liniment down the spine: but in habits where the
blood is rather inclined to the watery state, it will be
necessary to give emetics from time to time 3 to apply
blisters, and insert issues.
The natural hot baths ai-e often found useful in pa¬
ralytic cases 3 and where the patients cannot avail
themselves of these, an artificial bath may be trued by
dissolving salt of steel in water, and impregnating the
water with fixed air. Frictions of the parts, and
scourging them with nettles, have also been recom¬
mended, and may do service, as well as volatile and
stimulating medicines taken inwardly. And it is pro¬
bably by operating in this manner, that the use of
camphor, or a mercurial course continued for some
length of time to such a degree as gently to affect the
mouth, have been found productive of a cure in obsti¬
nate cases of this affection. Of late years, an infusion
of the arnica montana or German leopard’s bane, has
been highly extolled in the cure of this disease, by some
foreign writers : but the trials made with it in Britain,
particularly at Edinburgh, have been by no means
equally successful with those related by Dr Collins, who
has strongly recommended this medicine to the atten¬
tion of the public. Another remedy has of late been
highly extolled in palsy, the rhus toxicodendron or
poison oak. It has been employed with some success
in France by M. Fresnoi 3 and Dr Alderson of Hull,
in a late dissertation on this plant, has published several
cases, even of very obstinate palsy, in which its use was
attended with wonderful success. In some cases also
at Edinburgh, it has been used with apparent advan¬
tage, but in a much greater number without any be¬
nefit.
In certain cases of palsy, unexpected cures have been
accomplished both by electricity and by galvanism.
But in a considerable majority of instances, palsy from
2
which the patient has not what may be called a natu- s
ral recovery, will be found incurable by any remedies ^
which have hitherto been recommended.
Sp. IV. The Palsy from Poiso?is.
Paralysis metallariorum, Sauv. sp. 22.
Hemiplegia saturnina, Sauv. sp. 14.
This kind of palsy arises most frequently from lead
taken into the body, and is a consequence of the co-
lica pictonum, under which it is more. particularly
treated.
TREMOR, or Trembling.
Tremor, Sauv. gen. 129. Lin. 139. Fog-. 184,
Sag. 236.
This by Dr Cullen is reckoned to be always sympto¬
matic either of palsy, asthenia, or convulsions 3 and
therefore need not be treated of by itself.
Order II. ADYNAMIvE. v
A dynamise, Pog. Class VI.
Defectivi, Lin. Class VI. Order I.
Eeipopsychiae, Sauv. Class VI. Order IV* Sag,
Class IX. Order IV.
Genus XLIV. SYNCOPE.
Fainting.
Syncope, Sauv. gen. 174. Sag. 94.
Sag. 280. Junck. 119.
Leipothymia, Sauv. gen. 173. Lin. 93.
Sag. 279.
Asphyxia, Sauv. gen. 175. Lin. 95.
Sag. 281.
Vog. 274.
Vog. 273.
Vog. 275.
9
Virium lapsus et animi deliquia, Hoffm. III. 267.
Sp. I. The Cardiac Syncope.
Syncope plethorica, Sauv. sp. 5. Senac. Tr. de Coeur,
P- 540*.
Svncope a cardiogmo, Sauv. sp. 7. Senac. de Coeur,
414. Morgagn. de Sed. XXV. 2. 3. 10.
Syncope a polypo', Sauv. sp. 8. Senac. p. 471*
Syncope ab hydrochardia, Sauv. sp. 12. Senac. 533*
Sciii'eiber Almag. L. III. § 196.
Syncope Lan^oni, Sauv. sp. 18. Lanzon. Op. II.
p. 462.
Asphyxia Valsalviana, Sauv. sp. 13.
Sp. II. Occasional Syncope.
Leipothymia a pathemate, Sauv. sp. 1. Senac. p. 544.
Syncope pathetica, Sauv. sp. 21.
Asphyxia a pathemate, Sauv. sp. 7.
Syncope ab antipathia, Sauv. sp. 9. Senac. p. 544’
Syncope a veneno, Sauv. sp. 10. Senac. p. 546.
Syncope ab apostematis, Sauv. sp. 11. Senac. p. 544*
Syncope a sphacelo, Sauv. sp. 14. Senac. p. 553*
Syncope ab inanitione, Sauv. sp. 1. Senac. p. j3^'
Syncope a phlebotomia, Sauv. sp. 4.
Syncope a cblore, Sauv. sp. 2. Senac. sp. 583.
Asphyxia
[ce. M E D I
,Bi Asphyxia traumatica, 8auv. sp. 14.
Li Asphyxia neopliytorum, Sauv. sp. 17.
Description. A syncope begins with a remarkable
anxiety about the heart j after which follows a sudden
extinction, as it were, not only of the animal powers
and actions, but also of the vital powers, so that the
patients are deprived of pulse, sense, and motion, all
at once. In those cases which physicians have distin¬
guished by the name of leipotfojmia, the patient does
not entirely lose his senses, but turns cold and pale ;
and the pulse continues to beat, though weakly ; the
heart also seems to tremble rather than beat 5 and the
respiration is just perceptible. But in the true syn¬
cope or full asphyxia, not the smallest sign of life can
be perceived; the face has a death-like paleness, the
extremities are cold, the eyes shut, or at least troubled }
the mouth sometimes shut, and sometimes gaping wide
open ; the limbs flaccid, and the strength quite gone •,
as soon as they begin to recover, they fetch deep and
heavy sighs.
Causes, &c. Fainting is occasioned most commonly
by profuse evacuations, especially of blood ; but it may
happen also from violent passions of the mind, from
surfeits, excessive pain, &c. People of delicate con¬
stitutions are very subject to it from slight causes; and
sometimes it will arise from affections of the heart and
large vessels not easy to be understood. Fainting is al¬
so a symptom of many disorders, especially of that fatal
one called a polypus of the heart, of the plague, and
many putrid diseases.
Prognosis. When fainting happens in the beginning
of any acute distemper, it is by no means a good
omen 5 but when it takes place in the increase or at the
height of the disease, the danger is somewhat less ; but
in general, when fainting comes on without any evi¬
dent cause, it is to be dreaded. In violent haemor-
rhagies it is favourable j as the bleeding vessels thus
have time to contract and recover themselves, and by
this means the patient may escape.
Cure. When persons of a full habit faint through
excess of passion, they ought to be blooded without de¬
lay, and should drink vinegar or lemon juice diluted
with water ; and, after the bowels are emptied by a
clyster, take a paregoric draught, and go to bed.
The passion of anger, in a peculiar manner, affects
the biliary secretion, causes an oppression at the sto¬
mach, with nausea and retching to vomit, and a bitter
taste in the mouth, with giddiness : these symptoms
seem to indicate an emetic 5 which, however, in these
cases must be carefully avoided, as it might endanger
the patient, by bringing on an inflammation of the
stomach.
The general effects of a sudden fright have been
mentioned on a former occasion. When these are so
violent as to require medical aid, our first endeavours
must be to take off the spasmodic constriction, and re¬
store freedom to the circulation j by bleeding, if the
habit be at all inclined to fulness ; and by giving a
mixture, with equal parts of the vinum antimoniale and
tinctura opii camphorata, in some agreeable vehicle,
which will bring on sleep and encourage perspiration.
It was formerly mentioned, that convulsions, or even
an epilepsy, may be brought on by frights j which
CINE.
should make people cautious of playing foolish tricks in I)
this way.
When a surfeit, or any species of saburra, occasions
leipothymia, an emetic is the immediate remedy, as
soon as the patient, by the help of acrid stimulants,
shall be so far roused as to be able to swallow one : in
these cases, tickling the fauces with a feather dipt in
spirit of hartshorn, will be proper, not only to rouse
the patient, but also to bring on vomiting.
A syncope is most commonly brought on by profuse
discharges or evacuations, either of the blood or of the
secreted humours.
In order to revive the patients, they ought to be
laid along in a horizontal posture, in an airy place ;
the legs, thighs, and arms, are to be rubbed with hot
flannels ; very strong vinegar, aromatic vinegar, or salt
of hartshorn, or volatile alkaline spirit, are to be held
to the nostrils, and rubbed into them j or, being pro¬
perly diluted, poured down the throat j cold water is
to be sprinkled on the face and neck ; and when by
these means the patient shall be sufficiently revived,
wine boiled up with some grateful aromatic, is to be
given in the proper quantity.
In the fainting consequent upon profuse uterine hac-
morrhagies, it will be a safer practice to abstain from
all heating and stimulant things j as life, in these
cases, is preserved by the coagulation of the blood in
the extremities of the open vessels } which might be
prevented by the pouring in hot wine or volatile alka¬
line spirits.
When a syncope is the consequence of the too violent
operation of either an emetic or cathartic, the tinctura
thehaica, mixed with spiced wine, is the most efficaci¬
ous remedy j but the opiate must be given gradually,
and in very small doses.
A syncope, or even asphyxia, wherein the patient
shall lie for several hours, is frequent in hysteric consti¬
tutions ; and during the fit require# fetid antispasmo-
dics, together with acrid stimulants: to prevent returns,
nothing answer's better than the cinchona joined with
chalybeates.
Genus XLV. DYSPEPSIA,
Depraved Digestion.
Dyspepsia, Tog. 277.
Apepsia, Vog. 276.
Diaphora, Pog. 278.
Anorexia, Sauv. gen. 162. Lin. 116. Sag. gen. 286.
Cardialgia, Sauv. gen. 202. Lin. 48. Vog. 157.
Sag. gen. 160. v
Gastrodynia, Sauv. gen. 203. Sag. gen. 161.
Soda, Lin. 47. Vog. 161.
Nausea, Sauv. gen. 250. Lin. 182. Tog. 159. Sag.
gen. 185.
Yomitus, Sauv. gen. 251. Lin. 183. Vog. 214.
Sag. gen. 186.
Flatulentia, Sauv. gen. 272. Lrn. 165. Vog. 127.
Sag. gen. 207.
The idiopathic species are,
Anorexia pituitosa, Sauv. sp. 2.
Anorexia a saburra, Sauv. sp. 9.
Anorexia exhaustorum, Sauv. sp. 8.
3 B 2 Anorexia
M E D I
Anorexia paralytica, Sauv. sp. I.
Nausea ex cacochylia, Sauv. sp. II.
Vornitus pituxtosus, Sauv. sp. 26.
Vomitus ruminatio, Sauv. sp. 6.
Vomitus a saburra, Sauv. sp. 2.
Vomitus a crapula, Sauv. sp. 1.
Vomitus lacteus, Sauv. sp. 3.
Flatulentia infantilis, Sauv. sp. 5.
Flatulentia acitla, Sativ. sp. I.
Flatulentia niclrosa, Sauv. sp. 2.
Cardialgia bradypepta, Sauv. sp. 9.
Cardialgia a saburra, Sauv. sp. 2.
Cardialgia lactantium, Sauv. sp. ir.
Cardialgia flatulenta, Sauv. sp. 3.
Cai’dialgia pai'alytica, Sauv. sp. 7-
Gastrodynia saburralis, Sauv. sp. 1.
Gastrodynia flatulenta, Sauv. sp. 2.
Gastrodynia periodynia, Sauv. sp. 7.
Gastrodynia astringens, Sauv. sp. 9.
Gastrodynia atterens, Sauv. sp. 10.
Gastrodynia a frigore, Sauv. sp. 18.
Besides these there are a great number of symptoma¬
tic species.
Description. It is by no means easy to define ex¬
actly the distemper called dyspepsia, when considered
as an original disease, as there are very few maladies
which some way or other do not show themselves by
an affection of tlxe stomach •, and much more difficult
still must it be to enumerate all its symptoms. The
most remarkable, however, and the most common, are
the following: Want of appetite ; distention of the
stomach when no food has been taken for some time
before 5 slight dejection of spirits j a gradual decay of
the muscular strength •, languor, and aversion from mo¬
tion ; the food which is taken without appetite is not
well digested ; the stomach and intestines are much di¬
stended with flatus, whence the patients ai-e tormented
with spasms, gripes, and sickness : frequently a lim¬
pid water, having an acid or putrid taste, is brought
up j sometimes the food itself is thrown up by mouth¬
fuls ; and sometimes, though rarely, the same is swal¬
lowed again, after the manner of ruminating animals.
While matters are in this situation, the heart some¬
times palpitates, and the breath is quick, and drawn
with difficulty ; the head aches and is giddy; and some¬
times both these symptoms are continual, and very
violent, insomuch that the patient is not only torment¬
ed with pain, but staggers as if he was drunk. From
the too great acescency or putrefaction of the aliment
a cardialgia or heartburn comes on ; and in this situa¬
tion a spontaneous diarrhoea sometimes carries off the
disease ; but in other cases there is an obstinate costive¬
ness, attended with colic-pains. Frequently the pulse
is quick, sometimes slow, but always weak : the cir¬
culation is so languid, that the blood can scarce reach
the extreme vessels, or at last stagnates in them, so
that the face becomes livid, swelled and has an un¬
usual appearance : and at the same time that the cir¬
culation and nervous power are in this languid state,
the perspiration becomes less copious ; the skin becomes
dxy and corrugated ; the natural heat, especially of the
extremities, is much diminished ; the tongue is xvhite;
and an universal laxity takes place, insomuch that the
uvula and velum pendulum palati are sometimes en-
C I N E. Practic
larged to such a degree as to become extremely trouble- BySpeps
some. The patient is either deprived of rest, or wakes '—-y!!
suddenly out of his sleep, and is disturbed by frightful
dreams ; at the same time that the mind seems to be
affected as well as the body, and he becomes peevish,
fretful, and incapable of paying attention to any tiling
as usual. At last hectic symptoms come on, and
the whole frame becomes so irritable, that the slightest
cause excites an universal tremor', and sometimes violent
vomiting and diarrhoea. Sometimes the salivary glands
are so relaxed, that a salivation comes on as if excited
by mercury; the serum is poured out into the cavity
of the abdomen and cellular substance of the whole bo¬
dy, and the patient becomes affected with anasarca or
ascites.
Causes, &c. The causes of dyspepsia may be any
thing which debilitates the system in general, but in a
particular manner affects the stomach. Such are, opium
taken in immoderate quantities, which hurts by its se¬
dative and relaxing powers ; spirituous liquors drunk to
excess; tobacco, tea, coffee, or any warm relaxing li¬
quor, taken in too great quantity; acid, unripe fruits;
vomits or purges too frequently taken ; an indolent se¬
dentary life, &c. &c. All these act chiefly upon
people of a weak and delicate habit; for the robust and
hardy seldom labour under a dyspepsia, or at most a
very' slight one.
Prognosis. When a dyspepsia first occurs, it is fre¬
quently removed without great difficulty ; when it is
symptomatic, we must endeavour to cure the primary
disease ; and without this we cannot expect a com¬
plete removal of the affection ; but when it frequently
returns, with symptoms of great debility, hectic fever,,
or dropsy, we have great reason to dread the event.
Cure. A radical cure of dyspepsia is only to be ex¬
pected by removing from the stomach and system that
debility on which the disease depends. On this gi'ound,
the objects chiefly to be aimed at in the cure are,
1st, The avoiding whatever will tend to diminish the
vigour of the stomach ; 2d, The employing such re¬
medies as have influence in increasing that vigour;
and, in the third place, The obviating urgent symp¬
toms, particularly those which tend to increase and
support the affection. Of the avoiding causes, which
tend to diminish the vigour of the stomach, after what
has already been said of the causes inducing the dis¬
ease, it is unnecessary to make any farther observa¬
tions : and indeed every dyspeptic patient will be
taught by experience what is to be done "with this in¬
tention. The medicines chiefly employed with the
view of increasing vigour are those of the tonic kind:
but, pi'evious to their use, it will be necessary to eva¬
cuate the contents of the alipientary canal by vomits ox-
purgatives. If there be a tendency to putrescency, an¬
tiseptics must then be exhibited ; but more frequently
there is a prevailing acidity, which creates an intolera¬
ble heart-burn. To palliate this symptom, magnesia
alba may be given ; which is much preferable to the
common testaceous powders, as being purgative when
dissolved in an acid, while the others are rather astrin¬
gent. In the third volume of the Medical Observations,
we have an account of two cases of dyspepsia attended
with a vei’y uncommon degree of cardialgia, in which
magnesia was so successful, that we can hardly doubt of
its efficacy in slighter degrees of the disorder.
380
Adynamia;.
But
pi* tice.
m;.B Bat although acidity may often be successfully ob-
—J viated in this manner, yet the best way of counter¬
acting this symptom, as well as of obviating costiveness,
flatulence, and a variety of others, is by restoring the
tone of the stomach in particular, ami indeed of the
system in general. With this intention, recourse is had
to a variety of tonics both from the mineral and vege¬
table kingdom *, particularly chalybeates in dilferent
forms, gentian, Colombo, and the like ; but of all the
tonics which can be employed in this affection, none
are attended with greater benefit than exercise and
cold bathing *, and the proper and prudent employment
of these is no less effectual in removing the disease,
than in preventing the return of it after it is once re¬
moved.
6 Genus XLVI. HYPOCHONDRIASIS.
Hypochondriac Affection.
Hypochondriasis, Sauv. gen. 220. Lin. 76. Vog.
218. Sag. 332. _
Morbus hypochondriacus, Boerh. 1098.
Malum hypochondriacum, HoffmAW. 65. Jnnck. 36.
Although some of the nosological writers, particular¬
ly Sauvages, have considered this genus as consisting of
different species, Dr Cullen is of opinion, that there
is only one idiopathic species, the hypochondriasis me-
lancholica. He considers not only the hypochondriasis
hysterica, phthisica, and asthmatica, but also the bili-
osa, sanguinea, and pituitosa, as being only sympto¬
matic ; but he views the true melancholic hypochon¬
driasis as being a proper idiopathic disease, perfectly
distinct from hysteria, with which it has often been
confounded.
Description. The symptoms of hypochondriasis are,
Stretching, pressing, griping, and tormenting pains un¬
der the ribs, and chiefly in the left side 5 which some¬
times are exasperated, and become pungent, burning,
or lancinating. Frequently there is an inflation of the
left hypochondrium, which sometimes becomes station¬
ary, and by Hippocrates was taken for a symptom of
an enlarged spleen. When these symptoms take place
in the right hypochondrium, they are commonly at¬
tended with colic pains, uncertain flying heats, especi¬
ally in the head, with a transient redness of the face,
and very frequently an oedematous swelling of the feet
succeeds. To these are superadded almost all the affec¬
tions of the stomach occurring in dyspepsia, besides a
variety of other symptoms, such as palpitations, sleep¬
less nights, and the like. But besides these, there oc¬
curs also a particular depression of spirit and apprehen¬
sion of danger, which may be considered as one of the
great characteristic symptoms of the disease.
Causes, &c. The general causes of the hypochon¬
driac affection are said to be a plethora, and preterna¬
tural thickness of the blood 5 suppressions of customa¬
ry evacuations ; high and full diet, together with a
sparing quantity of drink *, an hereditary disposition j
indolence 5 atony of the intestines j violent passions of
the mind, &c.
Prognosis. The hypochondriac affection, when left
to itself, is more troublesome than dangerous ; but, if
improperly treated, it may bring on various diseases of
a more fatal tendency, such as the melancholy, bloody
381
urine and nephritis, jaundice, vertigo, palsy, apo- Chlorosis,
plexy, &c. y——*
Cure. This is to be attempted by such medicines as
counteract occasional causes, and obviate urgent symp¬
toms, which may be all comprehended under bleeding,
gentle evacuants, chalybeates, the cinchona, and exer¬
cise, especially riding on horseback, which in this dis¬
ease is greatly preferable to any other. When the cir¬
cumstances of the patient can afford it, a voyage to
Spain, Portugal, or some of the warmer countries in
Europe, will be of great service.
Genus XLVII. CHLOROSIS. 277
Green Sickness.
Chlorosis, Sauv. gen. 309. Lin. 222. Pog. 305.
Sag. gen. 135. Boerh. 1285. Hoffm. iii. 311.
Junck. 86.
Of this genus also Dr Cullen thinks there is but
one idiopathic species : viz. what some distinguish by
the title of chlorosis virginea, others of chlorosis avm-
toria.
Description. This disease usually attacks girls a
little after the time of puberty, and first shows itself
by symptoms of dyspepsia. But a distinguishing symp¬
tom is, that the appetite is entirely vitiated, and the
patient will eat lime, chalk, ashes, salt, &c. very
greedily } while at the same time there is not only a
total inappetence to proper food, but it will even ex¬
cite nausea and vomiting. In the beginning of the
disease, the urine is pale, and afterwards turbid } the
face becomes pale, and then assumes a greenish colour}
sometimes it becomes livid or yellow : the eyes are
sunk, and have a livid circle round them ; the lips
lose their fine red colour ; the pulse is quick, weak,
and low, though the heat is little short of a fever,
but the veins are scarcely filled ; the feet are frequent¬
ly cold, swell at night, and the whole body seems co¬
vered with a soft swelling } the breathing is difficult :
nor is the mind free from affection more than the body 5
it becomes irritated by the slightest causes ; and some¬
times the patients love solitude, become sad and thought¬
ful. There is a retention of the menses throughout
the whole course of the disorder j and at last all the bad
symptoms increasing, a leucophlegmasia, anasarca, atro¬
phy, and death succeed.
Causes. The cause of chlorosis is thought to be an
atony of the muscular fibres of the alimentary canal,
especially of the stomach, joined with a similar atony
of the perspiratory vessels over the whole surface of
the body, and the whole depending on an atony of
those small arteries which pour out the menstrual
blood. This atony may be occasioned by the same
causes which bring on dyspepsia and hypochondriasis,
but very frequently arises from love and other passions
of the mind.
Prognosis. The chlorosis in all cases is tedious,
though it does not generally prove fatal j but we can
never promise a certain cure unless the menses make
their appearance.
Cure. The remedies here in general are the same
as in the dyspepsia and hypochondriasis j only in the
chlorosis stronger purgatives may be made use of:
those which stimulate the rectum are useful by stimu¬
lating
MEDICINE.
3^2
Spasmi. lating also the vessels of the uterus 5 and for this reason
—v—-j indulgence in veneiy has sometimes been said to pro¬
duce a cure, particularly with love-sick maids. Ihe
cold hath is also extremely proper.
Order III. SPASMI.
Spasmi, Sauv. Class IV. Pog'. Class A . &ag'
Class VIII.
Motorii, Lin. Class VII.
Morbi spasmodic! et convulsivi, lloffm. III. 9.
Spasmi et convulsiones, Lunch. 45, 54.
Epilepsia, Bocrh. 1071, 1088.
Genus XLVIII. TETANUS.
2 79
Tetanus, Sauv. gen. 122. Lin. 127. Vog. 180.
Sag. gen. 228.
Catochus, Sauv. gen. 123. Lin. 128. Vog. 183.
Sag. gen. 229.
Opisthotonos, Vog. 1 81.
Episthotonos, Vog. 182.
On this distemper Dr Lionel Chalmers has pub¬
lished a dissertation in the first volume of the Medical
Observations, which being superior to any thing that
- has appeared in other medical writers on the subject,
we shall here lay before the reader.
“ Of all the diseases to which man is subject, none
deserves more to be considered than the opisthotonos
and tetanus, either with regard to the variety of
painful symptoms which almost without intermission
distract the sick, or the danger of the diseases them¬
selves, from which few recover, in comparison of the
number they attack. In both, the vital actions are
very imperfectly performed, most of those which are
called natural being as it were suspended at once 5
and so far is the patient from being able to execute
any voluntary motion, that the whole machine un¬
dergoes the most excruciating distortions, from the
violent and unnatural contractions of the muscles.
Happy it is for the inhabitants of the more temperate
climates, that such diseases appear rarely among them ;
but in those countries which lie in the more southern
and warmer latitudes, they are endemic, especially to
negro slaves. In South Carolina, they show them¬
selves at all seasons, but not so often in winter, more
frequently in spring and autumn ; and are most com¬
mon in the summer, when people work abroad and
are alternately exposed to the scorching heat of the sun
and heavy showers, which often happen suddenly, and
greatly alter the temperature of the air. Others are
seized with the opisthotonos after sleeping without
doors, that they may enjoy the deceitful refreshment
of the cool night-air, when the weather is warm: one
youth chose to cut oft his hair and shave his head cn a
warm day in March, and went to bed without a cap,
but the t weather changed, and became cold in the
night, and he was found rigid with tetanus next
. morning.
“ These diseases so rarely appear as originals in Eu¬
rope, that a good history of them cannot be expected
from the physicians who px-actise in that paid of the
world; nor has any thing like a full description been
given of them by any ancient or modern author
which I have seen. Hippocrates indeed takes notice
Practice.
of them in many places, and seems to regard them Titans
only as consequences of other diseases, or of wounds
or ulcei’S of the nervous or tendinous parts ; of which
symptomatic kind of opisthotonos he gives three re¬
markable cases in lib. v. § vii. de Mori), vidg. and
repeats them in another place: but the few symp¬
toms he recounts do not show themselves with us.
Galen, Coelius Aurelianus, Are tarns, &c. seem only
to have copied Hippocrates, with the addition of
some supposititious symptoms, which i-eally do not
appear ; and the little that llontius says of it is very
faulty.
Among the numerous class of spasmodic diseases,
there are three which distinguish themselves in a very
particular manner, on which the names of empi'ostho-
tonos, opisthotonos, and tetanus, have been justly enough
bestowed, as being expressive of the postui'e into which
they throw and confine the patient. M hen therefore
those muscles which bend the head, neck, and body
forwards, suffer such involuntary, violent, and conti¬
nued contractions, as to fix the chin to the breast, in-
curvate the spine and body, and x*etain the sick in this
painful and prone posture, the disease is called empros-
thotonos. When the posterior muscles are similarly af¬
fected, so that the head is drawn towards the spine,
and the spine itself is recurvated, it has then the name
of opisthotonos; although in fact, in this, all those
mucles which act in deglutition, bend the head for¬
wards, or turn it to either side, are equally contracted
with those which raise the head and spine. The teta¬
nus differs from, or rather is compounded of, both the
others; for in this the patient is found rigid and in¬
flexible, being as it were braced between the opposite
contractions of the anterior and posteiffor muscles; yet
even here the head is much retracted.
“ I never saw the emprost koto nos; and shall only
speak of the opisthotonos and tetanus, the first being by
far the most common, and in the last stage of which
the tetanus frequently intervenes. Let it be observed,
that the following description by no means respects such
symptomatic conti'actions as often happen immediately
before death, both in acute and chronic diseases ; nei¬
ther will it agree with that spurious opisthotonos or te¬
tanus which appear sometimes in the first and second
stages of quotidian intermittents in this country, how¬
ever they may emulate the true diseases in some of their
symptoms.
“ Stad. I. The opisthotonos, contrary to what Bon-
tius assei'ts, often comes on gradually and by slight
approaches, the patient complaining rather of an un¬
easy stiffness in the back part of the neck and about the
shoulders, than of any acute pain, with some degree
of a general lassitude. These increase, and become
so troublesome when he attempts to turn his head, cr
to bend it forward, as to oblige him to wTalk vexy
ei'ect; for he can by no means look downward, nor to
either side, without turning his whole body. He can¬
not open his jaws without pain ; and has some difficul¬
ty in swallowing, which discourages him from attempt¬
ing to eat. At times he feels a sudden and painful trac¬
tion under the cartilago ensiformis, which strikes through
to the back, and instantly increases the rigidity about
the neck and shoulders, draws the head backward a
little, and shuts the jaws closer. The pain under the
sternum returns more frequently and with greater vio¬
lence ;
MEDICINE.
p dice. MED
Jisnai. lence '7 anJ. the othep contractions become so strong,
^ that the head from this time continues much retracted,
and he now refuses nourishment, as swallowing is at¬
tended with great pain, and occasions a return of the
spasm } which extends along the spine quite to the
lower extremities, so that they will no longer support
him, and he is under the necessity of going to bed.
“ In this manner passes over the first stage of the
opisthotonos, which sometimes takes up three or four
days } the patient, as well as those about him, mis¬
taking the first appearances of it for that rheumatic
complaint, which is commonly called a crick in the
neck; but it sometimes forms itself much quicker, and
invades the unfortunate person with the whole train
of its mischievous symptoms in a few hours : in which
case, the danger may truly be estimated from the vio¬
lence of the first attack ; for such generally die in 24,
36, or 48 hours, and very rarely survive the third
day. But when it is less acute, few are lost after the
ninth or eleventh: which number of days it would
not be possible for them to complete, unless the violence
of the disease was in a good measure subdued , although
I had one who recovered, after having been subject to
its tyrannical attacks daily for six weeks. In this stage
the pulse is slow, and very hard, and the belly is hound}
blood taken aw ay seems not to be altered from the na¬
tural state, so that no indication can be deduced there¬
from, and it only vax-ies with regard to laxity or com¬
paction, according to the age of the person and season
«f the year.
“ Stad. II. The spasm under the sternum (which
is the pathognomonic symptom of this disease) becomes
more violent, returning every 10 or 15 minutes j and
never fails to be instantly succeeded by a stronger re¬
traction of the head, with great rigidity and pain all
round the neck, and along the spine to the lower ex¬
tremities, which are suddenly put to the stretch. The
countenance is very pale and contracted ; the jaws are
that moment snapped together, and cannot afterwards
be opened so wide as to receive the end of one’s little
finger, an attempt to do which, by way of experiment,
almost constantly hurries on the spasm. The mastoid,
coraco-hyoid and sterno-hyoid muscles, as well as all the
others concerned in deglutition, and the deltoid and
pectorals, are most violently contracted, so that the
shoulders are strongly raised forward, and the arms
are stretched out or drawn across the body } but the
wrists and fingers seem not to he affected.
“ Such is the condition of the patient in the time
of the spasm, which ceases in a few seconds : after
which the shoulders and arms recline, and the inferior
extremities x’elax j yet not so entirely, hut that such a
degi’ee of rigidity for the most part x'emains as will not
permit them to bend when this is attempted by ano¬
ther person , for as to the sick himself, he cannot at
all move them. The muscles on the sides and fore-
pai’t of the neck continue still contx*acted, although not
so strongly, but their action is ovei’come by the num¬
ber and strength of the postex ior ones *, so that the re¬
traction of the head constantly remains. The patient
bi'eathes quick for some minutes, as if he had been ex¬
cessively exercised j and the pulse is small, fluttering,
and irtegular, but both become more calm and slow.
I'he face is sometimes pale in the intervals, but oftener
flushed 5 and the whole countenance expresses sti'ong
CINE. 383
appearances of the most melancholy distress, as well Tetanus,
because of the dread he has of a return of the spasm, v-"" ■'
which he is sure will soon happen, as from the pain
he suffei-s by the present contractions, and the more
general and sevcx*e ones which he has so lately sustain¬
ed. I he tongue is stiff and torpid 5 but so far as
it can he seen, is not foul. The belly is always bound,
and cannot easily he loosened. In drinking, the liquid
passes with great difficulty to the stomach, even in the
smallest quantity j and it the spasm should seize him
at that time, which an attempt to swallow for the most
pax-t occasions, the liquor x-eturns through the nose with
some force. The patients desire to lie still as much
as possible ; and avoid drinking, speaking, or being
moved, either of which are apt to occasion a return of
the spasm.
“ Stad. III. In this last stage, the patient is re¬
duced to the most calamitous and distressful circum¬
stances : for he is on a continual rack, accoi'ding to
the most literal meaning of that word j the spasm re¬
turning oftener than once in a minute, is much more
violent, and holds him longer, so that he has scarcely
any remission. The anterior muscles of the whole
body now sufl’er equal contractions with the posterior j
hut the last overcome the force of the othei’s, so that
the spine is strongly x-ecurvated, and forms a hollow
arch with the bed, and he rests on the hack part of the
head and the heels. The belly is flat, and is drawn
inward ; and the muscles are so rigidly contracted, that
they will not give way to pressure, and do not seem in
the least to yield to the descent of the diaphragm in
inspiration , the several muscles about the neck, sides,
and abdomen, being plainly distinguishable from each
other. Although the lower extremities are always ri¬
gid in this state, yet are they so suddenly and violently
distended in the time of the spasms, that were it not
for the standei’s by, the patient would he projected
feet foremost off the bed •, while others again ai’e as it
were pushed upwards with such a spring, that the head
is struck with great force against whatever happens
to be in the way, the thighs and legs being in this ease
no less rigid than the other parts. The tongue is
spasmodically darted out, and is often miserably torn,
as the teeth are that moment snapped together; so that
it is necessaxy to prevent this by keeping the handle of
a spoon, wrapped round with soft rags, between the
teeth, when this can be done. At the time that the
tongue is thus thrust out, the muscular flesh, which
lies between the arch of the lower jaw and head of the
trachea, seems to be drawn upwards within the thx-oat.
The countenance is very much contracted, and he is
in a foam of sweat, the heat being very great; and the
pulse between the spasms is exceedingly quick, small,
and irregular, although the heart throbs so stx*ongly,
that its motions may be plainly seen, and a palpita¬
ting suhsultory kind of undulation may not only be
felt, but perceived all over the epigastric region. The
eyes are watery and languid, and a pale or bloody
froth bubbles out from between the lips. The jaws
are for the most part locked fast, so that it is impos¬
sible to give drink or nourishment, nor could he swal¬
low any thing that was put into his mouth. In this state
patients are commonly delirious: and as they cannot
subsist many hoars under so great a suspension of the
vital and natural functions, a mortal anxiety ensues and
releases
releases them; oftencr a continued and severe spasm
finishes the tragedy, when it was before almost at an
end : but most frequently a general convulsion puts a
period to their sufierings } and whichever way this
happens, they for the most part relax just before death.
“ In the tetanus, the general symptoms are nearly
the same as in the opisthotonos, except that from the
first attack, the lateral, abdominal, and other anterior
muscles, are equally contracted with the posterior ones 5
and the arms become rigid as well as the lower extre¬
mities. The abdomen is always flat and rigid as in
the last stage of the opisthotonos, and its contents seem
to be thrust up into the thorax, which at the same
time appears to be much dilated. There are here also
some intervals between the spasms, in the time ol which
the cheeks are drawn towards the ears, so that all the
teeth may be seen as in the spasmus cynicus. Degluti¬
tion is more free in this than in the other disease ; yet
so far is the sick from being equally balanced between
the contractions of the opposite muscles, that the head
is retracted and the spine is recurvated, although not
quite so much as in the opisthotonos. And the spasm,
which commences under the sternum, is likewise com¬
mon to the tetanus, which terminates as the other, and
on the same fatal days. But whoever recovers from
cither, labours long under a general atonia j and they
cannot for some months raise themselves from a supine
or recumbent posture without pain, nor without help
for some time.”
Prognosis and Cure. There has never been any thing
like a crisis observed in these frightful cases, or fa¬
vourable termination from the mere eft'orts of nature $
and therefore all the physician’s dependence must be
upon art. As in cases of tetanic affections, the dis¬
ease often arises from some particular irritation, the
removal of this must necessarily be an important object
in the cure: But where it cannot be removed, benefit
may often be obtained by the prevention of its in¬
fluence being communicated to the brain. When,
however, that influence is communicated to the brain,
a cure is to be expected only by diminishing and ob¬
viating it. This is principally brought about by the
use either of those means which have a general ten¬
dency to diminish action, or of those which induce a
difl’erent state of action. On these grounds the ope¬
ration of those remedies which are employed with
greatest success in this affection, may, we apprehend,
be explained. Fortunately it has been found, that
opium is capable of giving some relief, if administered
in proper time, and if the disease happens not to be
in the most violent degree: the warm bath must also
be brought in aid } and the patients should lie horizon¬
tally in the bath, and while in it have the whole body
extremely well rubbed : when taken out, they are not
to be dried, but immediately be put to bed wrapt in the
softest blankets •, and while they remain there, the belly
ought either to be stuped, or two or three bladders
filled with warm water kept constantly lying on it.
The bowels at the same time must, if possible, be kept
open, by solutions of manna and salpolychrest, or some
other purging salt, mixed with oleum ricini; or if that
should not be at hand, with oil of sweet almonds and
a little tincture of senna. The opiates are to be given
in large and frequently repeated doses ; such as a grain
of the extractum thelaicum, or 20 drops of the tincture,
every second or third hour ; and it will he safest not to
trust to the thebaic tincture which is kept ready pre¬
pared in the shops, but to order the necessary dose of so¬
lid opium, and either give it in pills or dissolve it in
some convenient liquid. If swallowing should be dif¬
ficult, 01 the jaws closed up, the opium must be given
in clysters ; for during the whole course of the disease
it will be of service to order emollient clyster's to be
injected from time to time, since these w ill answer not
only as a relaxing fomentation, but also contribute to
keep the intestinal canal perfectly free.
When the patients recover, they continue for a long
time very relaxed and weak ; and no wonder, since it
is the nature of all spasmodic affections to leave be¬
hind them extreme weakness and relaxation of the mus¬
cular fibres. In order to perfect the recovery, a course
of the cinchona and the Peruvian balsam is to be tried*,
and the spine may be rubbed with spirituous liniments,
or with a mixture of rum and Barbadoes tar : but those
and all other stimulating things, either internally or ex¬
ternally, during the violence of the spasms, must, in the
opinion of some practitioners, be omitted, since all of
them as well as blisters have been alleged to exasperate
the disease.
This, in general, is the plan of treatment recommend¬
ed by Dr Chalmers.
The same dreadful disorders frequently attack young
children in the warm climates. Dr Hillary tells us,
that they will there arise from the same causes which
usually produce convulsions with children in Britain,
viz. from a retention of the meconium or first excrement
after birth ; or from a glutinous matter rvhich is too
often found in the intestines of young children soon
after the other is discharged 5 er from a cheesy mat¬
ter from the coagulation of the milk by an acid in the
stomach ; or from hard excrements 5 or from something
taken in by the mouth which is over acrid, or too hard
to digest, which irritates their tender bowels, and so
produces startings and convulsive spasms, with all the
other symptoms which precede and accompany convul¬
sions in young children in Britain. And this shows
how much more readily and easily the nerves are affected
and irritated in that warm climate, and the tetanus
produced from a much less cause there, than it is in
Britain, where it is but seldom seen. But these causes
not being timely removed, their acrimony is increased,
partly by the heat of the climate, and partly by the
fever which they produce, which still renders them
more acrid, and so increases the irritation of their
bowels, that it first brings on startings, then convul¬
sive spasms, and regular convulsion fits ; which, il not
soon removed, usually end in a perfect tetanus, and the
disease is but seldom cured in such young children when
it arrives at that state : for when the child lies in this
miserable, rigid, immoveable condition, upon moving
its hands or feet in the most gentle manner, or softly
touching any part of its body, or giving it the least
motion, even feeling its pulse in the most tender manner,
or the least noise, or even touching its clothes, will
bring on the convulsive spasms, and cause it to be strong¬
ly convulsed backwards or drawn into a rigid straight
line, strongly extended and immoveable like a statue,
and will so remain immoveable out of either of those
pootures for a considerable time, a minute or two and
when the disease is arrived at this degree, Dr Hillary
thinks
p ctice. M E D I
( smi. thinks it is never cured. But if the physician be called
u ^ in time, before the tetanus has come on (which is too
seldom the case there), though he finds strong convul¬
sive spasms have seized the child, or that it has had a
convulsive fit or two, it may most commonly be reliev¬
ed, the coming of the tetanus be prevented, and the
life of the babe saved, as Dr Hillary has more than
once seen, by removing and carrying off the irritating
cause which stimulates their tender bowels, by such gen¬
tle evacuations as are suitable to their age j and then
quieting and composing the irritation of their nerves by
proper anodynes, and correcting the remaining acrimo¬
ny of the nutritious juices in the primee vice.
To answer these intentions, the following method,
with variations pro re nata et pro ratione cetatis, as the
cause is different, has been found to answer the desired
effect the best: Ijo Seri lactis Jij. Sapon. Venet. 9j.
Manner Calab. 31 j. vel iij. 01. ajnygd. did. 3ss. Ol. foe-
nicult did. gut. []. Bals. Peruv. gut. v. Misc. Fi
enema quam primum injiciendum.
And if the symptoms of the approaching tetanus will
permit, he gives something of the following nature to
assist the operation of the clyster, and to carry off the
acrimony the sooner : Ijo Aq. sent, fotnicidi Jiij. Magnes.
albce 3ss. Ocul. cancr. preep. 3j. Syr. e ciehor. cumrheo,
llosar. solut. ana 5iij. Misce. Or, Ijo Aq. sem. fi&niculi
3iij. Sapon. amygdal. Jss. Magnes. albce 3ss. Syr. e ci-
chor. cum r/ieo. Manner opt. ana £ij. 01. amygd. did.
3iij. Misee: Exhibecochl. parv.vel duo pro ratione cetatis,
omni semihora, vel omni hora, donee respond, alvus.
Two or three stools being obtained by these, the
following is exhibited in order to abate the convulsive
twitchings, and prevent the tetanus from coming on t
I^o Aq. sent, fotniculi'^ii]. Magnes. albce 3ss. Ocul. cancr.
preep. 3j. Moschiorient.gr. iij. Spir. C. C.gut. xv. Syr.
e mecon. 3ss. Misce: Fxhibe cochl.parv. (a child’s spoon¬
ful) ter quaterve de die, vel scepius) urgent, convuls.
vcl spasm.
But if the symptoms shew that the tetanus is more
immediately coming on, so that we have no time to
wait till the operation of the clyster and opening
laxative be over, something of the following nature
must be immediately given j or the tetanus vi\\\ come on,
and most probably prove fatal to such tender babes.
$0 Aq. fccnicul. 3*iij - Moschi orient.gr. ]. Tinet. thebaic-,
gut. iiij. Syr. e meCoiv. 3ij. Misce pro duobus dos. de
quibus exhibe imam quam primum, et alteram si convuU
spasm, redeunt.
This, Dr Hillary observes, may be thought a bold
attempt, to give tinct. thebaica to such a tender young
infant: but it is to be considered that the little pa¬
tient will certainly die if the tetanus seize it, and that
it will come on if this do not prevent it: and he has
known a bold ignorant old midwife give four or five
drops of that tincture to a very young infant with¬
out any prejudice more than its dosing three or four
hours, though not in this case, but in one much less
violent.
The clyster may be given at the same time, and
the opening laxative not long after it j though it may
retard the operation of that for some time, yet it
operates soon after, and gives relief j after which the
other medicines, and fomenting the body and anoint¬
ing it as before, may be used, if the physician finds it
necessary •, also a little of the laxative mixture may be
VOL. XIII. Part I. t
CINE. 385
given once or twice a-day, if the above julep does not Tetanus,
answer the intention of keeping the child’s body open —'v—
for a few days afterwards, which in this case is general¬
ly found necessary to be observed.
1 hese methods and medicines may be varied accord¬
ing to circumstances. For neither the same method nor
the same medicines will answer in all cases, though the
disease be the same \ but they must be changed as the
causes differ, or the constitution of the sick, or the time
of the disease, or as some other circumstances may re¬
quire : which is a thing of great importance, not only
in this, but in the cure of most other diseases.
When proper medicines are thus timely and judici¬
ously given in this case, they seldom fail to carrv off’ the
irritating Cause, quiet and ease the nerves, remove the
convulsions and spasms : and consequently prevent the
tetanus from coming on, and the death of the patient.
But it calling in the physician be deferred till the te¬
tanus has already strongly seized the child, as is too of¬
ten the case here, neither warm bathing, fomenting,
nor any other methods or medicines whatever, will re¬
move it or its causes, nor save the life of the little ten¬
der patient.
Dr Chalmers gives an account of his having cured
one child seized with a tetanus, by purging with ah
infusion of rhubarb : to which a few grains of musk,
and a little ol. tartar, per deliq. were added, together
With the warm bath, and the frequent injection of
clysters made with an infusion of chamomile flowers*
to each of which was added a small portion of Castile
soap. It is much to be regretted, however, that in
those cases where the assistance of the medical art is
most wanted, it most generally fails. We have been
assured by a gentleman who practised for some time in
the warm parts of America, that out of 30 cases of
the tetanus he had seen, not one of the patients reco¬
vered, though he had given opium to the quantity of
20 grains thrice a-day j and others, he was assured, had
taken 30 grains thrice a-day. In the beginning of the
disease, the medicine produced a violent headach j hut
towards the end, it had ho manner of effect whatever.
In tWo patients, the disease came on from the slightest
causes imaginable. The one accidentally fell in at¬
tempting to avoid a loaded cart, and put the heel of
his shoe upon one of his thumbs in rising j the other,
in avoiding the same cart, slightly ruffled the skin of
his nose. Both wei'e seized with the tetanus j and
both died, notwithstanding all possible assistance was
given. The former had his thumb amputated with¬
out effect.
In the Edinburgh Physical and Literary Essays
vol. iii. Dr Donald Monro describes a new method
of cure, communicated to him by a gentleman who
was formerly a practitioner in Jamaica. W hile this
gentleman practised in that island, he had under his
care a great number of cases of tetanus attended with
the locked jaw. At first, he used to give very freely
of opium, musk, and other medicines of this class \
to bleed, and make other evacuations \ while he used
baths, fomentations, embrocations, and other external
applications, but all without the least success 5 and, as
he had lost a great many patients without being so
lucky as to make one cure, he began to believe that
this disorder always proved fatal, and was not to be
cured by medicine, notwithstanding what some prac-
a C titioners*
€>
v? 03
6
^asmi.
M E D I
titionors bad alkged. However, having received an
J unexpected bint concerning the good etlects oi the
mercurial ointment in such cases, he resolved to try
it; and ordered the first patient that offered to be put
into a warm room, and to he rubbed two or three
times a day with the ointment, till such time as a sali¬
vation was raised $ when he with pleasure observed,
that, as soon as the mercury began to affect the mouth,
the convulsions of the muscles of the jaws, as well as
all the other spasms and convulsions, ceased, and the
patient was freed of all his complaints. After this, he
' treated every case ol this kind, which came under Ins
care in the same manner, and cured twelve, which
Were all who applied to him for advice so early in the
disorder that there was time to bring the mercury to
the mouth before the fatal period was expected. A
few died, in whom the disease was so far advanced be¬
fore he saw them that there was no time to raise a sa¬
livation. None of the cases which were under this
gentleman’s care in the West Indies were the conse¬
quences of wounds or capital operations ; nor has he
CINE.
had any opportunity of trying it since m cases of the
locked which sometimes follows capital opera-
. jaw, winch sometimes ioiiows capital opera¬
tions, owing to his having given over practice: hut he
thinks, that from the similarity of the complaint,
there is no doubt that the mercurial frictions would
be equally efficacious in such cases, as when the
disorder comes from catching cold or other such
causes.
In the second volume of the Medical Transactions,
we have an account of a cure performed by Dr Wil¬
liam Carter of Canterbury, by means very different
from any of those above related.—On the 17th of May
1767, the doctor was called to a strong healthy man,
in the 2ist year of his age, and who had been con¬
fined to his bed for three weeks. W hat gave rise to
his present disorder was an wound on the inner ankle of
the right leg, which he had received six weeks before
from a joiner’s chisel. At that time his mouth was
so far closed, as to admit only the most liquid nou¬
rishment, which he constantly sucked through his
teeth : but his legs and jaw, and the whole length
of the spina dorsi, were quite immoveable, being as
stiff and rigid as those of a person long dead ; his
head was drawn backward, and he was frequently
strongly convulsed. The motion indeed of both his
arms was but little impaired. From the beginning
to the end, his sight, hearing, and memory, conti¬
nued perfect j his appetite was good j and his senses,
in the daytime, entire, though sometimes wandering
in the night. As to his pulse, it was regular ; if
it deviated at all from the pulse of a person in health,
it was rather slow than quick, aud somewhat fuller
than natural. Such was the situation of the patient 5
a detail of which had been given before the doctor set
out on his journey, which he undertook with a deter¬
mined resolution to make use of the method recom¬
mended by Dr Silvester, in the first volume of Medical
Observations and Inquiries, published in the year I757>
(and which has been related from Dr Chalmers and Dr
ilillary.) But, on his arrival at the house, he found
great quantities of the extractum thebaievtn dissolved
had been already given him j and that, for the five
fast days, he had taken no less than 28 grains of that
medicine, with 5c grains of musk, in the space of 24
4
* Practice,
hours, without any sensible effect, except the bringing Tetanus.
on a confused sleep, out of which he frequently awoke' 
in great hurries, attended with a violent pain in the
head, which almost deprived him of his senses. r\ he
doctor was afraid to extend the dose j and soon deter¬
mined to take some other method, though at a loss
what method to pursue, as, during a course of almost
30 years practice, nothing of the same kind had e\er
fallen under his cognizance before. Reflecting, how¬
ever, that this disorder had always been deemed of the
spasmodic kind, and that the good effects produced by
the extractum thebaicum must probably be owing to the
relaxing and resolving faculty of that medicine, he
directed a blister to be applied between the shoulders,
the whole length of the spine j the jaw to be anointed
with the oleum lateritium; and a purge consisting of
the tinctura sacra, tinctura jalappcx, and the syrupus
de rhamno cathartico, to be given him. Ibis was repeat¬
ed three several times afterwards, at the distance of
three or four days between each dose. On the inter¬
mediate days, he was ordered the oleum succini, the
fetid gum, and the oleum amygdalinum. Of the first
he took 30 drops, of the gum 20 grains, and of the last
four ounces, in 24 hours. By these means, and these
only, the convulsions soon ceased ; and he grew .daily
better and better, till at the end of a fortnight he was
able to walk about his room, and in less than three
wTeeks became in all respects well, some small weakness
in the parts only excepted. rI he jaw was relieved first,
after that the spine, and last of all the legs. A pain
and uneasiness in the places affected, neither of which
he had felt before, were the forerunners of his approach¬
ing amendment.
From all this it seems reasonable to conclude, either
that there is no certain remedy for tetanus in all cases,
or that the medicines which prove effectual in one
constitution will fail in another. rIhus, it is possible,
that in cases where opium proves ineffectual, mercury
may be a remedy •, and, on the contrary, where mercury
fails, opium may be effectual *, and even where both
are ineffectual, the antispasmodics recommended by Dr
Carter may be of use. It is therefore necessary for
physicians to be extremely careful to observe the effects
of the first doses of their remedies : for if the symp¬
toms show not the least appearance of remission after a
large dose of opium, it is improbable that it can be
cured by a repetition of the medicine j and as no time
can be lost with safety, it will then be proper to apply
mercurial ointment, or whatever else may be judged
proper.——In the Edinburgh Medical Commentaries we
have an account of the cold bath being used as a re-
medy, by Dr Thomas Cochrane, at that time physi¬
cian at Nevis. The patient was an East Indian
boy, who had been gored by a cow, and afterwards
exposed to a rainy damp air for some hours. Dr
Cochrane ascribes his cure to the cold bath, which
was applied by dashing the water upon his body.
But as the patient at the same time got laudanum, at
first in the quantity of 200 drops a-day, and afterwards
in still larger doses j and had besides his throat and
shoulders anointed with warm oil of turpentine, was
bled, and had lenient clysters and laxatives 5 it is by
no means easy to say what share the cold bath had m
his cure. Dr Cochrane, however, says he has heard of
some cases being treated successfully by cold water and
cinchona
MEDICINE.
I ictice.
mi cinchona in St Eustatia and St Kitt’s, and in another
u ‘S ' -i letter mentions his having used the cold bath in other
cases of tetanus with success. But since Dr Cochrane’s
publication, a more full and satisfactory account of the
benefit of this practice has been communicated in a pa¬
per published by Dr Wright, in the sixth volume of the
London Medical Observations. Dr Wright gives a
particular account of six cases, in which the best effects
were obtained from dashing cold water upon the patient j
and he observes, that since he first used this method of
cure he never failed in one instance to effect a recov¬
ery, and that in a shorter time than by any other me¬
thod hitherto proposed. This practice has on some oc¬
casions been adopted by practitioners in Britain, although
here the disease is a much less frequent occurrence. It
has particularly been employed with success by Dr
Currie of Liverpool j and we hope that still more ex¬
tensive practice will confirm the benefit to be dex-ived
from it, although not in every instance, yet in many
cases of this affection. We are, however, sorry to say
that we have of late heard of several cases in which it
has been tried in Britain, and which, notwithstanding
the use of it, had a fatal termination.
Very lately a different mode of cure in this affec¬
tion has been recommended by Dr Rush, professor of
medicine in Philadelphia, in a paper entitled Observa¬
tions on the Cause and Cure of Tetanus, published in
the second volume of the Transactions of the Ameri¬
can Philosophical Society. Dr Rush, viewing tetanus
as being a disease occasioned by relaxation, thinks the
medicines indicated to cure it are such only as are cal¬
culated to remove this relaxation, and to restore tone
to the system. On this ground he recommends the li¬
beral use of wine and cinchona •, and tells us, that he has
employed them with success in actual practice. W hen
the disease arises from an wound ot any particular place,
he recommends stimulants to the part affected j such as
dilatation of the wound, and filling it with the oil ol tur¬
pentine. How far this practice will be confirmed by
more extensive experience, we cannot take upon us to
determine. We may only observe, that a very con¬
trary practice has been recommended as highly success¬
ful by some practitioners in Spain, where tetanic affec¬
tions are a very frequent occurrence in consequence of
slight accidents. There gentle emollients are strongly
recommended, particularly immersing the wounded part
in tepid oil for the space ol an hour or so at a time,
and repeating this application at short intervals. By
this mode many cases, after very alarming appearances
had taken place, are said to have been completely and
speedily removed. While the practice is very simple,
it appears at the same time in many respects very ration¬
al, and may perhaps be considered as well deserving a
trial in the first instance.
Among other remedies employed in tetanus it has been
said that the spasms have sometimes been allayed by a
strong electric shock. And in obstinate cases electri¬
city or galvanism certainly well deserve a trial.
Genus XLIX. TRISMUS.
sSo The Locked Jaw.
Trismus, Sauv. gen. 117. Lin. 124. Sag. gen. 223.
Capistrum, Vog. 208.
Sp. I. Trismus Nascentwm.
Locked Jaw in children under two months old.
Trismus nascentium, Sauv. sp. x. Heister Comp.
Med. Pract. cap. xv. § 10. Cleghorn on the Dis¬
eases of Minorca, Introd. p. 33. Hofer. in Act.
Helvet. tom. i. p. 65.
This distemper is so closely connected with the teta¬
nus, that it ought rather to be accounted a symptom of
the tetanus than a primary disease. And nothing need
now be added to what has been said respecting tetanus.
Sp. II. The Trismus from troujids or Cold.
Trismus traumaticus, Sauv. sp. 2. Land. Med. Obs.
vol. i. art. I, 7. Vol. ii. 34. Vol. iii. 31.
Vol. iv. 7.
Angina spasmodica, Sauv. sp. 18. Zwingen, Act.
Helvet. tom. iii. p. 319.
Convulsio a nervi punctura, Sauv. sp. 2.
Trismus catarrhalis, Sauv. sp. 15. Hillary"1 s Bar-
badoes, 221. Load. Med. Obs. vol. iv. 7.
The internal remedies proper in all cases of the lock¬
ed jaw, from whatever cause it may proceed, have been
already mentioned under Tp:tanus : the external treat¬
ment of wounded parts which may give occasion to it
belongs to the article SuRGERY. But of this also we
have offered some observations under the head of Teta¬
nus *, and, indeed, trismus may be considered as being
merely an incipient tetanus, or rather a slight degree ol
that disease.
Genus L. CONVULSIO.
Convulsions.
Convulsio, Sauv. gen. 128. Lin. 142. Vog. 191.
Sag. gen. 235.
Convulsio universalis, Sauv. sp. r 1.
Hieranosos, Lin. 144. Vog. 190.
Convulsio habitualis, sp. 12.
Convulsio intermittens, Sauv. sp. 16.
Convulsio hemitotonos, sp. 15.
Convulsio abdominis, Sauv. sp. 10.
Convulsio ab inanitione, Sauv. sp. 1.
Convulsio ab onanismo, Sauv. sp. 13.
Scclotyrbe festinans, Sauv. sp. 2.
Description. When convulsions attack only particu¬
lar parts of the body, they are generally attended with
some kind of paralysis at the same time, by which
means the affected parts are alternately convulsed and
relaxed ; a permanent convulsion, or unnatural conti ac¬
tion of particular muscles, is called a spasm or cramp.
These partial convulsions may attack almost any part ol
the body", and are not unfrequently symptomatic, in
levers, the cholera morbus, &c. The involuntary
startings of the tendons, the picking of the bedclothes,
&c. in acute diseases are all of them convulsive disor¬
ders. Convulsions, even when most generally extend¬
ed, differ from epilepsy in not being attended with any
mental affection or abolition of sense, and not followed
by the same torpid state.
Causes. Convulsions, not only of particular parts,
but also over the whole body, often take place from
causes not very evident. Sometimes they seem to de-
3 C 2 pend
387
-'Convulsio.
283
388
Spasms.
2S4
MEDICINE.
Practic
pend on a certain delicacy or irritability of the nervous
system, which is framed with such exquisite sensibility
as to be strongly affected by the slightest causes. Deli¬
cate women are often subject to hysterical convulsions,
and also hyponchondriac people. Convulsions, how¬
ever, often take their rise from wounds, irritations of
the stomach and intestines by worms, poisons, violent
cathartics and emetics, &c. j and very often they are
symptomatic, as in dentition, the smallpox, and many
kinds of fevers.
Prognosis. Except in some few cases, convulsive dis¬
orders are always to be dreaded ; but less in young
people than in such as are advanced in life. Those
which attack girls under the age of puberty, will gene¬
rally cease on the appearance of the menses j and boys
have likewise a chance of being relieved as they ad¬
vance in life : but in grown-up people, unless the cause
he very evident, a cure is hardly to he expected, espe¬
cially after the disease has been of long continuance.
Cure. The treatment is very much the same with
that of epilepsy, afterwards to be considered : but a re¬
covery is most frequently obtained by the removal of
the existing cause.
Genus LI. CHOREA.
St Virus's Dance.
Scelotyrbe, Sauv. gen. 136. Sag. 243.
Chorea, Lin. 139*
Scelotyrbe chorea Viti, Sauv. sp. 1.
Chorea St Viti, Sydenh. Sched. Monit.
Description. This disease shows itself first by a kind
of lameness or instability of one of the legs, which the
patients draw after them in a ridiculous manner: nor
can they hold the arm of the same side still for a mo¬
ment j for if they lay it on their breast, or any other
part of their body, it is immediately forced away by a
convulsive motion. If they be desirous of drinking,
'they use a number of odd gesticulations before they can
bring the cup to their mouths, because their arms are
drawn this way and that by the convulsions which affect
them.
Causes, &c. The general cause of St Vitus’s dance
is a debility of the system j and hence we find it attacks
only weakly boys, and more especially girls, when un¬
der the age of puberty. But the particular causes de¬
termining the muscles to be affected in such and such a
manner are entirely unknown.
Prognosis. As this disorder scarce ever attacks any
persons but such as are under the age of puberty, there
is almost a certain prospect of its being then cured,
though generally the disorder is easily removed before
that time.
Chorea, however, in some instances, proves an ob¬
stinate affection 5 but is hardly in any instance attended
with danger.
Cure. It has hitherto been almost universally the
common practice to treat this disease with antispasmo-
dics and tonics, particularly opium, hyosciamus, vale¬
rian, cinchona, preparations of iron, zinc, and copper,
and cold bathing; and under the use of these the dis¬
ease has, in general, been removed. But Dr James
Hamilton, senior physician to the Royal Infirmary of
Edinburgh, in a treatise which he has lately published
on the use of purgative medicines, has recommended a ga v
very diff erent practice in this disease, the use, viz. of brisk v ai1
cathartics: these he advises to be repeated daily for
some time. The great object, however, which he has
in view, is not to evacuate from the system, but to pro¬
duce a thorough and complete evacuation of the intesti¬
nal canal. He finds, that by the first doses, large quan¬
tities of black-coloured matter are discharged ; and he
recommends that the use of the purgatives should be
persisted in till the stools assume a natural appearance.
In confirmation of the utility of this practice, he has
related several cases in which it produced a speedy and
complete cure ; and equal success has attended this
practice when directed by several others. There can
therefore be no hesitation in recommending it at least in
every obstinate instance of chorea.
Genus LII. RAPHANIA.
Raphania, Lin. 155. Vog. 143. Lin. Amcen. Acad,
vol. vi.
Convulsio raphania, Sauv. sp. 7.
Eclampsia typhodes, Sauv. sp. 1. Sennert. de febr.
1. iv. cap. 16. Gregor. Horst. Oper. tom. ii. 1. viii.
obs. 22. Brunner in Ephem. Germ. D. iii. A. ii.
obs. 224. Willisch. ibid. cent. vii. obs. 13. Wepfer.
de Affect. Capitis, obs. 120. Breslauer Samm-
lung 1717, Julio, Septembri, et Decemhr. ibid.
1723, Januar. A. N. C. vol. vii. ohs. 41. Bruck-
inann. Comb. Norimh. 1743, p. 50.
Description. According to Saovages, this distemper
begins with a lassitude of the limbs, transient colds and
shiverings, pain of the head, and anxieties of the prae-
cordia. Then come on spasmodic startings of the fin¬
gers and feet j also of the tendons and muscles, conspi¬
cuous below the skin. The disease is attended with
heat, fever, delirium, stupor, constriction of the breast,
suffocating dyspnoea, loss of voice, horrid convulsions of
the limbs, preceded by a formication, or sensation as of
ants or other small insects creeping on the parts. In
this state of the disease, the convulsive paroxysms are
attended with most violent pains in the limbs, vomit¬
ing, or diarrhoea, with the passing of worms, thirst, and
in young people an unnatural hunger. It continues
from ten days to three months. About the eleventh or
twentieth day, some are relieved by copious sweats, or
purple exanthemata: while others fall into a tabes, with
stupor, or stiffness of the joints.
Causes, &c. This disease is frequently epidemic in
Suabia and other parts of Germany ; where it is said to
be produced by seeds of radishes, which are often mixed
with rye in that country j and from this supposed cause
the disease takes it name. It is also, however, a very
common opinion, that this, disease depends on the rye
used in diet being of a bad quality, and particularly
containing a large proportion of what is called spurred
rye-
Cure. In this affection, the cure, as far as it has
yet been discovered, is very much the same with that
of epilepsy, the disease next to be considered But
from what has been said of the advantages deri¬
ved from the use of purgatives in chorea, analogy
would lead us to make a trial of them also in cases of
raphania.
Genus
Genus LIII. EPILEPSIA.
Falling-sickness.
Epilepsia, Sauv. gen. 134. Lin. 143. Vog. 188.
Sag. gen. 24. Boa h. 1071. Hoffm. III. y. Junck.
54-
Eclampsia, Sauv. sp. 133. 180. Sag. gen. 240.
Sp. I. The Cerebralis, or Epilepsy depending on an
affection of the Brain.
Epilepsia plethorica, Sauv. sp. 1.
Eclampsia plethorica, Sauv. sp. 7.
Epilepsia cachectica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Sp. II. The SYMPA TillcAy or Sympathetic Epilepsy,
with a sensation of something rising from a certain
part of the body towards the head.
Epilepsia sympathica, Sauv. sp. 8.
Epilepsia pedisymptomatica, Sauv. sp. 6.
Sp. III. The 0 cca signal is, or Epilepsy arising from
various irritating causes.
Epilepsia traumatica, Sauv. sp. 13.
Eclampsia traumatica, Sauv. sp. 9.
Epilepsia a dolore, Sauv. sp. 10.
Epilepsia rachialgica, Sauv. sp. 14.
Eclampsia a doloribus, Sauv. sp. 4.
a, Kachialgica.
b, Ab otalgia.
c, A dentitione.
Eclampsia parturientium, Sauv. sp. 3.
Eclampsia verminosa, Sauv. sp. 2.
Eclampsia ab atropa, Sauv. sp. 11.
Eclampsia ab oenanthe, Sauv. sp. 12.
Eclampsia h cicuta, Sauv. sp. 13.
Eclampsia h coriaria, Sauv. sp. 14.
Epilepsia exanthematica, Sauv. sp. 11.
Epilepsia cachectica, Sauv. sp. 2.
Epilepsia stomachica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Eclampsia a saburra, Sauv. sp. 5.
Epilepsia a pathemate, Sauv. sp. 7.
Eclampsia ab inanitione, Sauv. sp. 8.
Epilepsia neophytorum, Sauv. sp. 15.
Description. The epilepsy often attacks suddenly,
and without giving any warning : but more frequently
is preceded by a pain in the head, lassitude, some di¬
sturbance of the senses, unquiet sleep, unusual dread,
dimness of sight, a noise in the ears, palpitation of the
heart, coldness of the joints j and in some there is a
sensation of formication, or a cold air, See. ascending
from the lower extremities towards the head. In the
fit, the persons fall suddenly to the ground (whence the
name of the falling-sickness), frequently with a violent
cry. The thumbs are shut up close in the palms of
the hands, and are with difficulty taken out j the eyes
are distorted, so that nothing but the whites are to be
seen •, all sensation is suspended, insomuch, that by no
smell, noise, or otherwise, nor even by pinching the
body, can they be brought to themselves; they foam
at the mouth, with a hissing kind of noise } the tongue
is frequently lacerated by the teeth, and there is a vio¬
lent convulsive motion of the arms and legs. Some¬
times, however, the limbs, instead of being agitated by
convulsive motions, are all stiff, and the patients are
as immoveable as a statue. In children, the penis is
erected } and in young men there is an emission of the
semen, and the urine is often thrown out to a consi¬
derable distance. At length there is a remission of
the symptoms, and the patients recover after a longer
or shorter interval j when they complain of a pain, tor¬
por, or heaviness of the head, with a lassitude of all
the joints.
Causes, &c. The dissection of epileptic subjects has
shown a variety of morbid appearances, which may be
supposed to have contributed to the disease ; such as,
indurations in the brain or meninges } caries of the in¬
ternal surface of the cranium 5 projections of the bony
substance of the same, pressing upon the brain j collec¬
tions of serum or purulent; matter, and earthy concre¬
tions within the skull } besides many others which are
recorded by Bonetus, Morgagni, and Lieutaud. But
often the causes are impossible to be discovered j for
even in those who have died of the disease, the brain
and all other parts of the nervous system have been ap¬
parently sound. The disease will attack strong as well
as weak people ; and in those who are subject to it,
any considerable excess in drinking, a surfeit, violent
passion, or venery, &c. will certainly bring on a fit.
Some have epileptic paroxysms returning periodically
after considerable intervals ; and the disease has been
thought to have some dependence on the phases of the
moon.
Prognosis. If the epilepsy comes on before the time
of puberty, there are some hopes of its going off at
that time. But it is a bad sign when it attacks about
the 21st year, and still worse if the fits grow more fre¬
quent j for then the animal functions are often destroy¬
ed, as well as those of the mind, and the patient be¬
comes stupid and foolish. Sometimes it will terminate
in melancholy or madness, and sometimes in a mortal
apoplexy or palsy. It has sometimes, however, been
observed, that epilepsies have been removed by the ap¬
pearance of cutaneous diseases, as the itch, smallpox,
measles, See. While the disease is recent, therefore,
we are not to despair of a cure } but if it be of long
standing, or hereditary, there is very little reason to
expect that it can be removed.
Cure. From the symptoms occurring in epilepsy,
which consists of involuntary convulsive motions, and
an affection of the mental powers, there is reason to
conclude that the fit immediately depends on the in¬
duction of some peculiar action of the brain j but that
convulsions may ensue from this cause, it would seem
necessary that there should also occur a peculiar dis¬
position to action in the moving fibres. On this
ground, then, we may suppose the cure to be chiefly
expected on one of trvo principles j either by our be¬
ing able to prevent the peculiar action of the brain,
or to remove the disposition to action in the moving
fibres. The first is chiefly to be accomplished by the
removal of irritating causes, by preventing their influ¬
ence from being propagated to the brain, when they
are applied to remote parts j or by counteracting their
influence, from inducing in the brain a state of action
different from that to which they give rise. The se¬
cond end is chiefly to be obtained by diminishing
the mobility of the nervous energy, and by strength¬
ening
Epilepsia.
MEDICINE.
ening the tone of the moving fibres. It must, however,
be allowed, that in all convulsive disorders, excepting
those which are cured by nature about the time of
puberty, the cure by artificial means is very difficult.
Numberless specifics have been recommended, but all
of them have failed of answering the expectation.
When the cause can be discovered, that must be remo¬
ved. In other cases, the cold bath, valerian root, castor,
musk, opium, the fetid gums, cinchona, with the whole
tribe of nervous and antispasmodic medicines, have
been recommended : but none of those, or indeed any
'combination of them, have been found generally useful;
though the slighter, or symptomatic cases, may often be
removed by them.
Of late the calx or oxide, improperly called the
Rowers, of iinc, have obtained such reputation in con¬
vulsive disorders as to be received into the Ldinbxirgh
Pharmacopoeia under the title of oxidum %inct. They
were proposed by Dr Gaubius as an antispasmodic, in his
Adversaria; and their efficacy has since been confirmed
by various observations. In an inaugural dissertation
published by Dr Hart at Leyden, the medical virtues
of the flowers of zinc are considered. He observes,
that they have long been used externally, chiefly for in¬
flammations of the eyes from acrid lymph. Glauber
first proposed the internal use of them •, and Gaubius
discovered them to be the remedy of a celebrated
empiric Luddemannus, which he styled his luna fixatet.
After this he exhibited them with success in convulsive
and spasmodic diseases. Dr Hart supposes, that they
act either as absorbents, or as possessing a specific vir¬
tue : but is a strong advocate for their efficacy, on
whatever principles they may operate 5 and, in favour
of his opinion, relates seven cases in which they proved
successful. A girl of 17 years of age was seized ivith
a slight chorea from a fright j and when the disease had
continued six days, she began to take the flowers of
zinc, by which her disorder was removed in less than
three weeks. Her cure required only 16 grains of the
zinc. In a few months the complaints returned, from
the same cause and were removed by four grains of
the medicine divided into 10 doses. A boy of about
four years old, labouring under a real epilepsy, suspect¬
ed to be hereditary, was cured by a grain of the flowers
of zinc taken eveiy day for some time.—A man JO
years old, thrown into convulsions from a violent pas¬
sion, was cured by a grain of the calx taken every two
hours. The disease had gone off upon venesection and
the use of some other remedies ; but returned again in
two weeks, when it rvas finally removed by the zinc.
The two last cases are related from Dr Gaubius, who
affirms that he has used the flowers of zinc in cases of
the chincough, hysteric hiccough, and spasmus cynicus $
that they frequently did more than other medicines, but
were by no means successful in every case. The other
cures mentioned by Dr Hart are similar to those above
mentioned. But it does not appear that he ever saw a
confirmed epilepsy cured by this medicine.
In the first volume of the Edinburgh Medical Com¬
mentaries, we have an account by Mr Benjamin Bell,
of a man afflicted with a confirmed epilepsy, who was
considerably relieved by the flowers of zinc.
In a young man labouring under the epilepsy, in
whom the fits were preceded by an aura epileptica, or
Practi
sensation like air arising from the inside of the knee- F.piie{
joint, the disease was also relieved, but not cured. -y
Dr Percival relates some cases of epilepsy which seem
to have been cured by the flowers of zinc; and in other
cases, where the disease was not entirely removed by it,
the spasms were nevertheless much mitigated. He did
not observe that it promoted any evacuation; excepting
that in some, upon being first taken, it occasioned a
little sickness, which went off with a stool. He adds,
that those apothecaries who do not prepare this medi¬
cine themselves, are in great danger of being imposed
upon, as it is sometimes a mere corrosion of the zinc by
an acid, and even imperfectly washed.
The good effects of the oxide of zinc as an antispas¬
modic are also attested by Dr Haygarth of Chester and
Dr White of York. The former gives a test of their
goodness which may be of use to those who do not
prepare them, namely, that the true flowers of zinc,
when strongly heated, become yellow, but re-assume
their white colour on being allowed to cool. The lat¬
ter gives a case of hieranosos, or strange convulsions of
almost all the muscles of the body, cured by zinc, af¬
ter a number of other remedies had failed. But,
although from these and other respectable authorities,
there can be no doubt that zinc has often been success¬
ful in epilepsy; yet it is equally certain, that in many
others it has had a fair trial, without producing any
benefit.
In Dr Home’s clinical experiments and histories, al¬
so, oxide of zinc is mentioned as having been found ser¬
viceable upon trial in the Koval Infirmary of Edin¬
burgh. Of the other principal remedies which have
been recommended for the epilepsy and other convul¬
sive disorders allied to it, we have the following ac¬
count by the same author.
1. The coid-hath was tried in one who had a convul¬
sive disorder of one side, but the symptoms were ren¬
dered much worse by it.
2. Venesection. Not to be depended on in convul¬
sions.
3. Electricity. In two convulsive cases was of no
service.
4. Epispastics. Do not seem to be powerful anti-
spasmodics.
5. Valerian. In nine convulsive cases, for which
this remedy has been reckoned almost a specific, it not
Cnly made no cure, but could scarcely' be reckoned to
do any good. Dr Home supposes that it acts as a bit¬
ter tonic, something like the serpentaria Virpun-
ana. Though much used at present, he tells us it has
always appeared to him a weak, often a hurtful, me¬
dicine.
6. Musk. Six convulsive patients treated with large
doses of this remedy, were neither cured nor in the least
relieved.
7. Castor seems to be unworthy of the confidence
formerly put in it. It is indeed possessed of a sedative
power, and therefore may be useful in spasmodic fe¬
verish cases.
8. Asafcctida has considerable antispasmodic powers,
but is not always successful. It heats and quickens the
pulse ; and is therefore improper in cases attende
with inflammation. It disagrees with some from a pe¬
culiarity of constitution ; exciting pain in the stomach.
Prac
Spas
l^-y
ce. M E D I
and vomiting : but this can be known only after the ex-
j hibition of the medicine.
g. Cinchona. Of seven spasmodic cases, six were ei¬
ther cured or mitigated. An epilepsy of eight years
standing was very much relieved by taking the bark for
a month, and one of two years standing by taking it
for ten days. But the medicine is of a heating nature,
and therefore is not to be employed in cases attended
with inflammatory symptoms.
io. Peony root was given to two epileptic patients
without the least success.
ix. Viscus querernus, or misletoe, was given in the
quantity of two scruples five times a-day to an epileptic
patient, without success.
12. Extractum hyosciami was given to an epileptic
patient, to one afflicted with the hemitotonos, and to
one who laboured under the hysteric affection, without
the least good efiect.
13. Folia aurantiorum were exhibited with the like
bad success. Five drams of the powdered leaves were
taken at once without any sensible eflect.
14. Cardamine prater sis, in three epileptic cases, was
not attended with any success.
15. Opium did no good.
16. Ammoniarctum cupri made no cure in four cases
of epilepsy in which it xvas tried.
That in many cases all these remedies have been em¬
ployed without success, is not to be denied: and in¬
deed it may with confidence be asserted, that a great
majority of cases of epilepsy are incurable by any re¬
medy that has yet been discovered. At the same time,
as there is incontrovertible evidence that some of them
have succeeded at least in certain cases, the more power¬
ful may always be considered as deserving a fair trial.
The ammoniaretum cupri, in particular, seems well en¬
titled to the attention of practitioners j for though it be
a medicine of great activity, yet under prudent admini¬
stration it may be employed even with very young sub¬
jects without any hazard j and in several inveterate
eases, which had obstinately resisted other medicines, it
has brought about a complete recovery.
Genus LIV. PALPITATIO.
Palpitation of the Heart.
Palpitatio, Sauv. gen. 130. Lin. 132. Fog. 213*
Sag. 237. Hoffm. III. 83. Junck. 33.
The palpitation of the heart is sometimes so violent,
that it may be heard at a considerable distance. It may
proceed from a bad conformation of the heart itself, or
some of the large vessels. It may also be occasioned by
wounds or abscesses in the heart ; or it may proceed
from polypous concretions or ossifications of that viscus,
or from plethora, fear, or spasmodic affections of the
nervous system. When it proceeds from diseases of the
heart or large vessels, it is absolutely incurable. In
spasmodic cases, the remedies above related maybe used.
If the patient be plethoric, bleeding will probably re¬
move the disorder, at least for the present.
Genus LV. ASTHMA.
Asthma, Sauv. gen. 145. Lin. Fog. 268.
Sag. gen. 282.,.
CINE.
Asthma convulsivum, et spasmodico-flatulentum,
Hoffm. III. 94.
Asthma spasticum, Junck. tab. 51.
Sp. I. Spontaneous Asthma.
Asthma humidum, Sauv. sp. 1. Flatulentum, Floyer
on the Asthma, chap. i.
Asthma convulsivum, Sauv. sp. 2. JFillis Pharm.
rat. P. II. sect. i. cap. 12.
Asthma hystericum, Sauv. sp. 3. Floyer on the
Asthma, chap. i.
Asthma stomachicum, Sauv. sp. 8. Floyer, Scheme
of the species of Asthma. Periodic Asthma, 6.
Orthopnoea spasmodica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Orthopnoea hysterica, Sauv. sp. 4.
Sp. II. The E.vanthematic Asthma.
Asthma exanthematicum, Sauv. sp. 11.
Asthma cachedicum, Sauv. sp. 13.
Sp. III. The Plethoric Asthma.
Asthma plethoricum, Sauv. sp. 15.
The asthma is a chronic disease, which may continue^
to give very great distress, at intervals, for a consider¬
able number of years. Sir John Floyer, when he wrote
his celebrated treatise, had laboured under repeated pa¬
roxysms for thirty years.
The common distinction is into humid and dry ; the
former is accompanied with an expectoration of mucus
or purulent matter, but the latter is not. In the ge¬
nuine humoral asthma, the patients are obliged to lean
forward } the inspiration is short and spasmodic j and
the expiration very slow.
Asthmatic persons have generally some warning of
the attack, from a languor, loss of appetite, oppres¬
sion, and swelling of the stomach from flatulence,
which precede the fit *, but it is usually in the middle ,
of the night that the violent difficulty of breathing .
comes on.
The duration of the paroxysm is uncertain, as it will.
sometimes terminate in three or four hours, while at
other times it will continue for as many days •, nay,.
it has been known to last three weeks without inter¬
mission. While it subsists, the patient is in very great
distress, not being able to lie in bed, nor scarcely to
speak or expectorate, so great is the difficulty of
breathing: and yet, notwithstanding all this apparent
interruption to the free passage of the blood through
the lungs, an inflammation here seldom or never su¬
pervenes a fit of the asthma. As the paroxysm wears
off, and the breathing becomes free, there is more or
less of an expectoration of mucus and the urine, from
being pale and limpid, becomes high coloured, and lets*
fall a copious sediment.
In order to obtain relief in the fit, we must some¬
times bleed, unless extreme weakness or old age should
forbid, and repeat it according to, the. degrees of
strength and fulness : a purging clyster, with a solu¬
tion of asafeetida, must be immediately injected 5 and.
if the violence of the symptoms should not speedily a-,
bate, it will be proper to apply a blistering plaster to
the neck or breast. #
In the height of the paroxysm, an emetic might be
followed..:*
;k
M E
followed by dangerous symptoms, as it would increase
tbe accumulation of blood in the vessels of the head j
but vomiting will often prevent a fit of the asthma, es¬
pecially if the stomach should chance to be loaded with
any sort of saburra. A very strong infusion of roasted
coffee has been found to give ease in an asthmatic pa¬
roxysm.
Sir John Pringle says it is the best abater of the pa¬
roxysms of the periodic asthma that he has seen. The
Coffee ought to he of the best Mocco, newly burnt, and
made very strong immediately after grinding it. He
commonly ordered an ounce for one dish; which is to
be repeated fresh after the interval of a quarter or half
an hour; and which is to be taken without milk or su¬
gar. The medicine in general is mentioned by Mus-
grave in his treatise de Arthritide anomala ; but he first
heard of it from a physician in Litchfield, who had
been informed by the old people of that place, that Sir
JohnFloyer, during the latter part of his life, kept free
from, or at least lived easy under, his asthma, from the
use of very strong coffee. This discovery, it seems, he
made after the publication of his book upon that dis¬
ease. Dr Percival says he has frequently directed cof¬
fee in the asthma with great success.
In the intervals of the fit, persons subject to the asth¬
ma, especially the humid species, should take emetics
from time to time. An infusion of tobacco is an eme¬
tic that has been said to be very serviceable in some
asthmatic cases $ but its operation is both so distressing
and so dangerous, that it will never probably be intro¬
duced into common use as an emetic. Smoking or
chewing the same has been known to prevent the fre¬
quency and severity of the paroxysms. Asthmatic pa¬
tients may also use the lac ainmoniaci, with a due pro¬
portion of oxymel scilliticum and vinum antimoniale,
with a view to promote expectoration j or the gum am¬
moniac, and others of similar virtues, may be formed
into pills, and combined with soap* as mentioned for
the dyspncea pituitosa j or a mass may be composed of
asafoetida and balsam of Tolu, with syrup of garlic j
and these pills may be washed down by a medicated
wine, impregnated with squills, horse-radish root, and
mustard seed j or a strong bitter infusion, with a little
antimonial wine.
In some cases crude mercury will be found service¬
able j in others flowers of sulphur, made into an elec¬
tuary with honey or syrup of garlic $ and if, notwith¬
standing the use of these things, a costive habit should
prevail, it will be necessary, from time to time, to give
a few grains of pills of aloes and myrrh, soap and
aloes, or a mass of equal parts of rhubarb, scammony,
and soap.
The dnj or spasmodic asthma, during the extreme
violence of the fit, is best relieved by opiates j and
Sometimes very large doses are required. But in order
to obtain permanent relief, nothing is found to answer
better than ipecacuanha in small doses. Three, five,
eight, or ten grains, according to the strength and con¬
stitution of the patient, given every other day, have
been productive of the happiest effects •, acting some¬
times as an evacuant, pumping up the viscid phlegm j
at others, as an antispasmodic or sedative. Issues are
generally recommended in both species, and will often
be found useful.
Changes of weather are usually felt very sensibly by
3
C 1 h xu. rract
asthmatic people, who in general cannot live with to- Dyspnc
lerable ease in the atmosphere of large cities ; though'-^,
we shall sometimes meet with patients who agree bet¬
ter with this air, which is so replete with gross efflu¬
via of various kinds, than with the purest that can be
found in country situations. And some are found who
breathe with the most ease in a crowded room, with a
fire and candles.
A light diet of meats that are easy of digestion, and
hot flatulent, is requisite for asthmatic people; and the
exercise of riding is often highly serviceable.
When the asthma is found to depend on some other
disease, whether it be the gout or an intermittent fever,
or when it proceeds from the striking in of some cuta¬
neous eruption, regard must always be had to the primary
disease : thus, in the asthma arthritinim, sinapisms to
the feet, or blistering, will be absolutely necessary, in
order, if possible, to bring on a fit of the gout. And
when the dregs of an ague give rise to an asthma, which
is termedfcbriculosuin, and invades at regular intervals,
We must have recourse to the Peruvian bark. The
asthma exanthematiciim will require blisters or issues,
to give vent to the acrid matters which were repelled
from the surface of the body j and courses of sulphureous
waters, goats whey, and sweetening diet drinks, or
perhaps mercurial alteratives, in order to correct the
sharpness of the juices.
Genus LVI. DYSPNOEA} J
Habitual Difficulty of Breathing.
Dyspncea, Saw. gen. 144. Lin. 160. fog. 267.
Sag. 251. Junck. 32.
Sp. I. The Catarrhal Dyspnoea. 20^
Asthma catarrhale, Saw. sp. 16.
Asthma pneumonicum, Willis Pharm. rat. P. II.
sect. i. cap. 12.
Asthma pituitosum, Hoffm. IIL sect. ii. cap. 2.' \ 3*
Asthma pneumodes, Sauv. sp. 17.
This is readily known by the symptoms of pneumo¬
nia and catarrh attending it j and to the removal of
these symptoms the care of the physician must be prin¬
cipally directed.
Sp. II. The Dry Dyspnoea.
Dyspncea h tuberculis, h hydatibus, &c. Sauv. sp. 2,
4> 5»
Orthopncea a lipomate, Sauv. sp. 18.
This is generally accompanied with a phthisis pul-
monalis j but Sauvages mentions one species of phthisis
to which the dry dyspnoea seems more particularly to
belong. The patients fall away by degrees, and have
a great difficulty of breathing, continual thirst, and lit¬
tle or no spitting. When opened after death, their
lungs are found not to be ulcerated, but shrivelled and
contracted as if they had been smoke-dried. Goldsmiths
and chemists are said to be subject to this disease, by
reason of the vapours they draw in with their breath.
Sauvages doth not mention any particular remedy.
Shortness of breath arising from tubercles, as they are
termed, or a scirrhous enlargement of the lymphatic
glands which are dispersed through the lungs, is'com-
pj ctice. MED!
<; smi. nionly found in scrophulous habits, and may be distin-
u> ; guished by the concomitancy of those external swellings
and appearances which particulax-ly mark the scrophula.
This species of dyspnoea generally ends in a phthisis.
Courses of goats whey, and ot sea water, have been
known to do service j but it must be confessed, that a
perfect cure is seldom obtained. Issues are of use in
these cases, as they appear to prevent the ill effects of
over fulness, if it should happen at any time to super¬
vene.
95 Sp. III. Dyspnoea from Changes in the Weather.
{Sanv. sp. 12.)
This seems to be a disease entirely spasmodic, and
the antispasmodics already related are accordingly indi¬
cated.
Sp. IV. The Dyspnoea from Earthy Substances formed
in the Lungs.
Sauvages mentions this disease as much more com¬
mon in brutes than in the human race : but Dr Cullen
mentions his having seen some instances of it; and we
have several accounts by different authors of calculous
matters being coughed up by people labouring under a
dyspnoea, and threatened with consumption. In three
cases of this kind which fell under Dr Cullen’s inspec¬
tion, there was no appearance of earthy or stony con¬
cretions in any other part of the body. The calcareous
matter was coughed up frequently with a little blood,
sometimes with mucus only, and sometimes with pus.
In one of these cases, an exquisite phthisis came on,
and proved mortal: in the other two the symptoms of
phthisis were never fully formed ; and after some time,
merely by a milk diet and avoiding irritation, the pa¬
tients entirely recovered.
Sauvages also greatly recommends milk in these
cases, and soap for dissolving the concretions. The
reason why brutes are more subject to these pulmonary
calculi than mankind, is, that they very seldom cough,
and thus the stagnating mucus or lymph concretes into
a kind of gypseous matter.
297 Sp. . The Watenj D yspnoea.
Dyspnoea pituitosa, Sauv. sp. 1.
Orthopnoea ab hydropneumonia, Sauv. sp. 12.
This may arise from too great a defluxion of mucus
on the lungs, or from an effusion of serum, as is men¬
tioned under the pneumonia. The treatment of the
disease may be gathered from what has been already
said under the heads of Pneumonia, Catarrh, Empye¬
ma, &c.
; 198 Sp. ^ I. The Dyspnoea from Corpulency.
Orthopnoea a pinguedine, Sauv. sp. 6.
There have been many instances of suffocation and
death occasioned by too great corpulency. These fa¬
tal effects, however, may be almost always avoided, if
the persons have resolution to persist in an active and
very temperate course of life 5 avoiding animal food,
much sleep, and using a great deal of exercise. In the
third volume of the Medical Observations, however,
there is an extraordinary instance of internal obesity
S or,. XIII. Part I. *{•
CINE.
which neither showed itself externally, nor could be Pertn^c
removed by any medicines. v—-y-L
Other species of dyspnoea have been considered un¬
der Phthisis. It is frequently symptomatic of diseases
ot the heart and large vessels, or swellings of the abdo¬
men, &c.
Genus LVII. PERTUSSIS.
Chjncough.
4 9$
Pertussis, Sydenham, Ed. Leid. p. 200, 311, 312.
Huxham de acre, ad ann. 1732.
Tussis convulsiva, sive ferina, Hojfm. III. m.
Tussis ferina, Sauv. sp. 10. Sag. sp. 10.
Tussis convulsiva, Sauv. sp. n. Sag. sp. ir.
Amphimerina tussiculosa, Sauv. sp. 13.
Description. This disease comes on at first like a
common cold ; but is from the beginning attended with
a greater degree of dyspnoea than is common in ca¬
tarrh 5 and there is a remarkable affection of the eyes,
as if they were swelled, and a little pushed out of their
sockets. By degrees the fits of coughing become
longer and more violent, till at last they are plainly
convulsive, so that for a considerable time the patient
cannot respire, and when at last he recovers his breath,
inspiration is performed with a shrill kind of noise like
the crowing of a cock. This kind of inspiration
serves only as an introduction to another convulsive fir,
of coughing, which is in like manner followed by an¬
other inspiration of the same kind ; and thus it conti¬
nues for some time, very often till the patient vomit,
which puts an end to the paroxysm at that time.
These paroxysms are attended with a violent determi¬
nation of the blood towards thfe head, so that the ves¬
sels become extremely turgid, and blood not unfre-
quently floxvs from the mouth and nose. The disease
is tedious, and often continues for many months. It is
not commonly attended with fever, unless at the com¬
mencement.
Causes, &c. The chincough is an infectious dis¬
order, and very often epidemic: but the nature of the
contagion is not understood at least it is no farther un¬
derstood than that of smallpox, measles, or similar epi¬
demics. We well know that it is from a peculiar and
specific contagion alone that this disease, as well as the
others above mentioned, can arise. But with regard to
the nature of any of them, we are totally in the dark.
It generally attacks children, or adults of a lax habit,
making its attack frequently in the spring or autumn •,
at the same time, when this contagion is introduced in¬
to any town, village, or neighbourhood, it will rage epi¬
demically at any season. Those alone are aflected with
this disease who had never before been subjected to it.
For in this affection, as well as in smallpox, having had
the disease once, gives defence against future contagion.
Every individual, however, does not seem to be equally
readily affected with this contagion 5 like other con¬
tagious diseases occurring only once in a lifetime, it
may naturally be expected to be more frequent among
children than at any other period of life. But many,
though frequently exposed to contagion, are yet not
affected with the disease : and those children who live
upon unwholesome watery food, or breathe unwhole¬
some air, ax^e most liable to its attack, or at least suffer
3 D most
39+
Spasmi.
M E D I
most from them. In general It has ‘heen concluded,
that whatever weakens the solids, or tends to bring on
a dissolution of the fluids, predisposes to this disease,
and increases its severity.
Prognosis. The chincough is not very often fatal.
During one epidemic, however, it is often observed
to be much more dangerous and more severe than du¬
ring another. This is also remarked with regard even
to particular periods of the same epidemic; and it is
also observed, that on certain families this disease is
much more severe than on others. Its danger, how¬
ever, is still more connected with the period of life
at which it occurs. In children under two years of
age it is most dangerous ; and kills them by producing
convulsions, suffocation, inflammation, and suppura¬
tion of the brain or in the lungs, ruptures, and incur¬
vation of the spine. In pregnant women it will pro¬
duce abortion ; and in adults inflammations of the
lungs, and all the consequences of pneumonia, more
frequently than in children. From a long continuance
of the disease patients will become asthmatic, ricketty,
and scrofulous. It is generally reckoned a good
sign when a fit terminates by vomiting ; for in this
disease there seems to be a great increase of the se¬
cretion of mucus, and the vomiting affords great re¬
lief.
Cure. Pertussis is one of those diseases which, after
the contagion has exerted its influence, can be ter¬
minated only by running a certain course : but it is much
less limited in its course than smallpox and measles, and
often it runs on to a very great length, or at least it is
very difficult to distinguish certain sequelae of this dis¬
ease from the disease itself. And when it exists in the
former of these states, it admits of an artificial termina¬
tion. In the treatment of this affection, therefore, the
objects at which a practitioner chiefly aims, are in the
first place, the obviating urgent symptoms, and for¬
warding the natural termination of the disease ; and se¬
condly, the inducing an artificial termination. With
these intentions various practices are employed on dif¬
ferent occasions. The most approved remedies are vo¬
mits, purges, bleeding, and the attenuating pectorals j
for the other kinds generally do hurt: but large evacu¬
ations of any kind are pernicious. In the Medical
Observations, vol. iii. Dr Morris recommends castor,
and cinchona : but in cases attended with any degree
of inflammation, the latter must certainly do hurt, and
the former will generally be insignificant. Dr Butter,
in a dissertation expressly on the subject, relates 20 cases
of it cured by the extract of hemlock. He directs half
a grain daily for a child under six months old j one
grain for a child from six months tojwo years j after¬
wards allowing half a grain for every year of the
patient’s age till he be 20 : beyond that period, he
directs ten grains to be given for the first day’s con¬
sumption, gradually increasing the dose according to
the effect. If the patient have not two stools daily,
he advises magnesia, or the sulphas pot assee cum sulphurc,
to be added to the hemlock mixture. By this method
he says the peculiar symptoms of the disease are re¬
moved in the space of a week; nothing but a slight
cough remaining’. The use of hemlock, however,
has by no means become universal in consequence of
this publication, nor indeed has this remedy been
CINE.
Practice
found equally successful with others who have given c0lica.
it a fair trial. y~«
The remedy most to be depended upon in this disease
is change of air. The patient, as soon as the disease
is fully formed, ought to be removed to some other part
of the country : but there is no occasion for going to a
distant place; a mile or two, or frequently a smaller
distance, will be sufficient 5 and in thf.s new habitation,
the frequenev of the cough is almost instantly diminish¬
ed to a most surprising degree. After remaining there
for some time, however, the cough will often be ob¬
served to become again more frequent, and the other
symptoms increased. In this case, another change of
air, or even a return to the former habitation, becomes
necessary. Manifest benefit has even been derived by
changing a patient from one room of a house to ano¬
ther. But although change of air has thus been ad¬
vantageous, it must also be remarked, that when it has
been had recourse to at very early periods it has often
done mischief, particularly by aggravating the febrile
and inflammatory symptoms. If the disease be attend¬
ed Avith fever, bleeding and other antiphlogistic reme¬
dies are proper. Dr Buchan recommends an ointment
made of equal parts of garlic and hog’s lard applied to
the soles of the feet; but if it have any effect, it is pro¬
bably merely as an emplastrum calidum. It ought to be
put on a rag and applied like a plaster. Opiates may
sometimes be useful, but in general are to be avoided.
They are chiefly serviceable where the cough is very
frequent, with little expectoration. In these cases be¬
nefit has sometimes also been derived from sulphuric
ether, and sometimes from the tincture of cantharides.
An almost instantaneous termination has on some occa¬
sions been put to this disease by exciting a high degree
of fear, or by inducing another febrile contagion : But
the effects of both are too uncertain and too dangerous
to be employed in practice.
Genus LVIII. PYROSIS. 3«
The Heart-Burn.
Pyrosis, Sauv. gen. 200. Sag. 1 58.
Soda, Lin. 47. Vog. 154.
Scot is, the Water-Brash.
Pvrosis Suecica, Sauv. sp. 4.
Cardialgia sputatoria, Sauv. sp. 5.
This disease, whether considered as primary or symp¬
tomatic, has already been fully treated under Dy¬
spepsia.
Genus LIX. COLICA.
The Colic.
Colica, Sauv. gen. 204. Lin. 50. l og. 160. Sag. 162.
Junck. 106.
Colica spasmodica et flatulenta, Ilcffhi. II. 284.
Rachialgia, Sauv. gen. 211. Sag. 168.
Ileus, Sauv. gen. 252. log. 162. Sag. gen. 187.
Iliaca, Lin. 185.
Dolor et spasmus iliacus, Hoffm. II. 263.
Passio iliaca, Junck. 107.
Sp. I. The Spasmodic Colic.
Colica flatulenta, pituitosa, Sauv. sp. 1. 2. 5. 6. 7*
Ileus
p ctice.
M E D I C I N E.
snii.
Ileus physodes, volvulus inflammatorlus, &c. Ejusd.
sp. i. 3. 5. 7. 8. 9.
Description. The colic is chiefly known hy a vio¬
lent pain in the abdomen, commonly about the umbi¬
lical region. The pain resembles various kinds of
sensations, as of burning, twisting, boring, a ligature
drawn very tight, &c. The belly is generally costive,
though sometimes there is a violent evacuation of bi¬
lious matters upwards and downwards. In these cases
the disease is sometimes accompanied from the begin¬
ning with a weak and intermitting pulse, cold sweats,
and fainting. In some the disease comes on gradual¬
ly, beginning with an habitual costiveness •, and if
purgatives be taken, they do not operate. The pain
comes on generally after a meal, and soon occasions
nausea and vomiting. Sometimes the disease is attend¬
ed with pyrexia, violent thirst, and a full pulse ; the
vomiting becomes more violent, and excrementitious
matters are thrown up with the most exquisite pain and
tension of the abdomen ; and hiccough comes on, which
continues obstinately •, till at last a cessation of pain and
fetid breath indicate a mortification of the intestines
and approaching death. Sometimes the peristaltic mo¬
tion of the intestines is so totally inverted, that all then-
contents are evacuated by the mouth, and even clysters
will be vomited 5 which constitutes that disease com¬
monly called the iliac passion.
Causes, &c. Colics may arise from any sudden
check given to perspiration, as by violent cold applied
to any part of the body, especially to the lower ex¬
tremities and abdomen. Very frequently they are oc¬
casioned hy austere, acid, or indigestible aliments ta¬
ken into the stomach. By any of these, a violent co¬
lic, or indeed an iliac passion, may be occasioned ; for
Dr Cullen justly observes, that this last, though com¬
monly accounted a different species of disease, differs
from colic in no other way than in being in every
respect in a much higher degree. In those who have
died of this disease and been dissected, the intestines
have sometimes been found twisted ; but more c6m-
monly there hath been an introsusccption of the intestine,
that is, one part of the gut seems to have entered
within the other. In the Edinburgh Medical Essays,
vol. iii. we have a dissertation on the use of the warm
bath in the bilious colic, in which the author derives
the disorder from a spasmodic constriction of the intes¬
tine occasioned by the acrimony of the bile. By this,
he says, the intestine is not only contracted into an
unusual narrowness, but the sides of it have been found,
upon dissection, so closely joined, that no passage could
be made downwards more than if they had been
strongly tied hy a ligature. The formation of the m~
trosusceptio he explains hy quoting a passage from
Teyerus, who made the following experiment on a
frog. Having irritated the intestine of the animal in
several different places, he observed it to contract at
those places most violently, and to protrude its contents
upwards and downwards wherever the relaxed state of
the part would permit; bv which means the contents
were heaped together in different parts. Hence some
parts of the intestine being dilated much more than
enough, by reason of the great quantity of matter
thrown into them, formed a kind ot sack which readi¬
ly received the constricted part into it. If this hap¬
pen in the human body, there is the greatest danger
of a mortification 5 because the part which is constric¬
ted, and at any rate disposed to inflammation, has
that disposition vei-y much increased by its confinement
within the other, and by the pressure of the contents
of the alimentary canal from the stomach downwards
upon it. An iliac passion may also arise from the
strangulation of part of the intestine in a hernia} and
even a very small portion of it thus strangulated may
occasion a fatal disease. In the Medical Observations,
vol. iv. however, wre have an account of an iliac pas¬
sion arising from a very different cause, which could
neither have been suspected nor cured by any other w'av
than the operation of gastrotomij, or opening the abdo¬
men of the patient, in order to remove the ca‘use of the
disorder. The patient, a woman of about 28 years of
age, died after suffering extreme torture for six days.
The body being opened, some quantity of a dirty co¬
loured fluid Was found in the cavity of the abdomen.
The jejunum and ileum were greatly distended with air.
A portion of the omentum adhered to the mesentery,
near that part where the ileum terminates in the cae¬
cum. From this adhesion, which w-as close to the spine,
there ran a ligamentous cord or process about two
inches and a half long, unequally thick, in some places
not thicker than a packthread*^ which by its other ex¬
tremity adhered to the coats of the ileum, about two
inches above the caecum. This cord formed a circle
with the mesentery, large enough to admit a hen’s egg
to pass through it. The Cord had formed a noose
(in a manner difficult to be explained^, which included
a doubling of about two inches of the lower end ol the
ileum, and was drawn so tight, that it not only put a
stop to the passage of every thing through the bowels,
and brought on a gangrene of the strangulated part,
hut it had even cut through all the coats of the inte¬
stine on the opposite side to the mesentery, and made
an aperture about an inch long. In the Memoirs of
the Academy of Surgery are mentioned several similar
cases.
Prognosis. The eolic is never to be reckoned void
of danger, as it may unexpectedly terminate in an
inflammation and gangrene of the intestines. I hose
species of it which are attended with purging must he.
considered as much less dangerous than those in which
the vomiting is very violent. The iliac passion, or
that attended with the vomiting of feces, is ahvays
to be accounted highly dangerous •, but if the passage
through the intestines be free, even though their pe¬
ristaltic motion should be inverted, and clysters evacu¬
ated by the mouth, there is much more hope of a cure,
than when the belly is obstinately costive, and there is
some fixed obstruction which seems to bid defiance to
all remedies.
Cure. In the cure of the spasmodic colie, the reco¬
very must ultimately depend on producing a resolution
of the spasmodic affection. In order to accomplish
this, it is in general necessary to evacuate the contents
of the intestines, and to remove rtiorlnd in liability
existing in that part of the system. But in ordei to
preserve the life of the patient from the most immi¬
nent hazard, it is still more necessary to prevent and
remove those inflammatory affections which often oc¬
cur in this disease. As the chief danger in colics arises
from an inflammation and consequent mortification of
3 D 2 the
39
Cohca.
396
Spasm!, tlie intestines, it is essentially necessary, in the first
-v—place, to diminish the tendency to a pyrexia, if there
should happen to he any. This is accomplished hy
bleeding, emollient injections, warm bathing, and cool¬
ing medicines taken inwardly. Dr Porter strongly re¬
commends the warm hath in those colies attended with
violent evacuations of bile. He supposes it to do ser¬
vice by relaxing the constriction of the intestines, and
thus preventing or removing the introsusceptio. In the
mean time opiates may be given to ease the pain, while
every method is tried, by cathartics and glysters of va¬
rious kinds to procure a stool. In obstinate cases,
where stimulating cathartics have proved ineffectual,
the milder kinds, such as manna, senna, oleum ricini,
8tc. will sometimes succeed ; but when every thing of
this kind fails, recourse must be had to some ol the
more extraordinary methods. Some have recommend¬
ed the swallowing of leaden bullets, on a supposition
that by their weight they would force through the ob¬
struction ; but these seem much more likely to create
than to remove an obstruction. It is impossible they
can act by their gravity, because the intestines do not
lie in a straight line from the pylorus to the anus} and
though this were actually the case, we cannot suppose
that the weight of a leaden bullet could prove very effi¬
cacious in removing either a spasmodic constriction or
an obstruction from any other cause. But when we
consider not only that the intestines consist of a great
multitude of folds, but that their peristaltic motion (by
which only the contents are forced through them) is
inverted, the futility of this remedy must be evident.
It might rather be supposed to aggravate the disease 5
as the lead, by its pressure, would tend to fix the in-
trosusception more firmly, or perhaps push it still far¬
ther on. The same thing may be said of quicksilver :
not to mention the pernicious consequences to be appre¬
hended from swallowing large quantities of this mine¬
ral, even if it should prove efficacious in relieving the
patient for the present. There are, however, some late
cases on record, particularly one by Mr William Perry,
published in the sixteenth volume of the Edinburgh
Medical Commentaries, in which the hydrargyrus,
swallowed in great quantities, was attended with the
happiest effects, after every other remedy had been tried
in vain.
Another method has been proposed, in the Medical
Ijissays, for relieving the miserable patients in this disor¬
der, which in many cases has been known to do ser¬
vice. The patient is to be taken out of bed, and made
to walk about on the cold floor of a damp apartment.
At the same time, basons of cold water are to be dashed
on his feet, legs, and thighs ; and this must be conti¬
nued for an hour or longer, if a stool be not procured
before that time, though this will generally be the case
much sooner. The exercise does not at all impair the
patient’s strength, but rather adds to it ; and some very
remarkable instances are adduced in the 6th volume of
the Medical Essays, where this proved effectual after
all other medicines had failed. In one person the
disease had come on with a habitual costiveness, and he
had been for a week tormented with the most violent
pain and vomiting, which could be stopped neither by
anodynes nor any other medicines, the sharpest clysters
being returned unaltered, and all kinds of purgatives
thrown up soon after they were swallowed ; but by the
Practid
above-mentioned method, a stool was procured in 35 Co,ica
minutes, and the patient recovered. In some others --7-.
the costiveness had continued for a much longer time 
Other remedies are, the blowing air into the intestines
by means of a bellows, and the injecting clysters of the
smoke of tobacco. But neither of these seem very ca¬
pable of removing the disease. They can affect only
the parts below the obstruction ; while, to cure the dis¬
ease, it is necessary that the obstructed parts themselves
should be reached by the medicine, and therefore we
have not many well-attested instances of their success. In
some obstinate cases, however, benefit has certainly been
derived from tobacco-smoke injections, and likewise
from injections of tepid water to the extent of several
pounds. For putting in practice these modes of cure,
a particular apparatus has been contrived; and in
cases even apparently desperate, neither should be ne¬
glected. The cold water gives a general and very con¬
siderable shock to the system, checks the perspiration,
and thus drives the humours inward upon the intes¬
tines, by which they receive a much more effectual
stimulus than can be supposed to arise from any kind
of clyster. But when all methods have failed, the
only chance the patient can have for life is by a manual
operation.
In those colics which are attended with faintings,
&c. from the beginning, and which generally attack
hysteric women and other debilitated persons, all kinds
of evacuations are pernicious •, and the cure is to be
attempted by anodynes and cordials, which will seldom
fail of success. Even there also, however, it is neces¬
sary that the belly should be moved •, and for this pur¬
pose injections, containing a solution of asafoetida, which
operate powerfully as antispasmodics, are preferable to
most other modes of cure.
Sp. II. Colica Pictonum. The Colic of Poictou. 30;
Kachialgia Pictonum, Sauv. sp. I.
Bachialgia metallica, Sauv. sp. 3.
Colica Pictonum Citesii.
Another cause to which violent colics are frequent¬
ly to be ascribed, and which often gives occasion to
them where it is very little suspected, is lead, or some
solution or fume of it, received into the body. To
this cause is evidently owing the colics to which plum¬
bers, lead-miners, and smelters of lead are subject. To
the same cause, though not so apparent at first sight, are
we to ascribe the Devonshire colic, w here lead is receiv¬
ed into the body dissolved in cyder, the common drink
of the inhabitants of that country. This has been
proved by experiment 3 for lead has been extracted
from cyder in quantity sufficient to produce pernicious
effects on the human body. The colic of Poictou, and
what is called the dry belly-ach in the West Indies,
are of the same nature: for which reason we give the
folloAving general description of the symptoms of all
these diseases.
The patient is generally first seized with an acute
pain at the pit of the stomach, which extends itself
down with griping pains to the bowels. Soon after
there is a distention, as with wind ; and frequent retch¬
ings to vomit, without bringing up any thing but small
quantities of bile and phlegm. An obstinate costive¬
ness follows, yet sometimes attended with a tenesmus,
MEDICINE.
tice. M L D I
• anti the bowels seem to the patient as if they were
—J drawn up towards the back j at other times they are
drawn into hard lumps, or hard rolls, which are plainly
perceptible to the hand on the belly. Sometimes the coats
of the intestines seem to be drawn up from the anus and
down from the pylorus towards the navel. When a
stool is procured by artificial means, as clysters, &.c.
the feces appear in little hard knots like sheep’s dung,
called scybala, and are in small quantity. There is,
however, usually an obstinate costiveness ; the urine
is discharged in small quantity, frequently with pain
and much difficulty. The pulse is generally low,
though sometimes a little quickened by the violence
of the pain } but inflammatory symptoms very seldom
occur. The extremities are often cold, and sometimes
the violence of the pain causes cold clammy sweats
and fainting. The mind is generally much affected,
and the spirits are sunk. The disease is orten tedious,
especially if improperly treated, insomuch that the pa¬
tients will continue in this miserable state for twenty
or thirty days successively 5 nay, instances have been
known of its continuing for six months. In this case
the pains at last become almost intolerable : the pa¬
tient’s breath acquires a strong fetid smell like excre¬
ments, from a retention of the feces, and an absorp¬
tion of the putrid effluvia from them by the lacteals.
At last, when the pain in the bowels begins to abate,
a pain comes on in the shoulder-joints and adjoining
muscles, with an unusual sensation and tingling along
the spinal marrow. This soon extends itself from
thence to the nerves of the arms and legs, which be¬
come weak ; and that weakness increases till the ex¬
treme parts become paralytic, with a total loss of
motion, though a benumbed sensation often remains.
Sometimes, by a sudden metastasis, the brain becomes
affected, a stupor and delirium come on, and the
nervous system is irritated to such a degree as to pro¬
duce general convulsions, which are frequently followed
by death. At other times, the peristaltic motion of
the intestines is inverted, and a true iliac passion is
produced, which also proves fatal in a short time.
Sometimes the paralytic affection of the extremities
goes off, and the pain of the bowels returns with its
former violence } and on the cessation of the pain in
the intestines, the extremities again become paralytic ;
and thus the pain and palsy will alternate for a very
long time.
Cure. Various methods have been attempted for
removing this terrible disease. The obstinate costive¬
ness which attends it, made physicians at first exhibit
very strong purgatives and stimulating clysters. But
these medicines, by increasing the convulsive spasms of
the intestines, were found to be pernicious. Balsam
of Peru, by its warm aromatic power, was found to
succeed much better ; and Dr Sydenham accordingly
prescribed it in the quantity of 40 di'ops twice or
thrice a-day taken on sugar. This, with gentle pur¬
gatives, opiates, and some drops of the hotter essential
oils, continued to be the medicine commonly employ¬
ed in this disease, till a specific was published by Dr
Lionel Chalmers of South Carolina. This receipt
was purchased by Dr Chalmers from a family where
it had long been kept a secret. The only unusual me¬
dicine in this receipt, and on which the efficacy of
it chiefly if not wholly depends, is sulphate of copper.
CINE. 3g
This must he dissolved in water, In the quantity of Colica.
one grain to an ounce, and the dose of the solution-y—“
is a wine-glassful given fasting for nine successive
mornings. For the first four or five days this me¬
dicine discharges much aeruginous bile both ways j
but the excretions of this humour lessen by degrees j
and before the course be ended, it has little other ef¬
fect than to cause some degree of squeamishness, or
promote a few bilious stools, or perhaps may not move
the patient at all. At the time of using this medicine
the patients should live upon broth made of lean meat,
gruel, or panada : but about the seventh or eighth day,
they may be allowed bread and boiled chicken. Here
the copper seems to do service by its tonic power *, and
for the same reason alum, recommended by Dr Perci-
val, most probably cures the disease. He says he has
found this very efficacious in obstinate affections of the
bowels, and that it generally proves a cure in the
slighter cases of the colica pictonum. It was given to
the quantity of fifteen grains every fourth, fifth, or
sixth hour; and the third dose never failed to mitigate
the pain, and sometimes entirely removed it. Among
purgative medicines the oleum recini is found to he the
most efficacious. Mercury also, particularly under the
form of calomel, has often been employed with success.
And much benefit has been derived from combining
the calomel with opium. From this combination there
is often obtained, in the first instance, an alleviation of
the pain, and afterwards a free discharge by the belly.
Sp. III. The Colic from Costiveness.. 3°4
Colica stercorea, Sattv. sp. 3.
Ileus a flecibus induratis, Sauv. sp. 2.
For the treatment of this species, see above.
Sp. IV. The Accidental Colic.
Colica Japonica,—accidentalis,—lactentium,—h ve-
neno, Sauv. sp. 10. 14. 18. 20.
Cholera sicca auriginosa, a fungis venenatis, ejusd.
sp. 2.
When colics arise from acrid poisonous matter taken
into the stomach, the only cure is either to evacuate
the poison itself by vomiting, or to swallow some other
substance which may decompound it, and thus render
it inactive. The most common and dangerous sub¬
stances of this kind are corrosive mercury and arsenic.
The former is easily decompounded by alkaline salts $
and therefore a solution of lixivial salt, if swallowed
before the poison has time to induce a mortification
of the bowels, wall prove a certain cure. Much more
uncertain, however, is the case when arsenic is sw'allow-
ed, because there is no certain and speedy solvent of
that substance yet known. Milk has been recommend¬
ed as efficacious j and lately a solution of hepar sulphu-
ris. The latter may possibly do service ; as arsenic
unites readily with sulphur, and has its pernicious qua¬
lities more obtunded by that than by any other known
substance : but indeed, even the solvent powers of this
medicine are so weak, that its effects as well as those of
others must be very uncertain.
Some kinds of fungi, when swallowed, are apt to pro¬
duce colics attended "with stupor, delirium, and convul¬
sions } and the same sometimes happens from eating a
large
3S>8
Spasmi.
306
307
?oS
309
M E D I
large quantity of tlie sliell-ficih known by the name of
1 muscles (the Mytilus). Some of the fungi, doubtless,
may have au inherent poisonous quality} but generally
thev as well as the muscles act on a difl’erent principle.
Their pernicious effects happen most commonly when
they are taken on an empty stomach ; and are then sup¬
posed to be occasioned by their adhering so close to its
. coats, that it cannot exert its powers, and the whole
system is thrown into the utmost disorder. 1 he ma¬
lady may therefore be very easily prevented ; but when
once it has taken place, it cannot be removed till ei¬
ther vomiting be excited, or the stomach has recovered
itself in such a manner as to throw oft the adhering
matter. /
Sp. V. Colic of New-born Infants, from a detention of
the Meconium. (Sauv. sp. 19.)
This disorder would he prevented were children al¬
lowed immediately to suck their mothers, whose milk
at first is purgative. But as this is not commonly done,
the child is frequently troubled with colics. These,
however, may be removed by a few grains of ipecacu¬
anha, or a drop or two of antimonial wine. By these
means the stomach is cleansed by vomiting, and the
belly is generally loosened } but if this last eftect does
not happen, some gentle purge will be necessary.
Sp. IV. Colic from a Callositij of the Colon.
It is often impossible to discover this distemper be¬
fore the patient’s death ; and though it should, it does
not admit of a cure.
Sp. VII. The Colic from Intestinal Calculi. fSsuv.
sp. 10. 15.)
When certain indigestible bodies, such as cherry¬
stones, plum-stones, small pieces of bones, &c. are
swallowed, they frequently prove the basis ot calculi,
ormed by an accretion of some kind of earthy matter ;
and being detained in some of the flexures of the intes¬
tines, often occasion very violent colics. These calculi
do not discover themselves by any peculiar symptoms,
nor do they admit of any particular method of cure.
In the Medical Essays wre have an instance of colics
for six years, occasioned by calculi of this kind. The
concretions were at last passed by stool 5 and their pas¬
sage was procured by causing the patient drink a large
quantity of warm water, with a view to promote the
evacuation of bile, a redundancy of which was supposed
to be the cause of her disorder.
Genus LX. CHOLERA, the Cholera Morbus.
Cholera, Sauv. 253. Lin. 186. Vog. no. Sag. 188.
Hoffm. II. 165.
Diarrhoea cholerica, Junck. 112.
Sp. I. The Spontaneous Cholera, coming on without
any manifest cause.
Cholera spontanea, Sauv. sp. 1. Sydenh sect. iv.
cap. 2.
Cholera Indica, Sauv. sp. 7.
CINE. - Pract;
Sp. II. The Accidental Cholera, from acrid matter
taken inwardly.
Cholera crapulosa, Sauv.'sj). 11.
Cholera a venenis, Sauv. sp. 4, 5.
The cholera shows itself by excessive vomiting and
purging of bilious matters, with violent pain, inflation
and distention of the belly. Sometimes the patients
fall into universal convulsions ; and sometimes they
are affected with violent spasms in particular parts of
the body. There is a great thirst, a small and unequal
pulse, cold sweats, fainting, coldness of the extremities,
and hiccough; and dqath frequently ensues in twenty-
four hours.
In this disease, as a great quantity of bile is deposited
in the alimentary canal, particularly in the stomach, the
first object is to counteract its influence, and to promote
an easy discharge of it. It is next necessary to restrain
that increased secretion of bile, by which a fresh depo¬
sition in the alimentary canal would otherwise be soon
produced. And, in the last place, measures must often
be employed to restore a sound condition to the ali¬
mentary canal, which is frequently much weakened by
the violence of the disease.
On these grounds, the cure of this distemper is ef¬
fected by giving the patient a large quantity of warm
water, or very weak broth, in order to cleanse the sto¬
mach of the irritating matter which occasions the
disease, and injecting the same by way of clyster, till
the pains begin to abate a little. x\fter this, a large
dose of laudanum is to be given in some convenient
vehicle, and repeated as there is occasion. But if the
vomiting and purging have continued for a long time
before the physician be called, immediate recourse must
he had to the laudanum, because -the patient will be
•too much exhausted to bear any further evacuations.
Sometimes the propensity to vomit is so strong, that
nothing will be retained, and the laudanum itself
thrown up as soon as swallowed. To settle the sto¬
mach in these cases, Dr Douglas, in the Medical
Essays, recommends a decoction of oat-bread toasted
as brown as cofi'ee ', and the decoction itself ought to
be of the colour of weak coflee. He says he does not
remember that this decoction was ever vomited by any
of his patients. An infusion of mint leaves, or good
simple mint-water is also said to be very efticacious in
the same case.
The tincture of opium is sometimes retained when
given in conjunction with a portion of the sulphuric
acid properly diluted. But when it cannot be retain¬
ed in a fluid form by the aid of any addition, it will
sometimes sit upon the stomach when taken in a solid
state.
After the violence of the disease is overcome, the
alimentary canal, and the stomach in particular, re¬
quires to be braced and strengthened. With this ,view
recourse is often had with advantage to different ve¬
getable bitters, particularly to the use of the Colombo
root; which, while it strengthens the stomach, is also
observed to have a remarkable tendency in allaying
a disposition to vomiting, which often remains for a
considerable time after the cholera may be said to be
overcome.
Genus
Che!e
ce. ' MED
^ Genus LXL DIARRHOEA.
Looseness.
Diarrhoea, Sauv. gen. 253. Lin. 187. log. 105.
Sag. gen. 189. Junck. 112.
Hepatirrhoea, Sauv. gen. 246.
Cliolerica, Lin. 190.
Cceliaca, Sauv. gen. 25$. Lin. log. 109. Sag.
gen. 199.
Lienteria, Sauv. gen. 256. Lin. 188. Sag. gen. 191.
Fog. 108.
Pituitaria, et leucorrhois, Fog. 111. 112.
Sp. I. The Feculent Diarrhoea.
Diarrhoea stercorosa et vulgaris, Sauv. sp. 1. 2.
This is occasioned by too great a quantity of matter
thrown into the alimentary canal ; and what is dis¬
charged has not the appearance of excrements, but is
much whiter, and of'a thinner consistence. Voracious
people who do not sufficiently chew their food, gor¬
mandizers, and even those who stammer in their speech,
are said to be liable to this disease. In slighter cases it
is removed without any medicine, or by a dose of rhu¬
barb; but where the matters have acquired a putrid
taint, the disorder may be much protracted and become
dangerous. In this case lenient and antiseptic purga¬
tives are to be made use of, after which the cure is to
be completed by astringents.
Sp. II. Bilious Diarrhoea.
(Sauv. sp. 8).
This distemper shows itself by copious stools of a very
yellow colour, attended with gripes and heat of the
bowels, thirst, bitterness and dryness of the mouth,
yellowness of the tongue, and frequently follows an in¬
termitting or bilious fever. When the fever is gone,
the diarrhoea is to be removed by acidulated and cool¬
ing drinks, with small doses of nitre.
Sp. III. The Mucous Diarrhoea.
Diarrhoea lactentium, Sauv. sp. 19.
Dysenteria Parisiaca, Sauv. sp. 3.
Diarrhoea ab hypercathai'si, Sauv. sp. 16.
Dysenteria a catharticis, Sauv. sp. 12.
Pituitaria, Fog. in.
Leucorrhois, Fog. 112.
Diarrhoea pituitosa, Sauv. sp. 4.
Coeliaca mucosa, Sauv. sp. 3.
Diarrhoea serosa, Sauv. sp. 10.
a. Diarrhoea urinosa.
*
This kind of diarrhoea, besides the matters usually
excreted, is attended with a copious dejection of the
mucus of the intestines with great pain; while the
patient daily pines awray, but without any fever.—
Persons of all ages are liable to it, and it comes on
usually in the winter-time ; but is so obstinate, that it
will sometimes continue for years. In obstinate loose¬
nesses of this kind, vomits frequently repeated are of
the greatest service. It is also very beneficial to keep
the body warm, and rub the belly with stimulating
ointments; at the same time that astringent clysters,
2
: C I N E.
rhubarb, and stomachic medicines, are to be exhibit¬
ed. Starch clysters are very often efficacious.—Some
kinds of looseness are contagious; and Sir John
I ringle mentions a soldier who laboured under an
obstinate diarrhoea, who infected all those that used
the same privy with himself. In the looseness which
frequently followed a dysentery, the same author tells
us that he began the cure with giving a vomit of ipe¬
cacuanha, alter which he put the patients on a course
of astringents. He used a mixture of three drachms of
extract of logwood, dissolved in an ounce and a half
of spirit of cinnamon, to which was added seven ounces
of common water, and two drachms of tincture of ca¬
techu. Of this the patient took two spoonfuls once in
four or five hours, and sometimes also an opiate at bed¬
time. He recommends the same medicine in obstinate
diarrhoeas of all kinds. A decoction of simarauba bark
was also found effectual, when the dysenteric symptoms
had gone off. Dr Huck, who used this article in
North America, also recommends it in diarrhoeas. Two
or three ounces of the simarauba are to be boiled in a
pound and a half of water to a pound, and the whole
quantity taken throughout the day. He began with
the weakest decoction; and, when the stomach of the
patient could easilyr bear it, lie then ordered the strong¬
est : but at the same time he acknowledges, that, un¬
less the sick found themselves sensibly better within
three days from the time they began the medicine, they
seldom afterwards received any benefit from it. But
when all astringents have failed, Sir John Pringle in¬
forms us, he hath known a cure effected by a milk and
farinaceous diet; and he thinks in all cases the dis¬
order would be much more easily removed, if the pa¬
tients could be prevailed on to abstain entirely from
spirituous liquors and animal food. If the milk by it¬
self should turn sour on the stomach, a third part of
lime-water may be added. In one case he found a pa¬
tient receive more benefit from good butter-milk than
from sweet-milk. The chief drinks are decoctions c£
barley, rice, calcined hartshorn, toast and water, or
milk and water.
Sp. IV. The Coeliac Passion.-
Coslica chylosa, Sauv. sp. 1.
Ccelica lactea, Sauv. sp. 4.
There are very great diflerences among physicians
concerning the nature of this disease. Sauvages says,
from Aretaeus, it is a chronic flux, in which the ali¬
ment is discharged half digested. It is attended with
great pains of the stomach, resembling the prickling
of pins ; rumbling and flatus in the intestines ; white
stools, because deprived of bile, while the patient be¬
comes weak and lean. The disease is tedious, periodi¬
cal, and difficult to be cured. Sauvages adds, that
none of the moderns seem to have observed the disease
properly ; that the excrements indeed are white, on
account of a deficiency of the bile, but the belly is
bound as in the jaundice. Dr Cullen says there is a
dejection of a milky liquid of the nature of chyle;
but this is treated by Vogel as a vulgar error. He
accuses the moderns of copying from Arctaeus, who
mentions white faeces as a symptom of the distemper;
from whence authors have readily fallen into the no¬
tion that they never appeared of any other colour in
persons
medicine.
Practi
316
.317
3^3
persons labouring under tbe cceliac passion. This euoi
quickly produced another, which has been very gener¬
ally received; namely, that the chyle was tin own out
of the lacteals by reason of some obstruction there, and
thus passed along with the excrements *, of which he
says there is not the least proof, and agrees with Are-
‘tseus that the whiteness is only occasioned by the want
of bile. He endeavours to prove at length, that the
coeliac passion can neither be occasioned by an obstruc¬
tion of the lacteals, nor of the mesenteric glands •,
though he owns that such as have died of this disease
and were dissected, had obstructions in the mesenteric
glands ; but he denies that all those in whom such ob¬
structions occur, arc subject to the coeliac passion. I e
considers the distemper as arising from a cachexy of the
stomachic and intestinal juices •, and directs the. cure to
be attempted by emetics, purgatives, antiseptics, ami
tonics, as in other species of diarrhoea*
Sp. V. The Lientery.
Lienteria spontanea, Sauv. sp. 2.
The lientery, according to Sauvages, dillers from the
coeliac passion only in being a slighter species ol the
disease. The aliment passes very quickly through
the intestines, with scarce any alteration. The patients
do not complain of pain, but are sometimes afiected
with an intolerable hunger. The cure is to be attempt¬
ed by stomachics and tonics, especially the Peruvian
bark. This disease is most common at the earlier pe¬
riods of life •, and then rhubarb in small quantities, par¬
ticularly when combined with magnesia, is often pro¬
ductive of the best effects.
Sp. VI. The Hepatic Tlux.
Hepatirrhoea intcstinalis, Sauv. sp. 2.
The hepatic diarrhoea is by Sauvages described as
a flux of bloody serous matter like the washings of
flesh, which percolates through the coats of the in¬
testines by means of the anastomosing vessels. It is
the coeliac passion of Trillianus ; and which, according
to Sauvages, rarely, if ever, occurs as a primary dis¬
ease. It has, however, been observed to follow an in¬
flammation of the liver, and then almost always proves
fatal.
Genus LXII. DIABETES.
A profuse Dischai'ge of Urine.
Diabetes, Sauv.
Sag. gen. 199.
gen. 263. Liu. 197.
Jzinck. 99. Dobson,
frog. 115.
Med. Ob-
319
servat. vol. v. p. 298. Home's Clinical Experi¬
ments, sect. xvi.
Diuresis, frog. 114.
Sp. I. The Diabetes with street Urine.
Diabetes Anglicus, Sauv. sp. 2. Mead, on Poisons*
Essay I. Ejusdem Monita Med. cap. ix. sect. 2-
Dobson in Lond. Med. Observ. vol. v. art. 27*
Myers Diss. inaug. de Diabete, Edinb. 1779*
Diabetes febricosus, Sauv. sp. 7. Sydenh. Ep. resp.
ad R. Brady.
1(
Sp. II. Diabetes with insipid Urine. ^biakt
M. Lister Exerc. Medicin. II. de Diabete. 3Jci
Diabetes legitimus, Sauv. sp. I. J/'etews de Morb.
diuturn. lib. ii. cap. 2.
Diabetes ex vino, Sauv. sp. 5. Ephem. Germ. D. I.
A. II. Observ. 122.
Description. The diabetes first shows itself by a
dryness of the mouth and thirst, white frothy spittle,
and the urine in somewhat larger quantity than usual.
A heat begins to be perceived in the bowels, which at
first is a little pungent, and gradually increases. The
thirst continues to augment by degrees, and the pa¬
tient gradually loses the power of retaining his urine
for any length of time. It is remarkable, that though
the patients drink much, the quantity of urine always
exceeds what is drank. In Dr Home’s Clinical Expe¬
riments we have an account of two patients labouring
under this disease : one of them drank between ic and
12 English pints a-day without being satisfied. The
quantity was greater in the forenoon than in the after¬
noon. In the other the case was reversed. He drank
about four pints a-day, and more in the afternoon than
the forenoon. The former discharged from 12 to 15
pints of urine in the day : the latter, 11 or 12 j so that
his urine always exceeded his drink by eight or at least
seven pints. When the urine is retained a little while,
there is a swelling of the loins, feet, and scrotum; in
this disease the strength gradually decays > the skin is
dry and shrivelled ; cedematous swellings arise in vari¬
ous parts of the body, but afterwards subside without
relieving the disease in the least \ and the patient is
frequently carried off by convulsions.
The most singular phenomenon in this disease is,
that the urine seems to be entirely or very much di¬
vested of an animal nature, and to be largely impreg¬
nated with a saccharine matter scarce distinguishable
from that obtained from the sugar-cane. This disco¬
very was first made by Dr Dobson of Liverpool, who
made some experiments on the urine of a person la¬
bouring under a diabetes, who discharged 28 pints of
urine every day, taking during the same time from 12
to 14 pounds of solid and liquid food. Some of this
urine being set aside, fell into a spontaneous efi'erves-
cence, changed first into a vinous liquor, and afterwards
into an acetous one, before it became putrid and often-
sive. Eight ounces of blood taken from the same pa¬
tient, separated into crassamentum and serum ; the lat¬
ter being sweet to the taste, but less so than the urine.
Two quarts of the urine, evaporated to dryness, left a
white cake weighing four ounces two drams and two
scruples. This cake was granulated, and broke easily
between the fingers: it smelled sweet like brown su¬
gar j neither could it by the taste be distinguished from
sugar, except that it left a slight sense of coolness on
the tongue. The experiment was repeated after the
patient was recovered to such a degree as to pass only
14 pints of urine a-day. There was now a strong
urinous smell during the evaporation j and the residuum
could not be procured in a solid form \ but was black¬
ish, and much resembled very thick treacle. In Dr
Home’s patients, the serum of the blood had no pre¬
ternatural sweetness 5 in one of them the crassamentum
was
ice.
was covered with a thick inflammatory crust. In one
of these patients the urine yielded an ounce and a half,
and in the other an ounce, of saccharine matter from
each pound. It had, howrever, an urinous smell, and a
saline taste mixed with the sweet one ; and the urine
of one fermented with yeast, we are told, into “ toler¬
able small-beer.” Both these patients had a voracious
appetite, and perpetual gnawing sense of hungeras
had also Dr Dobson’s patient. The insipid urine of
those affected with diabetes has not been examined by
physicians with sufficient accuracy to enable us to speak
with confidence of its contents.
Causes. These are exceedingly obscure and uncer¬
tain •, spasms of the nervous system, debility, and every
thing inducing it, but especially strong diuretics and
immoderate venery, have been accused of bringing on
the diabetes. It has, however, occurred in persons
where none of these causes could be suspected j nor
have the best physicians been able to determine it.—
Dissections have only shown that the kidneys were in
an enlarged and lax state. In one of Dr Home’s
patients who died, they smelled sour •, which showed
that the urine peculiar to diabetes came from the kid¬
neys, and was not sent directly from the intestines by
a retrograde motion of the lymphatics, as some ima-
gine.
Prognosis. The diabetes is rarely cured, unless when
taken at the very beginning, which is seldom done }
and in a confirmed diabetes the prognosis must there¬
fore be unfavourable.
Cure. As there is reason to believe that in this af¬
fection the morbid secretion of urine, which is both
preternatural in point of quantity and of quality, arises
from a morbid diminution of tone in the kidney, the
great object in the cure must be the restoration of due
tone to the secreting vessels of the kidney. But as even
this diminished tone would not give rise to the peculiar
vitiated secretion without a morbid sensibility of that
organ, it is necessarily a second object to remove this
morbid sensibility. But besides this, the morbid se¬
cretion of urine may also be counteracted both by a di¬
minution of the determination of fluids to the kidney,
and by preventing the occurrence of superfluous water
in the general mass of blood.
On these grounds the principal hopes of a cure in
this distemper are from astringent and strengthening
medicines. Dr Dobson’s patient was relieved by the
following remedies ; which, however, were frequently
varied, as none of them produced their good effects
for any length of time : Cinchona in substance, with
small doses of rhubarb ; decoction of the bark, with
the acid elixir of vitriol $ the cold infusion of the bark,
of which he tlrank from a quart to two quarts daily j
Dover’s powder; alum-whey ; lime-water ; antimonials
combined with tinctura thebaica. The warm bath was
used occasionally when the skin was remarkably hot and
dry, and the patient complained of restlessness and anxi¬
ety. The tincture of cantharides was likewise tried $
but he could never take more than 25 drops for a dose,
without exciting great uneasiness in his bowels. The
body was kept constantly open, either with rhubarb
or the infusion of senna joined with rhubarb. His
common drinks were rice-water, barley-water, lime-wa¬
ter, and milk 5 lime-water alone 5 sage, balm, or mint
tea; small beer, simple water, and water acidulated with
Vol. XIII. Part II.
401
the sulphuric acid. In seven months, these remedies, Diabetes,
in whatever manner varied, made no further progress in J
removing the disease. In Dr Home’s patients, all these
medicines, and many others, were tried without the
least good effect; insomuch that he uses this remarkable
expression : “ Thus, these two patients have exhausted
all that experience had ever recommended, and almost
all that theory could suggest; yet in both cases, the dis¬
ease has resisted all the means of cure used.” It is re¬
markable, that though septics were given to both, in
such quantity as evidently to produce a putrescency in
the prinue vice, the urine remained unaltered both in
quantity and quality.
But although this disease be frequently in its nature
so obstinate as to resist every mode of cure, yet there can
be no doubt that particular remedies have succeeded in
different cases. Dr Brisbane relates several cases cured
by the use of tincture of cantharides : and Dr McCor¬
mick has related some in the 9th volume of the Edin¬
burgh Medical Commentaries, which yielded to Do¬
ver’s powder after a variety of other remedies had been
tried in vain.
But of all the modes of cure lately proposed, that
which has been most celebrated, is the treatment re¬
commended by Dr Hollo of the Royal Artillery. In
a valuable work lately published, entitled Cases of the
Diabetes Mellitus, he has recorded two remarkable ex¬
amples of the good effects of a peculiar regimen in this
disease. He considers diabetes as being a disease not
of the kidney but of the alimentary canal, and as
arising from the formation of an uncommon quantity ot
sugar. He therefore strictly forbids the use of every
article of diet which can furnish sugar, even of bread $
and by a diet consisting entirely of animal and alkales¬
cent food his patients were much benefited. The ex¬
perience of some other practitioners has to a certain de¬
gree confirmed the observations of Dr Rollo. But we
are sorry to add, that we have met with many other
instances of diabetes mellitus, in which a diet consisting
solely of animal food, had a fair trial, without producing
any material benefit. And we may conclude with ob¬
serving, that the cure of diabetes still remains to be dis¬
covered. As allaying the excessive thirst, and pro¬
ducing a temporary restoration of urinous smell, or the
urea which it ought naturally to contain, we have found
nothing equal in efficacy to a large proportion of fat
meat, such as pork steaks or butter.
Genus LXIII. HYSTERIA. 3«
Hysterics.
Hysteria, Sauv. gen. 135. Lin. 126. Tog. 219. Sag.
gen. 242.
Malum hystericum, Hqffm. III. 50. Junck. 36.
Aftectio hysterica, ITilhs de Morb. Convulsiv. cap. 5*
10. 11. Sydenham Diss. Epist. ad G. Cole, 1/ hyit
on Nervous Disorders.
Description. The hysteria is a convulsive disease,
which comes oa at uncertain intervals, sometimes longer
and sometimes shorter, but at no stated time. I he
paroxysms commonly begin with a languor and debi¬
lity of the whole body } yawning, stretching, and rest¬
lessness A sense of coldness also in the extremities,
almost always precedes, and for the most part remains
during the whole time of, the paroxysm. To this somt-
4 3 E times
MEDICINE
M E D I
times succeeds a sense of heat; and the two sensations
alternate with each other in different parts of the body.
The face is sometimes flushed and sometimes pale : and
sometimes the paleness and flushing come alternately.
There is a violent pain in the head; the eyes become
dim, and pour out tears ; there is a rumbling and infla¬
tion of the intestines ; a sensation is felt like that of a
globe ascending from the lower part of the abdomen
or hypogastrium, which sometimes seems to roll along
the whole alimentary canal. It ascends to the stomach,
sometimes suddenly, sometimes slowly *, and there pro¬
duces a sense of inflation and weight, together with
anxiety, nausea, and vomiting. At last it comes up to
the throat, where it produces a sense of suffocation,
and difficulty of breathing or swallowing. .During
this time there are the most violent pains both in the
external and internal parts of the abdomen j the mus¬
cles are convulsed ; the umbilicus is drawn inwards;
and there are frequently such spasms of the intestines,
that neither clysters can be injected, nor even flatus
pass downwards. Sometimes the paroxysm remits af¬
ter these symptoms have continued for a certain time,
but more frequently the patients fall into fainting fits •,
sometimes they lie without motion, as if they were in
a deep sleep; sometimes they beat their breasts violent¬
ly and continually with their hands, and sometimes
they are seized with general convulsions, and the dis¬
ease puts on the appearance of an epilepsy. In some
patients the extremities become cold and stiff, and the
body has the appearance of one in a catalepsy. Some¬
times a most violent beating pain takes place in some
part of the head, as if a nail was driven into it, and
all visible objects seem to turn round ; grievous pains
attacks the loins, back, and bladder, and the patients
discharge a surprising quantity of urine as limpid as
water} which last is one of the surest signs of the dis¬
ease. The mind is very much affected as well as the
body. Sometimes the patients are tormented with vain
fears: sometimes they will laugh, at other times cry im¬
moderately j and sometimes their temper becomes so
peevish and fretful, that they cannot enjoy a moment’s
quiet. The appearances which take place in this af¬
fection are indeed so much varied, that they can hard¬
ly be enumerated : they may, however, with propriety,
he divided into hysteric fits, which very much resemble
those of epilepsy, excepting that they are not attended
with an abolition of the internal senses; and hysteric
symptoms, such as the globus hystericus, davits hysteri¬
cus, and the like, which ai'e chiefly known to constitute
a part ot this disease from being observed to alternate
with fits.
Causes, &c. The general cause of hysteria is thought
by the best physicians to consist in a too great mobi¬
lity and irritability of the nervous system, and of con¬
sequence the disease may be brought on by whatever
debilitates and renders the body irritable. Hence it
most frequently attacks females of a weak and lax ha¬
bit of body, though there are some instances of men al¬
so attacked by it. It generally comes on between the
time of puberty and the age of 35, and makes its at¬
tacks during the time of menstruation more frequently
than at any other. It also more frequently seizes bar¬
ren women and young widows, tham such as are bear¬
ing children.
Prognosis. Though the appearance cf this disease be
C I N £• Practic
so very terrible, it seldom proves mortal unless by wrong HJsterj
treatment: but notwithstanding this, it is extremely dif. 1
ficult of cure, and rarely admits of any thing else than
being palliated; for though it should seem to be con¬
quered by medicine for a time, it very quickly returns,
and that from the slightest causes.
Cure. The ends principally to be aimed at in the
cure of this disease are, in the first place, the removal
of particular convulsive or spasmodic affections imme¬
diately producing various appearances in the disease,
whether under the form of proper hysteric fits, or
merely of what may be called hysteric symptoms 5 and
in the second place, the prevention of the return of
symptoms after they have been removed, by the employ¬
ment of proper remedies during those intervals from
complaints which patients often have when labouring
under this affection.
The most powerful remedy hitherto discovered in
hysteric cases is opium, or the tincture of it. By this
commonly the most violent paroxysms are stopped,
though it be insufficient to accomplish a radical cure.
In Dr Home’s Clinical Experiments we find an in¬
stance of a cure performed by venesection, though this
remedy has been generally condemned in hysterical
cases. Asafoetida seems to stand next in virtue to
opium ; though with some it disagrees, and occasions
pains in the stomach and vomiting. Sulphuric aether
will also frequently remove an hysteric fit} but its ef¬
fects are of short duration ; and if it do not effect a,
cure soon after its exhibition, no service is to be ex¬
pected either by perseverance in the use ot it or by
increasing the dose y and with some constitutions it dis¬
agrees to such a degree as to occasion convulsions. If
the patient he seized with a violent fit, so that she can
swallow nothing, which is frequently the case, it will
be proper to apply some strong volatile alkali to her
nose } or if that be not at hand, the vapour of burning
feathers is sometimes very efficacious. In some in¬
stances benefit is derived from the sudden application of
cold water to the face or hands j but still more fre¬
quently the application of water in a tepid state,
particularly the Warm pediluvium, is found to be of
very gi’eat service in bringing about a favourable ter¬
mination of different violent hysteric symptoms. A
plaster of galbanum and asafoetida will also prove ser¬
viceable : but it must be remembered, that none of these
things will prevent the return of the disease 5 and there¬
fore a radical cure is to be attempted by exercise, cin¬
chona, chalybeates, mineral waters, and other tonics;
but particularly, wThere the state of the patient is such
as to be able to bear it, by the use of the cold bath,
which, where it does not disagree with the constitution,
is often of the greatest service in preventing returns oi
this affection.
In hysteria as well as in chorea Dr Hamilton has
found, that in some instances very great benefit has been
obtained from copious evacuations of the alimentary ca¬
nal, by cathartics frequently repeated.
Genus LXIV. HYDROPHOBIA.
The Dread of Water
Hydrophobia, Sauv. gen. 231. Lin. 86. Log. 30.
Sag. gen. 343. Boerh. 1138. Jtmck, 124. Mead
on Poisons, Dcssault sur la rage. Sauv. diss. sur
la
M E ft I
J a rage. James on canine madness, l^alby, Vir¬
tues of' cinnabar and musk against the bite of a
mad dog. Nugent on the hydrophobia. Chaiset,
Nouvelle methode pour ie traitement de la rage.
Journal de Medicine, passim. Medical Ohs. and
Inquiries, vol. iii. art. 34. vol. v. art. 20. 26. and
App. Med. Transact, vol. ii. art. 5. 12. and 1
Ueysham, Diss. inaug. de rah. canin. Edinb. 1777.
Tarry, Diss. inaug. de rab. contagios. sire canin.
Edinb. 1778. Andry, Reeherches sur la rage,
1778. Vaughan, Cases of hydrophobia, second
edit. 1778* Arnold, Case of hydrophobia, 1795.
Sp. I. Hydrophobia Rabiosa, or Hvdrophobv conse¬
quent on the Bite of a Mad Animal.
Hydrophobia vulgaris, Sauv. sp. 1.
It is the opinion of some, that Dr Cullen has done
wrong in employing the term hydrophobia as a generic
name, under which canine madness is included: and
it must be allowed, that the dread of Avater, while it is
not universal, is also a symptom occurring only late in
the disease, at least in the greater part of cases. Per¬
haps his arrangement would have been less exception¬
able, if, following Linnaeus, he had adopted rabies as
a generic term, and had distinguished this particular
species by the epithet of canina, contagiosa, or the like.
Disputes, however, about names, are in general not
very important j and it is sufficient to observe, that
the aftection now to be treated of is canine madness,
or that disease which arises from the bite of a mad
animal.
Descj'iption. This disease commonly does not make
its attack till a considerable time after the bite. In
some few instances it has commenced in seven or eight
days from the accident 5 but generally the patient con¬
tinues in health for 20, 30, or 40 days, or even much
longer. The bite, if not prevented, will in general be
healed long before that time, frequently with the great¬
est ease ; though sometimes it resists all kinds of heal¬
ing applications, and forms a running ulcer which dis¬
charges a quantity of matter for many days. It has
been said, that the nearer the wounded place is to the
salivary glands, the sooner the symptoms of hydro¬
phobia appear. The approach of the disease is known
by the cicatrix of the wound becoming high, hard,
and elevated, and by a peculiar sense of prickling at
the pax-t j pains shoot from it towards the throat :
sometimes it is surrounded with livid or red streaks,
and seems to be in a state of inflammation j though
Irequently there is nothing remarkable to be observed
about it. The patient becomes melancholy, loves so¬
litude, and has sickness at stomach. Sometimes the
peculiar symptom of the disease, the dread of water,
comes on all at once. We have an instance of one
who, having taken a vomit of ipecacuanha for the sick¬
ness he felt at his stomach, was seized with the hy¬
drophobia in the time he was drinking the warm wrater.
Sometimes the disease begins like a common sore throat j
and the soreness daily increasing, the hydrophobic symp¬
toms show themselves like a convulsive spasm of the
muscles of the fauces. In others, the mind seems to be
primarily affected, and they are subject to desponden¬
cy and melancholy for some time prior to any dread
Pra<
C I N E.
ot water. And when that dread commences, it is with
an evident mental affection. Dr James, in his Treatise
on Canine Madness, mentions a boy sent out to fill two
bottles with water, who v\Tas so terrified by the noise
of the liquid running into them, that he fled into the
house crying out that he was bewitched. He men¬
tions also the case of a farmer, who, going to draw
some ale from a cask, was terrified to such a degree at
its running into the vessel, that he ran out in a great
haste with the spigot in his hand. Butin whatever
manner this symptom comes on, it is certain that the
most painful sensations accompany every attempt to
swallow liquids. Nay, the bare sight of water, of a
looking-glass, of any thing clear or pellucid, will give
the utmost uneasiness, or evren throws the patient into
convulsions.
With regard to the affection of the mind itself in
this disease, it does not appear that the patients are
deprived of reason. Some have, merely by the dint
of resolution, conquered the dread of water, though
they never could conquer the convulsive motions which
the contact of liquids occasioned: while this resolu¬
tion has been of no avail for the convulsions and other
symptoms increasing, have almost always destroyed the
unhappy patients.
In this disease there seems to be an extreme sensibi¬
lity and irritability of the nervous system. The eyes
cannot bear the light, or the sight of any thing Avhite j
the least touch or motion offends then), and they Avant
to be kept as quiet and in as dark a jflace as possible.
Some complain of the coldness of the air, frequently
when it is really warm. Others complain of violent
heat ; and ha\re a great desire for cold air, which yet
ne\rer fails to increase the symptoms. In all there is a
great flow of viscid saliva into the mouth j which is
exceedingly troublesome to the patients, as it has the
same effect upon their fauces that other liquids have.
This therefore they perpetually blow off with violence,
which in a patient of Dr Fothergill’s occasioned a noise
not unlike the hollow barking of a dog, and which he
conjectures might have given rise to the common no¬
tion that hydrophobous patients bark like dogs. They
have an insatiable thirst 5 but are unable to get down
any drink, except with the utmost difficulty 5 though
sometimes they can swallow bread soaked in liquids,
slices of oranges, or other fruits. There is a pain un¬
der the scrobicvlns cordis, as in the tetanus } and the
patients mournfully point to that place as the seat of
the disease. Dr Vaughan is of opinion that it is this
pain, rather than any difficulty in swallowing, which
distresses the patient on every attempt to drink. The
voice is commonly plaintive and mournful 5 but Dr
Vaughan tells us there is a mixture of fierceness and
timidity in the countenance which he cannot describe,
but by which he could know a hydrophobous person
without asking any questions.
In this distemper, indeed, the symptoms are so va¬
rious, that they cannot be enumerated j for we will
seldom read two cases of hydrophobia A\rhich do not
differ very remarkably in this respect. Some Seem to
have at times a furious delirium, and an inclination to
spit at or bite the bystanders j while others show no
such inclination, but will even suffer people to wipe
the inside of their mouths with the corner of a hand¬
kerchief in order to clear away the viscid saliva which
4O3
Hydropho¬
bia..
.04 . MED!
Spasmi. is ready to suffocate them. In some male patients there
—v'-"*—'is an involuntary erection of the penis, and emission of
the semen ; and the urine is forced away by the fre-
qnent returns of the spasms. In a letter from Dr Wolf
of Warsaw to Henry Baker, F. R. S. dated Warsaw
Sept. 26th, 1767, we have the following melancholy
account of the cases of five persons who died of the
hydrophobia : “ None of them quite lost their right
senses •, but they were all talking without intermission,
praying, lamenting, despairing, cursing, sighing, spit¬
ting a frothy saliva, screeching, sometimes belching,
retching, but rarely vomiting. Every member is con¬
vulsed by fits, but most violently from the navel up to
the breast and oesophagus. The fit comes on every
quarter of an hour ; the fauces are not red, nor the
tongue dry. The pulse is not at all feverish j and when
the fit is over nearly like a sound pulse. The face
grows pale, then brown, and during the fit almost
black •, the lips livid ; the head is drowsy, and the
ears tingling,5 the urine limpid. At last they grow
weary 5 the fits are less violent, and cease towards the
end 5 the pulse becomes weak, intermittent, and not
very quick } they sweat, and at last the whole body
becomes cold. They compose themselves quietly as
if to get sleep, and so they expire. The blood drawn
a few hours before death appears good in every re¬
spect. A general observation was, that the lint and
dressings of the wounds, even when dry, were always
black, and that when the pus was very good in co¬
lour and appearance.” In one of Dr Wolf’s patients
who recovered, the blood stunk intolerably as it was
drawn from a vein 5 and one of Mr Vaughan’s patients
complained of an intolerable fetid smell proceeding
from the wounded part, though nobody but himself
could perceive it. In general, the violent convulsions
cease a short time before death j and even the hydro¬
phobia goes off, so that the patients can drink freely.
But this does not always happen ; for Mr Vaughan
mentions the case of a patient, in whom, “ when he
had in appearance ceased to breathe, the spasmus cyni-
cus was observable, with an odd convulsive motion in
the muscles of the face ; and the strange contrariety
which took place in the action of these produced the
most horrid assemblage of features that can well be
conceived. Of this patient also it was remarkable,
that in the last hours of his life he ceased to cry for
drink, which had been his constant request; but was
perpetually asking for something to eat.”
The hydrophobia seems to be a symptom peculiar
to the human race } for the mad animals which com¬
municate the infection, do not seem to have any dread
of water. Dr Wolf, in the letter above quoted, says
in general, that cattle bit at the same time and by
the same animal (a mad wolf) which bit the persons
whoses cases he related, died nearly with the same
frightful raging as the men ; but says nothing of their
having any hydrophobia : nay, Dr James and some
others assert, that the hydrophobia is not always an
attendant on rabies canina in the human race and
indeed it is certain that the disease has proved mortal
after this terrible symptom has been removed. With
regard to the symptoms of madness in dogs, they are
very equivocal ; and those particularly enumerated by
some authors, are only such as might be expected in
dogs much heated or agitated by being violently pur-
. ■ 4
C I Is E. Practii t
sued and struck. One symptom indeed, if it could be Hy(ir y
depended upon, would determine the matter ; namely, ' 14 r;
that all other dogs avoid and run away from one that
is mad •, and even large dogs will not attack one of
the smallest size who is infected Avith this disease.
Upon this supposition they point out a method of dis¬
covering whether a dog who has been killed was really
mad or not} namely, by rubbing a piece of meat along
the inside of his mouth, and then offering it to a sound
dog. If the latter eats it, it is a sign the dog was not
mad } but if the other rejects it with a kind of howling
noise, it is certain that he was. Dr James tells us, that
among dogs the disease is infectious by staying in the
same place ; and that after a kennel has been once in¬
fected, the dogs put into it will be for a considerable
time afterwards in danger of going mad also. A re¬
medy for this, he says, is, to keep geese for some time
in the kennel. He rejects as false the opinion that
dogs when going mad will not bark 5 though he owns
that there is a very considerable change in their bark,
which becomes hoarse and hollow.
Of all the accounts that have been published on the
characteristics of rabies in dogs, the best is to be
found in Dr Arnold’s late treatise : the characteristics
there mentioned are given on the authority of Mr
Meynell, a gentleman who has paid particular atten¬
tion to this subject. From Mr Meynell’s observations
it appeal's, that most of the characteristics which have
been commonly mentioned, are mere vulgar errors;
and, according to him, the best marks are from their
peculiar dull look, and the peculiar sound ivhich they
utter. “ Mad dogs (says Mr Meynell) never bark,
hut occasionally utter a most dismal and plaintive howl,
expressive of extreme distress, and which, they who
have once heard it, can never forget ; so that dogs
may be known to be going mad without being seen,
when only this dismal howl is heard.
Causes, &c. In no disease whatever are we more
at a loss to discover the causes than in the hydro¬
phobia. In dogs, foxes, and wolves, it seems to come
on spontaneously; though this is contested by some
authors. It is said, that the causes commonly assign¬
ed, viz. heat, feeding upon putrid flesh, want of wa¬
ter, &c. are not sufficient for producing the distem¬
per. It does not appear that madness is more frequent
among dogs in the warm than in the cold climates;
nay, in the island of Antigua, where the climate is
very hot, and the water very scarce, this distemper
has never, it is said, been observed. As to putrid ali¬
ment, it seems natural for dogs to prefer this to any
other, and they have been known to subsist upon it
for a long time without any detriment. For these
reasons, they think the disease arises from a specific
contagion, like the smallpox and measles among the
human race, which, being once produced by causes
unknown, continues to be propagated by the inter¬
course which dogs have with each other, as the dis¬
eases just mentioned continue to be propagated among
the human race.
With regard to the immediate cause among man¬
kind, there is not the least doubt that the hydropho¬
bia is: occasioned by the saliva of the mad animal be¬
ing mixed with the blood. It does not appear that
this can operate through the cuticula ; but, when that
is rubbed oft’, the smallest quantity is sufficient to com¬
municate
lice. M E D I
• municate the disease, and a slight scratch with the
_j teeth of a mad animal has been found as pernicious
as a large wound. It is certain also, that the infection
has been communicated by the bites of dogs, cats,
wolves, foxes, weasels, swine, and even cocks and hens,
when in a state of madness. But it does not appear
that the distemper is communicable from one bydro-
phobous person to another, by means of the bite, or
any other way. Dr Vaughan inoculated a dog with
the saliva of a hydrophobous child, but the animal con¬
tinued free from disease for two months: and though
the doctor promised to inform the public if it should
happen to occur afterwards, nothing has hitherto ap¬
peared on that subject. A nurse also frequently kissed
this child during the time of his disorder, but no bad
consequence ensued.
When we attempt to investigate the nature of the
cause of the hydrophobia by dissections, our inquiries
are commonly disappointed. In two bodies opened by
Dr Vaughan, there was not the.least morbid appear¬
ance } in the very fauces, where we might have ex¬
pected that the disease would have shown itself most
evidently, there was not the least appearance even of
inflammation. The stomach, intestines, diaphragm,
oesophagus, &c. were all in a natural state : neither
do we find in authors of credit any certain accounts of
morbid appearances in the bodies of hydrophobous
persons after death. Dr Vaughan therefore concludes,
that the poison acts upon the nervous system j and
is so wholly confined to it, that it may be doubted
whether the qualities of the blood are altered by it or
not 5 and that it acts upon the nerves by impairing and
disturbing their functions to such a degree as speedily
to end in a total extinction of the vital principle. As
to the difficulty in swallowing generally believed to ac¬
company the dread of water, he treats it as a misre¬
presentation, as well as that the oesophagus with the
muscles subservient to deglutition are especially con¬
cerned in this disease. The principal foundation of
the evil, he thinks, rests on a morbid sensibility both
of the external and internal fauces. For the sight of a
liquid, or the application of any substance to the in¬
ternal fauces, but more especially of a fluid, instantly
excites the most painful feelings. Nay, the same
symptoms are produced by touching the external fau¬
ces, with a fluid, or by the contact of cold air with
these parts ; and nearly in as great a degree. But a
solid or fluid substance being conveyed into the {eso¬
phagus, the transit into the stomach is accomplished
with little or no impediment •, so that in fact the diffi¬
culty is surmounted before the patient is engaged in the
action of swallowing. Nor is the excruciating pain,
which never fails to be the companion of every attempt
to drink, felt in the fauces and throat: it is, he says,,
at the scrohiculus cordis; to which the sufferer applies
his hand. From this last circumstance, therefore, from
the presence of the risus sardonicus, from the muscles of
the abdomen being forcibly contracted, and from the
sense of suffocation which seems to threaten the patient
with immediate death, Dr Vaughan has been led to
think that in the hydrophobia a new sympathy was esta¬
blished between the fauces, the diaphragm, and the ab¬
dominal muscles.
Prognosis. When a person is bit, the prognosis with
regard to the ensuing hydrophobia is very uncertain,
CINE. 405
All those who are bit do not fall into the disease $ Hydroplio-
nay, Dr Vaughan relates, that out of 30 bit by a mad l>ia.
dog, only one was seized with the hydrophobia. Du- v
ing the interval between the bite and the time the dis¬
ease comes on, there are no symptoms by which we can
judge w hether it will appear or not. When once it has
made its appearance, the prognosis is exceedingly fatal,
though there are certainly some well authenticated cases,
of complete recovery, particularly one recorded by ,Dr
Arnold.
Prevention and Cure. It has been generally allowed
by practitioners, that though the hydrophobia may be
prevented, yet it can seldom if ever be cured after it
has made its appearance. The most essential part of
the treatment therefore depends on the proper use of
means of prevention. The great objects to be aimed
at in prevention, are, in the first place, the complete
removal of the contagious matter as soon as possible j
or, secondly, means of destroying it at the part, where
there is even the slightest reason to believe that it has
not been completely removed. Of all the means of
removal, the complete cutting out the part to which
the tooth had been applied, is unquestionably the most
to be depended upon. This practice, therefore, should
he had recourse to as soon as possible. The sooner it
can he accomplished the better. But it has been ob¬
served, that as a peculiar sensation at the part affected
ahvavs precedes the accession of the disease, even when
it takes place at a late period after the bite, there is
good ground for believing that the removal of the part
may be of advantage even after a considerable inter¬
val. But besides removal of the contagious matter,
by cutting awray the part to which it is attached, this
should also be attempted by careful and long-continued,
washing. This may he done, in most instances, be¬
fore a proper opportunity can be had of having re¬
course to the knife. Cold water should particularly,
be poured upon the wound from a considerable height,,
that the matter may be washed away with some force.
Even after removal by the knife, careful washing is.
still a necessary and proper precaution. And after,
both these, to prevent as far as can be the possibility
of any contagious matter lurking about the wounded
part, it should not be allowed to heal, but a discharge
of matter should be supported for the space of several,
w eeks, by ointment with cantharides, or similar ap¬
plications. By these means there is at least the best
chance of removing the matter at a sufficiently early
period. And this mode of prevention seems to be of
more consequence than all others put together which*
have hitherto been discovered. But besides removal,
prevention may also be obtained by the destruction of
the contagious matter at the part ^ and where there is
the least reason to think that a complete removal has
not been obtained, this should always be had recourse,
to. With this intention the actual cautery and burn¬
ing with gun-powder have been employed. And the
action of fire is probably one of the most powerful
agents that can be used for this purpose. . But recourse
has also been had to washing both with acids and
with alkalies. Of the former kind, vinegar has been
chiefly used, but more may probably be expected from
the latter; and particularly from the caustic alkali, so.
far diluted that it can be applied with safety: for from,
its influence as a solvent of animal mucus, it gives
4o6 ■ M E D I
Spa&mi. the best chance of a complete removal of the matter,
—v   independent of any influence in changing its nature.
It has been thought also, that oil applied to the part
mav be of service. But if recourse be had to it, more
active measures should at least be previously employed j
and even then, some are of opinion that it is of advan¬
tage to increase the activity of the unctuous matter by
combining it with mercury.
On these grounds, and by these means, we are in¬
clined to think that the action of this contagion on
the system, after it has been applied by the bite of a
rabid animal, may be most effectually prevented. But
after this action has once taken place, no remedy has
yet been discovered on which much dependence can
be put. A very great variety of articles indeed
have at different periods been held forth as infallible,
both in the prevention and cure of this affection } but
their reputation has, perhaps, universally been found¬
ed on their being given to people, who, though really
bit by a mad dog, were yet not infected with the con¬
tagion. And this happily, either from the tooth be¬
ing cleaned in making the bite, or not being covered
with contagious matter, is by no means an unfrequent
occurrence. Mankind, however, even from the ear¬
liest ages, have never been without some boasted speci¬
fic, which has been held forth as an infallible remedy
for this affection till fatal experience demonstrated the
contrary. Dr Boerhaave has given a pretty full cata¬
logue of those specifics from the days of Galen to his
own time) and concludes, that no dependence is to be
put in any of them. It is now, therefore, altogether
unnecessary to take notice of burnt crabs, the hyaena’s
skin, mithridate with tin, liver of the rabid animal,
or a variety of other pretended remedies for this disease,
provetl by experience to be totally inefficacious. But
although no greater confidence is perhaps to be put in
specifics of modern date, it will be px-opcr that these
should be mentioned.
Bathing in cold water, especially in the sea, and
drinking sea-water for a certain time, have been pre¬
scribed, and by some accounted a certain preventive.
When this was known to fail, a long course of anti-
jihlogistic regimen, violent submersion in xvater, even
to danger of drowning, and keeping the wounded place
open with cauteries, were recommended.—To this ex¬
treme severity Dr Mead objected 5 and in his treatise
on this subject endeavours to show, that in all ages the
greatest success has been reaped from diuretics, for
which reason he proposes the following powder :
“ Take ash-coloured ground-liverwort, half an ounce 5
black-pepper, two drams: reduce them separately to
powder, then mix them together.” This powder was
first published in the Philosophical Transactions, by
Mr Dam pier, in whose family it had been kept as a
secret for many years. But this medicine which was in¬
serted in former editions of the London and Edinburgh
pharmacopoeias under the name of Pulvis Antilyssus.
has long lost its credit.
There is a famous East India medicine, composed
of 24 grains of native and as much factitious cinnabar,
made into a powder with 16 grains of musk. This is
called the Tonquin medicine, and must be taken in
a tea cupful of arrac or brandy; and it is said to se¬
cure the patient for 30 davs, at the expiration of
I
ce,
CINE. _ Practi
which it is to be repeated; but if he has any syrup- Hydropic
toms of the disease, it must be repeated in three hours, * bia.
which is said to be sufficient for a cure. The first dose
is to be taken as soon after the bite as possible.
Another celebrated remedy is Palmarius’s powder,
composed of the leaves of rue, vervain, sage, polypody,
wormwood, mint, mugwort, balm, betony, St John’s,
wort, and lesser centaury. These herbs must be ga¬
thered in their prime, dried separately in the shade,
and then powdered. The dose is a dram, or a dram
and a half, taken every day.
A remedy which might promise to be more effica¬
cious than any of those hitherto mentioned is mercury.
This has been recommended in frictions, and to be
taken inwardly in the form of calomel and turbith mi¬
neral, in order if possible to raise a slight salivation,
on which the efficacy was thought to depend. Besides
this, venesection, opium, cinchona, and camphor, have
been tried in very large quantities; the warm bath;
and, in short, every thing which human invention
could suggest; but with how little success, can be
judged from many well authenticated cases.
Dr Wolf, after detailing anumber of interesting cases,
makes the following observation.—“ Thus we see,
that the mercury, the acids, the musk, the feeding on
the most famous herbs, the sweating, the cura antiphlo-
gistica, &c. are no specifics.”
The following case by Dr Raymond of Marseilles
shows the inefficacy of mercury even as a preventive.
—On the 19th of July 1765, Mr Boyer, aged 25, of
a bloated cachectic habit, was bit by a mad dog in the
inferior part of the leg : the wound extended half way
round, bled freely, and was like a great scratch. The
patient’s legs had been swelled for a considerable time
before the accident; and there were also two ulcers in
the other leg. Some hours after the accident, the ac¬
tual cautery was applied to the wound. The doctor was
not present at this operation; but the part around the
bite was rubbed with mercurial ointment immediately
after, and the eschar was dressed with the same oint¬
ment. The eschar was separated on the first clay, but
the dressing W'as continued till the wound was cicatri¬
sed. The second day a bolus of four grains ol turbith
and eight grains of camphor was exhibited. This
procured a considerable evacuation both by vomit and
stool, and a spitting also came on. The third daV
the bitten leg was rubbed with mercurial ointment : in
the space of a month the frictions were repeated five
times on both legs, three drams of mercurial oint¬
ment being used in each friction. During the same
time the bolus was five times repeated ; and this treat¬
ment kept up a slight salivation to the 40th day. The
evening of the third day be took the Tonquin medicine,
called also Sir George Cobb's powder, in a bolus ; which
vomited him briskly. This powder was repeated seven
or eight times in the month, generally with the same
effect. During the first seven or eight days he got lour
times, in the morning, a dram of the anagallis jlorc
pimiceo, fresh gathered and powdered. The 41st day,
the turbith bolus was prescribed for the seventh time"
be was bathed in the sea, and continued the bathing
for two days more. On the 74th he was seized with
the distemper ; and died on the 76th, seemingly suflo-
cated or strangled, his mouth covered with slaver, and
MEDICINE.
pr :tice.
Islim. Ms face bloated. He lost his senses not above half a
quarter of an hour before his death. The pulse was
quiet the whole time.
Another instance is mentioned by the same author,
of a pregnant woman bit by the same dog and on the
same day with Mr Boyer, who was never seized with
the distemper. She was treated in much the same
manner with him, and salivated a little more. But
she was bit through a shamoy leather shoe, which
must necessarily have cleaned the animal’s teeth of the
poisonous saliva before they reached her skin, and to
this we are naturally led to ascribe her safety. One of
Dr Wolf’s patients also was a pregnant woman, and
was not seized with the distemper. Perhaps women
in a state of pregnancy may be less liable to this di¬
stemper than others } but it is more probable that the
contagion was not communicated.
The same author tells us, “ there are many examples
of the inefficacy of mercurial frictions. A surgeon of
Marseilles treated a girl about 12 years of age bit by
a mad dog, with mercurial frictions ; applying them
as in the lues venerea: yet she died of the hydro¬
phobia on the 55th day. Her wound was not cau¬
terized.”
In the following case all the most powerful remedies
were tried.—In the afternoon of the 29th of Aug. 1777,
Dr V aughan was called to a boy of eight years of age
labouring under a hydrophobia. He bad been bit on
the wrist by a cat about a month before ; of which the
marks remained, but without any ulcer, or even the
smallest appearance of inflammation. About the middle
of the day before Dr Vaughan saw him, he began to
complain of a pain in the part bitten, which ascended up
the arm, and affected the temple on that side $ soon af¬
ter which he swallowed liquids with reluctance and dif¬
ficulty. He was put into the warm bath for three
quarters of an hour, during which time he was easier :
he had a clyster of five ounces of fresh broth, and 30
drops of laudanum, injected immediately after his co¬
ming out of it: a liniment consisting of three drams
of strong mercurial ointment with the same quantity of
oil of amber, was rubbed upon the shoulders and back }
two pills of a grain of flowers of zinc, and half a grain
of cuprum ammoniacum, were taken every three or four
hours ; and a medicated atmosphere was prepared for
him, by burning gum ammoniac in bis room. As these
remedies were not attended with any good effect, each
dose of pills was ordered to contain two grains of cu¬
prum ammoniacum, the same quantity of opium, three
grains of flowers of zinc, and. ten grains of asafoetida 5
whilst a solution of that fetid gum, with a dram of
laudanum, was administered as a clyster. These pills,
though repeated every four hours, afforded not the
smallest relief, nor did they show the least action on the
irame. At last the doctor resolved to put in practice
the desperate x’emedy mentioned by Van Helmont, of
throwing the patient into cold water, and keeping him
there till he is almost drowned. With this view a large
tub of cold water, well saturated with common salt, was
prepared, into which the poor boy was plunged over
head and ears, and there held until he ceased to struggle.
He was then taken out again, and the same operation
repeated until he became so quiet that the doctor was
under apprehensions that a total extinction of life
would take place. He was then wrapped up in a
blanket and put to bed, and he remained more quiet Hydropho-
than he had formerly been j but all his former restless- biu.
ness soon returned, his pulse sunk, and he died about
two o’clock in the morning.
Another celebrated antidote against the poison of a
mad dog has been known tor some years by the name
ot the Ormskirk medicine. rLhe true composition of.
this is kept a secret by the proprietors: however, it
has been analysed, and the following composition pub¬
lished by Dr Heysham as perfectly similar to it in all
respects.
“ Take half an ounce of chalk, three drams of
Armenian bole, 10 grains of alum, one dram of ele¬
campane in powder j mix them all together, and add six
drops of oil of anise.”
They must certainly be very credulous who can put
confidence in such an insignificant medicine as a preser¬
vative against the hydrophobia: however, there is a
possibility that there may be some unknown ingredient
in the genuine powder: for it is difficult to analyse
powders after the ingredients are thoroughly mixed
together. The efficacy of the medicine therefore must
depend ou the virtues of that unknown ingredient, if
any such there be. The following cases, however, too
well determine that it is not infallible, as was at first
pretended. In all probability, as well as many others,
its reputation also is solely rested on its being exhibi¬
ted in many cases where no contagion was communi¬
cated to the person bit, and while of course no disease
could take place.
On the 14th of February 1774, Mr Bellamy of
Holborn, aged 40, was bit by a cat affected with rabies,
which was killed the same morning. The following
day he took the celebrated Ormskirk medicine, sold
by Hill and Berry in Hill-Street, Berkeley-Square,
and conformed in every respect to the directions given
by the vender. A servant maid, who was bitten in the
leg before her master was bitten, likewise took the same
remedy. About the middle of April Mr Bellamy
complained of a pain in his right knee, which he sup¬
posed to be rheumatic, and which continued and
increased till the 7th of June, when he got some pills
of calomel, ipecacuanha, and pil. sapon. from an apothe¬
cary, with Huxham’s tincture of the bark in small doses.
In six days more he had a titillation in the urethra, a
contraction of the scrotum and penis to a degree of pain,
and an emission of semen after making water, to which
he had frequent calls. The medicines ivere discontinu¬
ed j and on the 16th of that month the hydrophobia
came on, and Dr Fotbergill was called. Six ounces of
blood were taken from his arm, and a bolus of a scruple
of native cinnabar and half a scruple of musk was given
every four hours. The distemper manifestly increased
through the day. In the evening a clyster was injected,
and several times repeated during the night j he had
been put into the warm bath, and two drams ol strong
mercurial ointment rubbed into bis legs and thighs by
himself. He was greatly relieved by the warm bath
while he continued in it, but the symptoms returned
with increased violence in the night. The next day
being greatly worse, be was blooded to as great a
quantity as be could bear, bad the warm bath and
clysters repeated, and half an ounce of mercurial oint¬
ment rubbed into his thighs and legs. Fills of opium
were prescribed, but he did not take them. He died
>4o B
Spasmi. the same night, at half an hour after 12. This patient
was a man ot great resolution, and could in part con¬
quer his aversion at water. He seemed to have total¬
ly forgot the accident of the bite : and casually said,
that he thought this disorder resembled the hydropho¬
bia, without supposing that he was afflicted with that
distemper at the time.—The bite on the girl’s leg re¬
fused to heal, baffled the art of a young surgeon who
attempted to cure it, and continued a running ulcer
: for a long time. She did not fall into the hydropho¬
bia. Hence Dr Fothergill thinks it probable, that
keeping the wounds made by the teeth of mad animals
open for a long time, would probably be of service as
a preventive j but in some of Dr Wolf’s patients
these artificial drains appear not to have been attended
with success.
On the 16th of November I773> Thomas Nourse,
■ a strong healthy boy of 14* was admitted into the Lei¬
cester infirmary having been that day month bitten
by a mad fox-bound. The wound was a large laceiated
one on the cheek, and bled very freely on being inflicted.
The day after he was bit he went to the sea, where he
was dipped with all the severity usually practised un¬
der so disagreeable an operation. The Ortnskirk me¬
dicine was also administered with all due care. It was
bought of the person in Leicester who is deputed by
the proprietor to sell it for him. A common adhesive
plaster was applied to the part after sea-bathing ; and
in the course of a month, without any further trouble,
- -v the wound was healed ; excepting a small portion,
k somewhat more than an inch in length, and in breadth
about one-tenth. This yielded no discharge, and was
quite in a cicatrizing state. Five days before his ad-
- mission into the infirmary, he began to complain of a
tightness over bis temples, and a pain in his head : in
two days the hydrophobia began to appear} and at its
commencement he complained of a boiling heat in his
stomach, which was continually ascending to the fauces.
The disease was pretty strong when he came to the in¬
firmary. He got a bolus of a scruple of musk with
two grains of opium j then a composition of 15 grains
of musk, one of turbith mineral, and five grains ot
opium, was directed to be taken every third hour }
an ounce of the stronger mercurial ointment was to be
rubbed on the cervical vertebrae and shoulders, and an
embrocation of two ounces of laudanum, and half an
ounce of acetitm saturninum, was directed to be applied
to the throat. But by this last he was thrown into
convulsions, and the same effect followed though his
eyes were first covered with a napkin. The embroca¬
tion was therefore changed for a plaster of three
drams of powdered camphor, half an ounce of opium,
and six drams confectio Damoa itis. By these medi¬
cines the disease seemed to be somewhat suspended, but
the symptoms returned with violence in the evening.
His medicine was repeated at seven *, and at eight
five grains of opium were exhibited without musk or
turbith. At nine, another ounce of mercurial oint¬
ment was rubbed upon the shoulders, and half an
ounce of laudanum with six ounces of mutton-
broth was injected into the intestines, but to no pur¬
pose. A larger dose of opium was then given, but
with as little effect as the former, and he died the
same night.
In the month of September 1774. a farmer, aged
Practice
25, was bit by a mad dog, whose teeth made a slight Hydropic
wound in the fore finger of the left hand. He was dip- but
ped, as usual, in the sea ; and drank the sea-water for' r-
some time on the spot, which operated briskly as a
purge. He continued well till the 6th of June follow¬
ing, when he first felt a pain in that band and arm 5 for
which he bathed in a river that evening, supposing that
it had been a rheumatic complaint. The next day he
was sick 5 and in the evening was seized with a violent
vomiting, which continued all that night and till the
middle of the next day, when it was succeeded by the
hydrophobia. He was treated with the warm bath ;
had a purgative clyster injected •, and as soon as it had
operated, a second was given, consisting of four ounces
of oil, and half an ounce of laudanum j half an ounce
of strong mercurial ointment was rubbed on the fauces,
and the part was afterwards covered with the cataplas-
ma e cymin", to which was added an ounce of opium.
An embrocation was applied to the region of the sto¬
mach with continued friction, consisting of half an
ounce of spirit of sal ammoniac, ten drams of olive oil,
six drams of oil of amber, and ten drams of lauda¬
num. Two ounces of strong mercurial ointment were
rubbed upon the shoulders and back; and as a further
means of inducing a ptyalism speedily, he received the
smoke of cinnabar into the mouth by throwing a
dram of that substance now and then upon a hot
iron : he was also directed to take every four hours
a bolus of 15 grains of musk, three grains of turbith
mineral, and four grains of opium. He was easier
while in the warm bath, and during the application of
the ointment j but died the same night about two
o’clock.
Many other instances might he adduced of the in¬
efficacy of this pretended specific : which will, it is
hoped, create a due degree of caution in those to whom
they who are so unfortunate as to be bit by a mad ani¬
mal may commit themselves. Another remedy may
also be mentioned as having had the reputation ot being
sometimes successful in this disease } which is chiefly
employed in different parts of India, particularly in the
territory of Tanjore. The medicine to which we now
allude contains indeed several articles which are altoge¬
ther unknown in our materia medica : but it contains at
least one very powerful substance well known to us,
viz. arsenic. This medicine, known by the name of
the Snake Pills, as being principally employed against
the bite of the most venomous snakes, is directed to
be prepared in the following manner :
Take white arsenic, of the roots of nelli navi, of
nevi visham, of the kernels of the ner valum, of pep¬
per, of quicksilver, each an equal quantity. The
quicksilver is to he rubbed with the juice of the wild
cotton till the globules are perfectly extinguished.
The arsenic being first levigated, the other ingre¬
dients, reduced to a powder, are then to he added, and
the whole beat together with the juice of the wild
cotton to a consistence fit to be divided into pills.
Though these pills are principally used against the
bite of the cobra de capello, yet they are said also
to be successful in the cure of other venomous bites >
and, for the prevention of rabies canina, one is taken
every morning for some length of time. Of this re¬
medy European practitioners have, we believe, as yet
no experience j and if, in the accounts transmitted
medicine.
Pr -tice. MED!
L mi. by East India practitioners^ it cannot be said that we
ul. ■—* have authentic evidence of its want of success, it can
as little be pretended that there is indubitable evidence
of its efticacy in any instance; and it is by no means
improbable, that it will be found equally inefficacious
with others at one time considered as infallible.
Of the great variety of remedies which have had
their day of reputation, there is not one which has
not possessed the credit, some time or other, of pre¬
venting the noxious effects arising from the bite of a
mad dog. A more adequate experience has with all
of them discovered the deception. It was above observ¬
ed, that rabies is by no means the infallible consequence
of being bit by a mad animal ; and that of between
20 and 30 persons who were bit by the dog which gave
the fatal wound to one of Dr Vaughan’s patients, not
one felt the least ill effect hut himself. “ In the above
number (says the doctor) were some who took the
Ormskirk medicine } others went to the salt water j
and pai-t of them used no remedy, who yet fared
equally well with the most attentive to their injury.
The same thing has often happened before 5 and much
merit, I doubt not, has been attributed to the medicine
taken, from that celebrated one of Sir George Cobb
down to the infallible one which my good Lady Bounti-
fuVs receipt-book furnishes.”
From all that has been said, the reader will judge
how far the hydrophobia is capable of being subdued
by any of the medicinal powers which have yet been
tried. Some eminent physicians assert that it is totally
incurable j and allege that the instances recorded by
different authors of its cure have not been the genuine
kind, but that which comes on spontaneously, and
which is by no means so dangerous. Indeed two of
Dr Wolf’s patients recovered, where the disease seems
to have been perfectly genuine: but in these the poi¬
son seemed to vent itself partly on some other place
besides the nervous system. In one the blood wras
evidently infected, as it had an abominable feetor $
and the other had a violent pain and swelling in the
belly. In all the others, it seemed to have attacked
only the nervous system ; which perhaps has not the
same ability to throw off’ any offending matter as the
vascular system.
There is, however, a possibility that the prodigious
affections of the nerves may arise only from a vitiated
state of the gastric juices *, for it is well known, that
the most terrible convulsions, nay the hydrophobia
itself, will arise from an affection of the stomach, with¬
out any bite of a mad animal. This seems to be
somewhat confirmed from one of Dr Wolf’s patients,
who, though he vomited more than 50 times, yet still
threw up a frothy matter, which was therefore evi¬
dently seex-eted into the stomach, just as a continual
vomiting of a bilious matter shows a continual and ex¬
traordinary seci'etion of bile. Dr Wolf himself adopts
this hypothesis so far as to say, that perhaps the serum
may become frothy; but in blood drawn from a vein
not the least fault appears either in the serum or crassa-
mentum. He affirms, however, that the duodenum
appears to be one of the parts first and principally af¬
fected 5 and as it is not inflamed, it would seem that
the affection it sustains must arise from the vitiated state
of its juices.
Be this as it will, however, in the hydrophobia, the
f ' VoL. XIII. Part II. f
CINE. 4o9
stomach seems totally, or in a great measure, to lose Hydropho-
the power which at other times it possesses. Two (
grains of cuprum ammoniacum were repeatedly given v"-”
to a child of eight years of age without effect j but
this dose would occasion violent vomiting in a strong
healthy man. Something or other therefore must
have prevented this substance from acting on the ner¬
vous coat of the stomach 5 and this we can only sup¬
pose to have been the exceedingly disordered state of
the gastric juice, which occasioned such violent irrita¬
tion through the whole body, that the weaker stimulus
of the medicine was entirely lost. It would seem
proper therefore to consider the stomach in hydi-o-
phobic cases as i-eally containing a poisonous matter,
which could not be expelled by vomiting, because it
is renewed as fast as evacuated. The indication thcre-
foi'e must be, to change its nature by such medicines
as are certainly more powerful than the poison;
and this indication will naturally lead Us to think of
large doses of alkaline salts. These, it is certain, will
destroy any animal substance with which they come in
contact, and render even the poison of sCi'pents in-*
active. By exhibiting a few doses of them, larger
no doubt than what can be safely done on other oc¬
casions, we would he certain to change the state of
the stomachic juices 5 and this might free the patient
from those intolerable spasms which always occasion
death in such a short time. Dr Wolf seems in¬
clined to think that volatile alkalies were of ser¬
vice ; but the above hypothesis would incline us to
use rather the fixed kind. At any rate, it seems
vain for physicians to trust much to the power of
opium, mercury, musk, or cinnabar, either singly or
combined in any possible way. Cinchona has also
failed, and the most celebi'ated specifics have been
found ineffectual. .Alkalies are the next most powerful
remedies which the materia medica affords, and they
cannot be more unsuccessful than the others have gene¬
rally been.
Another remedy which seems adapted to change the
nature of the gastric juices is ardent spirits. In one of
Dr Wolf’s patients two bottles of brandy seem to have
effected a cure. The oil mixed with it was of no effi¬
cacy in other cases, and the opium and turbith seem
not to have been exhibited till the worst was past. In
this case the disease seems to have attacked the vascu¬
lar as well as the nervous system.
In all the patients the warm bath seems to have been
a palliative, and a very powerful one, and as such it
ought never to be omitted, though we can by no
means trust to it as a radical cure j and the above hi-
stories abundantly show, that though the warm bath
and opium may palliate for a short time, the cause on
which the spasms depend is still going on and increa¬
sing, till at last the symptoms become too strong to be
palliated even for a moment by any medicine however
powerful. At any rate, the above-mentioned hypo¬
thesis suggests a new indication, which, if attended to,
may pei-haps lead to useful discoveries. In cases where
putrescent bile is abundantly seci’eted, columbo root
and vegetable acids are recommended to change the
natiwe of the poison which the body is pex-petually pro¬
ducing in itself. Where corrosive mercury has been
swallowed, alkaline salt is I'ecommended to destroy the
poison which nature cannot expel by vomiting) and
3 E why
334
M E D I
why should not something he attempted to destroy the
poison which the stomach seems to secrete in the hydro¬
phobia, and which nature attempts to expel, though in
vain, by violent efforts to vomit ?
But whatever plan may be pursued in the hopes of
curing this dreadful malady after any of the symptoms
have made their appearance, wre ought, in every in¬
stance, to direct our immediate care to prevention, as
being perhaps the only real ground of hope: And the
most certain and efficacious way of preventing the ill
consequences, is instantly (if it can be done) to cut
out the piece that happens to be bitten. Dr James,
indeed, says, that he would have little opinion of cut¬
ting or cauterizing, if ten minutes were suffered to
elapse from the receiving of the bite before the opera¬
tion was performed. But in an inaugural dissertation
lately published at Edinburgh by Dr Parry, the author
is of opinion that excision will be of use a considerable
time after the bite is received. He adopts this opi¬
nion from what happens in the smallpox, where the
blood does not seem to receive the infection till some
days after inoculation has been performed. A second
inflammation, he tells us, then takes place, and the in¬
fection is conveyed into the blood. In like man¬
ner, when the hydrophobous infection is about to be
conveyed into the blood, according to him, the wound,
or its cicatrix, begins again to be inflamed j and it is
this second inflammation which does all the mischief.
Excision, or the cautery, will therefore be effectual
any time between the bite and the second inflammation
of the wound. Without implicitly trusting to this doc¬
trine, however, or considering it as in any degree ascer¬
tained in what manner the poison diffuses itself, by what
marks its progress may be known, or how soon the sys¬
tem may be irremediably tainted writh its malignity, it
is undoubtedly safest not to lose unnecessarily a mo¬
ment’s time in applying the knife. This, or a dilation,
of the wound if it he small, Dr Vaughan considers as
the only prophylactics that can be depended upon. In
the latter case, he directs to fill the wound with gun-
powder, and set fire to it; which would produce a la¬
ceration of the part, and possibly the action of ignited
powder upon the poison may have its use. In all cases,
likewise, after these practices have been employed, the
wound should be prevented from healing for some length
of time.
Sp. II. The Spontaneous Hydrophobia.
Hydrophobia spontanea, Sauv. sp. 2.
This disease very much resembles the former, so that
it has undoubtedly been often mistaken for it. It has
been known to come on from an inflammation of the
stomach, where it was cured by repeated and large
bloodlettingin hysteria, where it was cured by opium,
musk, or other antispasmodics *, and in putrid fevers,
where it was cured by evacuating the intestinal canal of
the putrid matters by repeated clysters. A very good
method of distinguishing the two is, that in the sponta¬
neous hydrophobia the patient is much more delirious
than in the genuine species. In the instance mentioned
in the Medical Essays of this symptom attending the in¬
flammation of the stomach, the patient raved in the most
extraordinary manner. Dr Raymond says he remem¬
bers a spontaneous hydrophobia attended with madness ;
CINE. Practice.
and in almost all the cases of hydrophobia wbich are Hydro
said to have been cured, the patient was very delirious.
Dr Nugent’s patient was very frequently delirious, and'
dreaded dogs as well as water. In the Medical Trans¬
actions a case is communicated by W. Wrightson sur¬
geon in Sedgefield, Durham, of raaob/ess success¬
fully treated. This madness indeed came on after the
bite of a dog said to be mad : hut it appeared only four
days after the accident happened, and was attended
with symptoms very unlike any of those above-mention¬
ed 5 for he suddenly started up in a fit of delirium, and
ran out of the house, and after being brought in, caught
hold of the hot bars of the grate which held the fire:
Whereas, in the true hydrophobia, the patients dread
the fire, light, or any thing which makes a strong im¬
pression on the senses. It is probable, therefore, that this
wras only a spontaneous hydrophobia, especially as it
readily yielded to venesection, 30 drops of laudanum,
and pills of a grain and a half of opium given every
three hours, some boluses of musk and cinnabar, &c.
while in some of the former cases as much opium was
given to a boy as would have deprived of life the
strongest healthy man had he swallowed it j and yet
this amazing quantity produced scarcely any effect.
This patient also dreaded the sight of a dog.
Order IV. VESANEE.
Paranoiac, Fog. Class IX.
Deliria, Sauv. Class VIII. Ord. III. tScrg. Class XL
Ord. III.
Ideales, Lin. Class V. Ord. I.
Genus LXV. AMENTIA.
Folly, .or Idiotism.
Amentia, Sauv. gen. 233. Vog. 337. Sag. 346.
Morosis, Lin. 106.
Stupiditas, Morosis, Fatuitas, Fog. 336.
Amnesia, Sauv. gen. 237. Sag. 347.
Oblivio, Lin. 107. Fog. 338.
Memoriae debilitas, Junck. 120,
Genus LXVI. MELANCHOLIA.
Melancholy Madness.
Melancholia, Sauv. gen. 234. Lin. 71. log. 332.
Sag. 347. Boerh. 1089. Junck. 121.
Daemonomania, Sauv. gen. 236. Sag. 348.
Daemonia, Lin. 69.
Vesania, Lin. 70.
Paraphobia, Lin. 75. .
Athymia, Fog. 329.
Delirium melancholicum, Hoffm. III. 251.
Erotomania, Lin. 82.
Nostalgia, Sauv. gen. 226. Lin. 83. Sag. 338.
Junck. 125.
Melancholia nervea, CL Lorry de melancholia, P. I.
Genus LXVII. MANIA.
Raving or Furious Madness.
Mania, Sauv. gen. 235. Lin. 68. Fog. 331.
325
326
327
Sag.
Boerh. 1118. Junck. 122. Bed tie on Mad-
349
ne s.
Paraphrosyne, Lin, 66,
Amentiaj
Pr
v<
tice. M EDI
jig.. Amentia, Lin. 67,
' Delirium maniacum, Hoffm. III. 251.
Although these distempers may be considered as di¬
stinct genera, yet they are so nearly allied, and so rea¬
dily change into each other, that it sufficiently justifies
the treating all of them together.
The distinguishing characteristic of madness, accord¬
ing to Dr Battie, is a false perception ; and under this
general character may be comprehended all kinds of
whatis called madness, from the most silly stupidity and
idiotism to the most furious lunacy. Frequently the
different kinds of madness are changed into each other
by the casual excitement of some passion : thus, an idiot
may become furiously mad, by being put in a violent
passion j though this does not so often happen as the
change of melancholy into the raving madness, and vice
versa.
It is a very surprising circumstance, that mad people
are not only less liable to be seized with infectious dis¬
orders than those who are in perfect health *, but even
when labouring under other diseases, if the patients
chance to be seized with madness, they are sometimes
freed from their former complaints. Of this kind Dr
Mead relates two very remarkable instances.
On the other hand, it has been known, that an in¬
termittent fever, supervening upon madness of long
standing, has proved a cure for the madness ; the senses
having returned when the fever terminated. Dr Monro
saw two instances of this himself j and mentions it as
an observation made also by his predecessor in the care
of Bethlehem hospital.
Another remarkable circumstance is, that immode¬
rate joy, long continued, as effectually disorders the
mind as anxiety and grief. For it wras observable in
the famous South Sea year, when so many immense
fortunes were suddenly gained, and as suddenly lost,
that more people had their heads turned, from the pro¬
digious flow of unexpected riches, than from the entire
loss of their whole substance.
Mad people, especially of the melancholic kind,
sometimes obstinately persevere in doing things which
must excite great pain j whence it should seem as it
their minds were troubled with some distracting no¬
tions, which make them patiently bear the present dis¬
tress, lest more severe tortures should be inflicted } or
possibly they may think, that, by thus tormenting the
body, they render themselves more acceptable to the
divine Being, and expiate the heinous sins of which
they may imagine themselves to have been guilty.
It is, however, also highly probable that their feel¬
ings differ exceedingly from what they are in a natural
state ; at least they are every day observed to endure,
apparently without the smallest uneasiness, watching,
hunger, and cold, to an extent which in a state of
health would not only be highly distressing, but to the
greater part of individuals would even prove fatal.
And this resistance of hunger, cold, and sleep, affords
perhaps the best test for distinguishing cases of real
insanity, from cases where the disease is only feigned,
and appearances of it put on, to answer particular pur¬
poses ; at least where this power of resistance is present,
•we have good reason to conclude that the affection is
not feigned.
' €ure. Although we be well acquainted with many
CINE. 41
of the remote causes of tins disease, some of the prin- Mania,
cipal of which have already been mentioned, yet we l——y—
are still so ignorant of the influence of these upon the
system, as giving a derangement of the mental facul¬
ties, that no general principles on which the cure
may be conducted, can with any confidence be pointed
out.
It may, however, be observed, that while some reme¬
dies seem to operate by producing an artificial termi ¬
nation of this complaint, many others have effect only
as aiding a natural termination. And where a re¬
covery from this disease does take place, it most fre¬
quently happens in consequence of a natural conva¬
lescence. All the species and degrees of madness
which are hereditary, or that grow up with people from
their early youth, are out of the power of physic ;
and so tor the most part, are all maniacal cases of
more than one year’s standing, from whatever source
they may arise. Very often mere debility, the dregs of
some particular disease, such as an ague, the smal'-pox,
or a nervous fever, shall occasion different degrees of
foolishness or madness. In these cases, the cure must
not be attempted by evacuations j hut, on the contrary,
by nourishing diet, clear air, moderate exercise, and
the use of wine : whereas, in almost all the other ma¬
niacal cases, which arise from different sources, and
which come on in consequence of intemperate living,
violent passions, or intense thinking, it is generally
held, that evacuations of every kind are necessary, un¬
less the constitution of the patient be such as absolutely
forbids them.
Blood is most conveniently drawn either from the
arm or jugulars j and if the weakness be such as ren¬
ders it improper to take away much blood, we may ap¬
ply cupping-glasses to the occiput.
Vomiting, in weakly people, must be excited by the
vinum ipecacuanhse } but in the more robust by emetic
tartar or antimonial wine : the most efficacious cathar¬
tics are the infusion or tincture of black hellebore, or
infusion of senna quickened with tincture ol jalap $ but
if there be suppression of the menses, or of an habitual
hccmorrhoidal discharge, then aloetic purges will be
more proper} and in some instances cooling saline pur¬
gatives, such as lixiviated tartar, are of great service.
In general, mad people require very large doses, both
of the emetics and cathartics, before any considerable
operation ensues.
Dr Monro assures us, that the evacuation by vomit¬
ing is infinitely preferable to any other : the prodigi¬
ous quantity of phlegm with which the patients in
this disease abound, he says, is not to be overcome but
bv repeated emetics j and he observes, that the purges
have not their right effect, or do not operate to so good
purpose, until the phlegm be broken and attenuated
by frequent emetics. He mentions the case of a gentle¬
man who had laboured under a melancholy for three
years, from which he was relieved entirely by the use
of vomits and a proper regimen. Increasing the dis¬
charge by urine, is also of the greatest moment, espe¬
cially when any degree of fever is present. 'I he cuta¬
neous discharges are also to be promoted } for which
purpose the hot bath is of the highest service in mania¬
cal cases. Hoffman asserts, that he has seen numerous
instances, both of inveterate melancholy and raging
madness, happily cured by means of warm bathing;
3 F 2 bleeding
412
Vesaniie. bleeding and nitrous medicines having been premised.
—v—Camphor has also been highly commended j but, if we
can believe Dr Locker of Vienna, not very deservedly.
Having found very good effects from a solution of this
medicine in vinegar, he took it for granted that all the
success was owing to the camphor; therefore, in order
to give it a fair trial, he selected seven patients, and
gave it in large doses of half a dram twice a-day.
This was continued for two months, and the doctor
rvas surprised to find that only one of his patients re¬
ceived any benefit. He then returned the other six
back to the camphorated julep made with vinegar, and
in a few weeks four of them recovered the use of their
reason. This inclined him to think that the virtue de¬
pended solely on the vinegar, and accordingly he began
to make the trial. Common vinegar was first given :
but after a little while he fixed on that which had been
distilled, and gave about an ounce and a half of it every
day ; the patients having been previously prepared by
bleeding and purging, which was repeated according
as it was found necessary. He gives a list of eight pa¬
tients who were cured by this method j some in six
weeks, others in two months, and none of them took
up more than three months in perfecting the cure. He
does not indeed give the ages of the patients, nor men¬
tion the circumstances of the cases} he only mentions
the day on which the use of the vinegar was begun
and the day on which they were discharged ", and he
adds, that they all continued well at the time of his
Writing.
Hr Locker informs us, that this medicine acts chiefly
as a sudorific ; and he observed, that the more the pa¬
tients sweated, the sooner they were cured: it was also
found to promote the menstrual discharge in such as
had been obstructed, or had too little of this salutary
evacuation.
Both reason and experience show the necessity of
confining such as ai'e deprived of their senses’, and no
small share of the management consists in preventing
them from hurting either themselves or others. It has
x sometimes been usual to chain and to beat them : but
this is both cruel and absurd since the contrivance cal¬
led the strait waistcoat answers every purpose of re¬
straining without hurting them.
These waistcoats are made of ticken, or some such
strong stuff j are open at the back, and laced on like
a pair of stays $ the sleeves are made tight, and long
enough to cover the ends of the fingers, where they
are drawn close with a string like a pux-se mouth,
by which contrivance the patient has no power of his
fingers j and when laid on his back in bed, and the
arms brought across the chest, and fastened in that posi¬
tion by tying the sleeve-strings round the waist, he has
no use of his hands. A broad strap of girth-web is then
carried across the breast, and fastened to the bedstead,
by which means the patient is confined on his back ;
and if he should be so outrageous as to require further
restraint, the legs are secured by ligatures to the foot
of the bed j or they may be secured by being both
put into one bag not very wide, which, may be more
easily fixed than the feet themselves, at least without
giving pain.
It is of great use in practice to bear in mind, that
ail mad people are cowardly, and can be awed even by
the menacing look of a very expressive countenance 5
Prattle,
and when those who have charge of them once impress M .
them with the notion of fear, they easily submit to any '
thing that is required. The physician, however,
should never deceive them in any thing, but more espe¬
cially with regard to their distemper : for as they are
generally conscious ot it themselves, they acquire a
kind of reverence for those who know it j and by
letting them see that he is thoroughly acquainted with
their complaint, he may very often gain such an ascen¬
dant over them that they will readily follow his direc¬
tions.
It is a more difficult matter to manage those whose
madness is * accompanied either with excessive joy or
with great dejection and despondency, than those
who are agitated with rage : and all that can be done
is to endeavour to excite contrary ideas, by repressing
the immoderate fits of laughter in the one kind by chi¬
ding or threatening (taking care, however, not abso¬
lutely to terrify them, which can never be done’without
danger, and has often added to the misery of the un¬
happy sufferer) j and dispelling the gloomy thoughts iu
the other, by introducing pleasing concerts of music,
or any other species of entertainment which the pa¬
tients have been known to delight in while they had the
use of their reason. Upon the whole, in the cure of
insanity, more is perhaps to be effected by moral than
by medical treatment. And this moral treat meat should
be as gentle as is consistent with safety. Chains, bolts,
and severity of every kind are to be avoided as much
as possible. But while great benefit is often derived
from company and amusement, so also, on the other
hand, solitary confinement is in not a few cases produc¬
tive of the best effects.
Though blistering the head has generally been
directed, Hr Mead says he has oftener found it to do
harm than service: but he recommends issues in the
back j and advises to keep the head always close
shaved, and to wash it from time to time with warm
vinegar. Opium has by many been forbidden in ma¬
niacal cases, from a supposition that it always increases
the disturbance j but there are instances where large
doses of this medicine have been found to prove a cure,
and perhaps if it were tried oftener we should find
powerful effects from it: there certainly cannot much
harm ensue from a few doses, which may be immedi¬
ately disused if they should be found to exasperate the
disease.
The diet of maniacal patients ought to he perfectly
light and thin: their meals should be moderate 5 but
they should never be suffered to live too low, especially
while they are under a course of physic : they should
be obliged to observe. great regularity in their hours:
even their amusements should be such as are best suited
to their disposition. After the disease appears to be
subdued, chalybeate waters and the cold bath will be
highly proper to strengthen their whole frame and se¬
cure them against a relapse.
Genus LXVIII. ONEIRODYNIA. 1
Uneasiness in Sleep.
Somnium, Vog. 339.
Somnambulismus, Sauv. gen..221. Lin. 77- $a£'
333-
Hypnobatasis, Vog. 340.
MEDICINE.
Noctambulatio,
Pra
Man
MEDICINE.
ice.
,s Noctambulatio, Junck. I 24.
-J Ephialtes, Sauv. gen. 138. Lin. 163. Sag. 245.
Incubus, Fog. 221. Junck. 50.
The greatest uneasiness which people feel in sleep is
that commonly called the incubus or night-mare. Those
seized with it seem to have a weight on their breasts
and about their praecordia. Sometimes they imagine
thev see spectres of various kinds which oppress or
threaten them with suffocation. Neither does this
uneasiness continue only while they are asleep j for it
is some time after they awake before they can turn
themselves in their beds or speak-, nay, sometimes,
though rarely, the distemper has proved mortal.—The
incubus rarely seizes people except when the stomach
is oppressed with aliments of hard digestion, and the
patient lies on his back. It is to be cured by eating
light suppers, and raising the head high ; or, if it be¬
come very troublesome, antispasmodic medicines are to
be administered, and the body strengthened by chaly-
beates. The same method is to be followed by those
who are subject to walking in their sleep ; a practice
which must necessarily be attended with the greatest
danger, and somnambulism may justly be considered
as merely a different modification of this disease. Ac¬
cordingly Dr Cullen has distinguished the one by the
title of oneirodynia activa, and the other by that of
oneirodynia gravans.
Class III. CACHEXLE.
Cachexia?, Sauv. Class X. and Class VIII. Sag.
Class III.
Deformes, Lin. Class X.
Order I. MARCORES.
Macies, Sauv. Class X. Order I. Sag. Class III.
Order I.
Emaciantes, Lin. Class X. Order I.
Genus LXIX. TABES.
Wasting of the Body.
Tabes, Sauv. gen. 275. Lin. 209. Fog. 306. Sag.
100.
This disorder is occasioned by the absorption of pus
from some ulcer, external or internal, which produces
an hectic fever. The primary indication therefore must
be to heal the ulcer, and thus take away the cause of
the disease. If the ulcer cannot be healed, the patient
will certainly die in an emaciated state. But the pro¬
per treatment of the tabes proceeding from this cause,
falls to be considered under the head of Ulcer in Sur¬
gery, and likewise under the genera Siphylis, Scro¬
fula, Scorbutus, &c. diseases in which ulcers are
at least a very common symptom.
Genus LXX. ATROPHIA.
Nervous Consumption
Description. This affection consists principally in a
wasting of the body, without any remarkable fever,
cough, or difficulty of breathing j but attended with
Want of appetite and a had digestion, whence the
2
whole body grows languid, and wastes by degrees.-—
Dr Cullen, however, asserts, that some degree of fe¬
ver, or at least of increased quickness of the pulse, al¬
ways attends this disease.
Causes. Sometimes this distemper will come on
without any evident cause. Sometimes it will arise
from passions of the mind j from an abuse of spirituous
liquors j from excessive evacuations, especially of the
semen, in which case the distemper has got the name
of tabes dorsalis. It may arise from mere old age, or
from famine.
Prognosis. This distemper, from whatever cause it
may arise, is very difficult to cure, and often terminates
in a fatal dropsy.
Cure. The general principles on which the treat¬
ment of this disease is to be regulated, very much de¬
pend on the cause by which it is induced *, and it is
unnecessary to add, that this must be removed as far as
possible. Next to this, the disease is most effectually
combated by the introduction of nutritious aliment into
the system, and by obtaining the proper assimilation
and digestion of this. With the first of these intentions,
recourse must be had to the diet which is most nutri¬
tious, and at the same time of easiest digestion. But
from the condition of the stomach commonly attending
this disease, it is necessary that small quantities only
should be taken at a time, and that it should be fre¬
quently repeated. With the second intention, stomachic
and nervous medicines are the articles chiefly at least to
be depended upon in this case. The Peruvian bark,
sulphuric acid, and chalybeates, are excellent j and these
should be conjoined with gentle exercise, as far as the
strength and other circumstances of the patient will ad¬
mit. In that species of the distemper occasioned by ve¬
nereal excesses, it is so essentially necessary to abstain
from them, that without it the best remedies will prove
altogether useless.
Order II. Il^TUMESCENTITE.
Intumescentise, Sauv. Class X. Ord. II. Sag. Class
TIT. Ord II.
Tumidosi, Lin. Class X. Ord. II.
Genus LXXI. POLYSARCIA.
Corpulency.
Polysarcia, Sauv. gen. 279. Ltn. 213. Fog. 540.
Sag. 160. Steatites, Fog. 390.
In a natural and healthy state, the fat, or animal oil,
is not allowed to diffuse itself throughout the cellular
interstices at large, but is confined to the places where
such an oily fluid is necessary, by a particular apparatus
of distinct vesicles. But in some constitutions the oily
part of the blood appeal's to exceed the requisite pro¬
portion, and easily separates from the other constituent
parts; or there is an uncommon tendency to the sepa¬
ration of oily matter. In these cases it is apt to accu¬
mulate in such quantities, that we may suppose it to
burst those vesicles which were originally' destined to
hinder it from spreading too far j or iilmost every cell
of the membrana adiposa, many of which are in 01 di-
nary cases altogether empty, may be completely filled
and distended with fat.
The increase of the omentum particularly, and the
accumulation
413
Atrophia.
334
335
4*4
Intumcs- accumulation of fat about tlie kidneys and mesentery,
eentiae. swell the abdomen, and obstruct the motions ol the
' v-—-' diaphragm •, whence one reason of the difficulty of
breathing which is peculiar to corpulent people ; while
the heart, and the large vessels connected with it, are
in like manner so encumbered, that neither the systal¬
tic nor subsuitory motion can be performed with suf¬
ficient freedom, whence weakness and .slowness of the
pulse : but when the whole habit is in a manner
overwhelmed with an oily fluid, the enlargement of the
cellular interstices will necessarily interrupt the general
distribution and circulation throughout the nervous and
vascular systems j impeding the action of the muscu¬
lar fibres, and producing insensibility, somnolency, and
death. .
These Cases are the more deplorable, as there is but
little prospect of a cure. For the animal oil is of too
gross a nature to be easily taken Up by absorption }
and we know, that when fluids are accumulated <n the
cellular system, there are only two rvays ifi which ti.ey
can be carried off or escape ; namely, by the absor¬
bents, which take their rise from the cellular intei-
stices, and through the pores ot the skin by transuda-
tion. . ,
Another misfortune is, that the disease steals on so
imperceptibly, that it beebmes inveterate before people
begin to tbink of pursuing the proper means of relief.
In this disease the cure must turn upon two points :
First, on preventing the farther deposition of fat, by
avoiding the introduction of superfluous aliment, par¬
ticularly of fatty matters, into the system •, and, se¬
condly, on promoting and forwarding the absorption of
fat. On these grounds, besides what may be done by
proper regimen, a variety of articles have been recom-
W mended in the way of medicine.
Soap has been proposed as a remedy to melt down
- and facilitate the absorption of the fat in corpulent
people •, and Dr Fleming some years ago published a
little treatise, wherein he recommends this medicine,
, and relates the case of a gentleman who is said to have
received considerable benefit from it. But perhaps the
soap-leys would be more powerful, and might be more
easily taken, sheathed in the manner directed when used
as a dissolvent of the stone.
Lieutaud advises to take acetum scillihcum in small
doses, with frequent purging and brisk exercise. But
it will seldom happen that the patients will be found
sufficiently steady to persist in any of these courses, it
being the nature of the disorder to render them irreso-
• lute and inattentive to their condition. Therefore the
principal use of rules must be with a view to preven¬
tion ; and persons who are disposed to corpulency should
take care in time to prevent it from becoming an ab¬
solute disease by using a great deal of exercise, not
indulging in sleep, and abridging their meals, especially
that of supper. Salted meats are less fattening than
such as are fresh *, and drinking freely of coffee is re¬
commended to corpulent people.
But Dr Fothergill observes, that a strict adherence
to vegetable diet reduces exuberant fat more certainly
than any other means that he knows ; and gives two
cases in which this regimen succeeded remarkably wrell.
The famous Dr Cheyne brought himself down in this
way, from a most unwieldy bulk to a reasonable de-
t gree of weight j as he himself informs us. It deserves,
Pract l(
however, to be remarked, that every practice for the pnei
removal or prevention of fatness must be used with great to> *
caution and prudence j for not a few, anxious to pre-v'““w '
vent this affection, have had recourse to a regimen and
rto medicine which have proved fatal. This has parti¬
cularly arisen from the excessive use of acids, probably
‘operating by entirely destroying the action of the chy-
lopoietic viscera.
Genus LXXII. PNEUMATOSIS. M
Emphysema, or Windy Swelling.
Pneumatosis, Scmv. gen. 280. Fog. 391. Sag.io*].
Emphysema, Sauv. gen. 13. Lin. 288. Log. 392.
Leucophlegmatia, Lin. 214.
The emphysema sometimes comes on spontaneously;
but more frequently is occasioned by wounds of the
lungs, which, giving vent to the air, that fluid insinu¬
ates itself into the cellular texture, and often blows it
up to a surprising degree. It must be observed, however,
that it is only in cases of laceration of the lungs where
this disease can take place} for in a simple wound, the
effusion of blood always prevents the air from getting
out. The cure is to be accomplished by scarifications
and compresses 5 but in some cases only by the para¬
centesis of the thorax. When air introduced from the
lungs is collected in a considerable quantity in the
cavity of the thorax, the operation of the paracentesis
is perhaps the only means of cure. Upon an opening
being thus made, the air sometimes rushes out with in¬
credible violence ; and the patient receives at least im¬
mediate relief from circumstances the most distressing
imaginable. In some instances it is followed even by
a complete cure.
Genus LXXIII. TYMPANITES. | |
4 Tympany.
Tympanites, Sauv. gen. 291. Lin. 219. Fog. 316.
Sag. 118. Boerh. 226. Junck. 87.
Affectio tympanitica, Hoffm. III. 339-
Meteorismus, Sauv. gen. 292.
This is an inflation of the abdomen, and is of two
kinds : 1. That in which the flatus is contained in the
intestines, in which the patient has frequent explo¬
sions of wind, w ith a swelling of the belly commonly
unequal. 2. When the flatus is contained in the cavity
of the abdomen j in which case the swelling is more
equal, and the belly sounds when struck, without any
considerable emission of flatus. Of these two, however,
the former disease is by much the most common j in¬
somuch, that many, even extensively engaged in prac¬
tice, have never met with an instance of true abdomi¬
nal tympanites. In both cases the rest of the body
falls away. . .
Causes, &c. The tympany sometimes takes place in
those who have been long troubled with flatulencies in
the stomach and intestines. It happens frequently to
women after abortion} to both sexes after the suppres¬
sion of the haemorrhoids *, and sometimes from tedious
febrile disorders injudiciously treated.
Prognosis. This disease is generally very obstinate,
and for the most part proves fatal by degenerating in*
MEDICINE.
Pra
Intel1
cent
i-ry
ri
iti,
ij.
ice.
M E D I
to an ascites. Sometimes, if the patient be healthy
and strong, the disease may terminate favourably, and
■J that the more readily if it has followed from some dis¬
order. A beetle consumption, dry cough, and ema¬
ciated countenance in a tympany, with a swelling of
the feet, denote approaching death in a very short time.
Cure. With a view to the prevention of this af¬
fection, it is necessary, in the first place, to avoid, as
far as it can be done, causes giving rise to an uncom¬
mon extrication of air, by preserving the proper tone
of the alimentary canal. After the affection has taken
place, the indications are, first, to expel the air al¬
ready extricated and confined in different cavities j
and, secondly, to prevent further accumulation. On
these grounds different remedies are employed. The
cure, however, is principally attempted by carmina¬
tive, resolvent, and stomachic medicines, gentle laxa¬
tives, and at last tonics, especially chalybeates. In
the Edinburgh Medical Essays, vol. i. we have a very
remarkable history of a tympany by Dr Monro senior.
The patient was a young woman of 22 years of age,
who fell into the distemper after a tertian ague, in
which she was badly treated. She became a patient
in the Edinburgh Infirmary the 24th of March 1730 \
took several purgatives, and some doses of calomel j
used the warm bath •, and had an antihysteric plaster
applied over the whole belly, but with very little effect.
She was monstrously distended, insomuch that the skin
seemed to be in danger of bursting : her breathing wras
much straitened : but the swelling sometimes gradually
decreased without any evacuation. The returns and
degree of this swelling were very uncertain j and when
the belly was most detumefied, several unequal and pro¬
tuberant balls could be felt over the whole abdomen,
but especially at its sides. Her stomach was good, she
had no thirst, and her urine was in proportion to the
quantity she drank. She was very costive, had her
menses at irregular periods, but no oedematous swell¬
ings appeared in the feet or any where else. In this
situation she continued from the time of her admission
till the 21 st of June, during which interval she had
only menstruated twice. Throughout the space of time,
the following circumstances were observed, 1. Several
times, upon the falling of the swelling, she complained
of a headach ; once of pains throughout all her body,
once of a giddiness, twice of a nausea and vomiting,
and the last time threw up green bile j and once her
stomach swelled greatly, whilst the rest of the abdomen
subsided. 2. During the flowing of the menses she did
not swell, but became very big upon their stopping.
3. Blood-letting and emetics, which were made use of
for some accidental urgent symptoms, bad no very sen¬
sible effect in making the tvmpany either better or
Worse. 4. She never had passage of wind either way,
except a little belching some days before the, monthly
evacuation.
Some time before the last eruption of the menses,
the purgatives were given more sparingly-, and anti¬
hysterics of the strongest kinds, such as asafoetida,
oleum corn. cerv. &c. mixed with soap, were given in
Jarge doses, accompanied with the hotter antiscorbutics
as they are called, as horseradish and ginger-root in¬
fused in strong-ale with steel. The patient was order¬
ed to use frequent and strong frictions to all the trunk
©f her body and extremities, and to use moderate .exer-
C I N E.
4i5
else. Immediately before the menses began to flow-, Phjsome-
elysters of the same kind of medicines wei'e injected. tra.
T he menses were in sufficient quantity *, but as soon as ' ' ' V" 1 '
they ceased, her belly increased in its circumference
four inches and a half, but soon subsided. She then
complained of pains, which a gentle sweat carried off.
Borborygmi were for the first time observed on the same
day, June 25th j and having taken some tinctura sacra
at night, she passed a small quantity of blood next day
by stool. This was the first appearance of the return
of the haemorrhoids, to which she had been formerly
subject.
The twro following days her saponaceous, antihy¬
steric, and antiscorbutic medicines being still conti¬
nued, she had such explosions of wind upwards and
downwards, that none of the other patients would re¬
main in the same room, nay scarce on the same floor
with her. Her belly became less and softer than it
had been from the first attack of the disease j her me¬
dicines, with a dose of syrup of buckthorn at proper
intervals, still wTere continued, only the proportion of
steel was increased 3 her flatulent discharge went on
successfully, and she gradually recovered her former
health.
Genus LXXIV. PHYSOMETRA.
Windy Swelling of the Uterus.
Physometra, Sauv. gen. 290. Sag. 119.
Hysterophyse, Vog. 317.
The treatment of this is not different from that of
the tympany. It is however, upon the w'hole, a very
rare disease j and when it takes place, very seldom if
ever admits of a cure.
Genus LXXV. ANASARCA.
Watery Swelling over the Whole Body.
Anasarca, Sauv. gen. 281. Lin. 2\$. Vog. 313.
Sag. 108. Boei'fi. 122$. Hoffm. III. 322. Junck.
87. Monro on the Dropsy. Millman Animad-
versiones de hydrope 1779*
Phlegmatia, Sauv. gen. 282.
Angina aquosa, Boerh. 791.
In this disease the feet first begin to swell, espe¬
cially in the evening, after exercise, and when the pa¬
tient has stood or sat long 3 this swelling rises fre¬
quently to the thighs. By lying in bed, the swelling
becomes less, or even almost disappears. In the pro¬
gress of the disease, the swelling often rises to the hips,
loins, and belly, and at last covers the whole body.
This disease, besides the other symptoms afterwards
mentioned under Ascites, is attended with a remark¬
able difficulty of breathing. In the cure of this, as
well as other species of dropsy, the general intentions
are, first, the evacuation of the water already effused
either by natural or artificial outlets: and, secondly,
the prevention of fresh accumulation, which is chiefly
to be expected from supporting a due action of the ab¬
sorbents, and from keeping up a proper discharge by
the serous excretories.
The remedies employed with these intentions are
much the same with what are employed against the
more
MEDICINE
340
more Important genus of ascites. Only it may be here
noticed, that, in anasarca it has by many been recom¬
mended to scarify the feet and legs. By tins means the.
water is often discharged ; but the operator must be
Cautious not to make the incisions too deep } they ought
barely to penetrate through the skin ; and special care
must be taken, by spirituous fomentations and proper
digestives, to prevent a gangrene. Dr FothergiU 00-
serves, that the safest and most efficacious way ot mak¬
ing these drains is by the instrument used tor cupping,
called a scarificator ; and he always orders it to be so
applied as to' make the little wounds transversely •, as
they not only discharge better, but are also longer m
healing, than when made longitudinally.
Notwithstanding every precaution, however, gan¬
grene will often ensue 5 and it is upon the whole a
much safer practice to evacuate the water by the na¬
tural outlets, the valvular lymphatic absorbents ; and
with this intention emetics and cathartics, but particu¬
larly diuretics, are often employed with success.
Genus LXXVI. HY DROCEPHALUS.
Water in the Head.
External or Chronic Hydrocephalus.
Hydrocephalus, tStzwu. gen. 285* Lin. 2x6. Boon.
1217.
Hydrocephalum, Vog. 384.
This differs from the hydrocephalus formerly treat¬
ed of at some length under the title of Apoplexia Hy-
drocephalica, chiefly in the water being collected in
the external parts of the head, whereas the former is
entirely within the skull. In the fifth volume of the
Medical Observations we have an account ot a very ex¬
traordinary case of this kind. The patient was a chikl
only of a few days old, and had a tumor on his head
about the size of a common tea-cup, which had the
appearance of a bladder distended with water 5 near
the apex was a small opening, through which a bloody
serum was discharged. In other respects the child was
healthy. No application was used but a piece of linen
dipt in brandy. The tumor continued to increase
for many months; at the end of which time the mem¬
brane containing the water appeared equally thick with
the other part of the scalp, except at one place about
the size of a shilling, which continued thin, and at
times appeared as if it would burst. He remained
in this situation for about 17 months, when the cir¬
cumference of the head was 20 inches, the base i6g-,
the middle 18*-, and from the base to the apex near 8-£.
The water was then drawn off, and the child died in
two days. Almost all other cases of this distemper
have proved fatal j the sutures of the skull generally
give way, and the whole external part of the head is
equally enlarged: but in the instance just now given
there was a deficiency of part of the bones. Although,
however, in some instances, where the head is thus en¬
larged to an enormous size, the water is exterior to
the brain, and therefore entitled to the appellation of
hydrocephalus exterior, yet much more frequently in
those instances where there is a manifest separation of
the bones of the cranium at the sutures, the water is
still contained within the ventricles j and accordingly
the disease may be much more properly distinguished
Practic
into the acute and chronic hydrocephalus, than as is Hv()r
commonly done into the internal and external. Al¬
though the latter be much slower in its progress, some¬
times subsisting even for years, yet it is equally difficult
of cure with the former, and very often it proves fatal
in a few days if the water be drawn off by an artificial
opening, which may be very easily performed by a mere
puncture with a common lancet, without either pain or
any immediate hazard from the operation itself, although
the water be lodged in the ventricles } for these are dis¬
tended to an enormous size, and the substance of the
brain almost totally destroyed, so that hardly any thing
is to be punctured but membrane.
Genus LXXVII. HYDRORACHITIS.
Spina Bifida.
341
Hydrorachitis, Sauv. gen,
XII. 9. et seq.
Spinola, Lin. 289.
Spina bifida, Vog. 386.
287. Morgagn. de sed.
This disease, which consists in a soft tumor on the
lumbar vertebree, attended with a separation of the ver-
tebne themselves, though generally considered as ap¬
proaching to the nature of rachitis, is commonly referred
to the article Surgery, which may be consulted with
regard to this aflection.
Genus LXXVIII. HYDROTHORAX.
Dropsy of the Breast.
342
Hydrothorax, Sauv. gen. 150. Vog. 311. Boerh.
1219.
This affection, particularly with respect to its causes,
is in many circumstances similar to other kinds of
dropsy, particularly to ascites. But from the situation
of the water, which is here deposited in the cavity
of the thorax, it may naturally be supposed that some
peculiar symptoms will occur. Besides the common
symptoms of dropsy, paleness of the countenance,
scarcity of urine, and the like, this disease is, in some
instances, attended with a fluctuation of water within
the breast; which, when it does occur, may be consi¬
dered as a certain distinguishing mark of this affection.
But besides this, it is also distinguished by the remark¬
able affections of circulation and respiration with winch
it is attended.
The breathing is peculiarly difficult, especially in a
recumbent posture 4 and in many instances patients
cannot breathe with tolerable ease, unless when sitting
erect, or even stooping somewhat forwards. Die pu se
is very irregular, and has often remarkable intermissions.
But the disease has been thought to be principally cha¬
racterized by a sudden starting from sleep, m conse
quence of an almost inexpressible uneasy sensation re¬
ferred to the breast, and attended with strong palpita¬
tion, which may probably arise from an aflection eit icr
of circulation or of respiration. ‘ .
That these symptoms are common attendants of
disease, is undeniable 5 and they are certainly the es^
characteristics of this affection with which we are ye
acquainted : but it must be allowed that they are pie
sent in some cases where there is no water inthebreas^?
P) ■tice. M E I) I
t es_ and that in other instances where the disease exists,
”tL. they are either altogether wanting, or occur only to a
^ / very slight degree. Certain diagnostics, therefore, of
this disease still remain to be discovered.
When hydrothorax is present, from the affection of
the vital functions with which it is attended, it may
readily be concluded that it is a dangerous disease,
and in many instances it proves fatal. The cure, as far
as it can be accomplished, is obtained very much on
the same principles as in other dropsies. Here, how¬
ever, probably from the uncertainty of the diagnostics,
the artificial abstraction of water, by paracentesis of
the thorax, is less frequently had recourse to than in
ascites $ though in some instances, after other means
have failed, it has been said not only to give relief of
symptoms highly urgent, particularly dyspnoea, but
even to produce a complete cure. Benefit is often ob¬
tained from an artificial discharge of water by the ap¬
plication of blisters to the breast: but in this, as well
as other dropsies, a discharge is chiefly effected by the
natural outlets, particularly from the use of cathartics
and diuretics. In this species of dropsy, more perhaps
than in any other, recourse has been had to the use of
the digitalis purpurea, or foxglove, so strongly recom-
tnended as a diuretic by Hr Withering in his treatise
respecting the use of it. There can be no doubt that
this article, though sometimes productive of inconveni¬
ence from the distressing sickness and severe vomiting
which it not unfrequently excites, though used even hut
in small doses, often operates as a powerful diuretic,
and produces a complete evacuation of water, after
other articles have failed. From the effects mentioned
above, however, as well as from its influence on the
pulse, which it renders much slower, it is necessary that
it should be employed with great caution, and in small
doses. A dram of the dried leaves of the digitalis,
macerated for four hours in half a pint of warm
water, forms an infusion which may be given in doses
of an ounce, and the dried powder of the leaves in
doses of one or two grains: these doses may be gra¬
dually increased, and repeated twice or oftener in the
day; but this requires to be done with great caution,
lest severe vomiting, or other distressing symptoms,
should take place.
3 Genus LXXIX. ASCITES.
Dropsy of the Abdomen,
Ascites, Sauv. gen. 288. Lin. 217. Yog- 3I4*
Sag. gen. 115. Bocrh. 1226. Hojf'm. III. 322.
Junck. 87. Dr Monro on the Hropsy, 176
Aff/waw, Animadversiones de Hydropc, 1779.
Description. This disease assumes three different
forms: 1. When the water immediately washes the in¬
testines. 2. When it is interposed between the abdo¬
minal muscles and peritonaeum. Or, 3. W hen it is con¬
tained in sacs and hollow vesicles: in which case it is
called the encysted dropsy. Some physicians of great
reputation have asserted, that the water was often
placed within the duplicature of the peritomeum: hut
ihis is alleged by Hr Milman to he a mistake, as that
membrane is looked upon by the best anatomists to he
single; and he thinks that the above-mentioned physi¬
cians have been led into this error from observing the
Vol. XHI. Part IL t
CINE. 417
water collected in the cellular substance of the perito- Ascites
naum. . ■»
In the beginning of an ascites the patient becomes
languid, breathless, and has an aversion to motion :
his belly swells; and, when struck, the sound of fluc¬
tuating water is perceptible ; there is a difficulty of
breathing when the belly is pressed. There is an al¬
most continual thirst, which in the progress of the dis¬
ease becomes very urgent; the urine is thick, in small
quantity, and high coloured. The pulse is small and
frequent; and as the belly swells, the other parts waste
away. A fever at last arises, which constantly increas¬
ing, in the end carries oft’ the patient. These symp¬
toms are most urgent where the waters are in immediate
contact with the intestines; in the other kinds the rest
of the body is less wasted ; nor is there so great thirst
or difficulty of breathing.
Causes, &c. The immediate cause of dropsy is a
greater eflusion of scrum by the exhalant arteries than,
the absorbents take up. This may he occasioned either
by too great a quantity of liquid thrown out by the
former, or by an inability of the latter to perform their
office. This commonly happens in people whose bodies
are of a weak and lax texture, and hence women are
more subject to this malady than men ; chlorotic girls
especially are very apt to become dropsical.
Sometimes, however, this disease is occasioned by a
debility of the vital powers, by great evacuations of
blood, or by acute diseases accidentally protracted
beyond their usual period ; and although this cause
seems very different from a laxity of fibres, yet the
dropsy seems to be produced in a similar manner by
both. For the vital powers being debilitated by ei¬
ther of these causes, naturally bring on a certain de¬
bility and laxity of the solids ; and, on the other hand,
a debility of the solids always brings on a debility of
the vital powers 5 and from this debility of the vital
powers in both cases it happens, that those humours
which ought to be expelled from the body are not dis¬
charged, but accumulate by degrees in its cavities.
There is, however, this difference between the two
kinds of dropsy arising from these two different causes:
That in the one which arises from laxity, the solid parts
are more injured than in that which arises from a debi¬
lity of the vital powers. In the former, therefore, the
water seems to flow out from every quarter, and the
body swells all over. But when the disease is occasion¬
ed by a debility of the vital powers, though the solids
be less diseased, yet the power of the heart being much
diminished, and the humours scarce propelled through
the extreme vessels, the thin liquids, by which in a
healthy state the body is daily recruited, are carried
by their own weight either into the cavities or into. .
the cellular texture. Hence those aqueous eflusions -
which follow great evacuations of blood, or violent
loosenesses, begin in the more depending partsjof the
body, gradually ascending, till they arrive at the cavity
of the abdomen, or even the thorax. ; :
But another and much more sufficient cause for the ..
production of dropsy is an obstruction of the circula-
tion ; and this may take place from polypi in the heart . v
or large yessels, and bard swellings in the abdpnjen.
Instances have been observed of a dropsy arising from
steatomatous tumors in the omentum, and many more
from a scirrhous liver or spleen, and from an in fare-
3 G tioti
4iS ■ M E D I
Intumcs- lion and obstruction of the mesenteric glands, by which
cent be. means the lymph coming from the extremities is pre-
' ^ vented from arriving at the heart. Scirrhosity of the
liver, the most common cause of ascites, probably
operates by augmenting effusion, in consequence of its
preventing the return of the venous blood, the greater
part of the veins from the abdomen going to the forma¬
tion of the vena portatum.
Lastly, Whatever, either within or without the ves¬
sels, contracts or shuts up their cavities, produces a
more copious and easy transmission of the thin humours
through the exhalant arteries, at the same time that it
prevents their return by the absorbent veins. This
has been established by experiment: For Lower hav¬
ing perforated the right side of the thorax in a dog,
tied the vena cava, and sewed up the wound. The ani¬
mal languished for a few hours, and then died. On
dissection, a great quantity of serum was found in the
abdomen, as if he had long laboured under an ascites.
In like manner, having tied the jugular veins of another
dog, a surprising swelling took place in those parts
above the ligatures, and in two days the animal died.
On dissection, all the muscles and glands were vastly
distended, and quite pellucid, with limpid serum. From
these experiments, and some cases of the disease men¬
tioned by different authors, it appears, that when the
veins are obstructed so that they cannot receive the ar¬
terial blood, the serum is separated as by a filtre into
the more open cavities and laxer parts of the body,
while the thicker part stagnates and is collected in the
proper blood-vessels.
The too great tenuity of the humours is very fre¬
quently accused as the cause of dropsy, and many au¬
thors have asserted that dropsy might arise merely from
a superabundance of water in the blood. For this,
some experiments are quoted, from which they would
infer, that when a great quantity of aqueous fluid is in¬
troduced into the blood, the superfluous fluid ought by
no means to pass through the extremities of the sangui¬
ferous arteries into the veins in the common coarse of
circulation, but by being effused into the cavities should
produce a dropsy. But this can only happen when the
vital powers are very much diminished ; for, in a natu¬
ral state, the superfluous quantity is immediately thrown
out by the skin or the kidneys: and agreeable to this
we have an experiment of Schultzius, who induced a
dropsy in a dog by causing him drink a great quantity
of water} but he had first bled him almost ad dcliquium,
so that the vital powers were in a manner oppressed by
the deluge of water. In this manner do those become
hydropic who are seized with the disease on drinking
large quantities of water either when wearied with la¬
bour, or weakened by some kinds of diseases. Dr Fo-
thergiil relates an instance of a person who, being ad¬
vised to drink plentifully of barley-water, in order to
remove a fever, rashly drunk 12 pounds of that liquor
«very day for a mouth, and thus fell into an almost in¬
curable dropsy. But if this quantity had been taken
only during the prevalence of the fever, he would iu
all probability, have suffered no inconvenience, as may
he inferred from wrhat has been related concerning the
dwta aquea used by the Italians.
It is moreover evident from experiments, that, in a
healthy state, not only water is not deposited in the ca¬
vities, but that if it is injected into them it will be ab-
C I N E. Practice
sorbed, unless some laxity of the solids has already Ascites,
taken place. Dr Musgrave injected into the right side
of the thorax of a dog four ounces of warm water j
whence a difficulty of breathing and weakness immedi¬
ately followed. But these symptoms continually lessen¬
ed, and in the space of a week the animal seemed to be
in as good health as before. Afterwards he injected
16 ounces of warm water into the left cavity of the tho¬
rax in the same dog 5 the same effects followed, toge¬
ther with great heat, and strong pulsation of the heart j
hut he again recovered in the space of a week. Lastly,
He injected 18 ounces of water into one side of the tho¬
rax, and only six into the other: the same symptoms
followed, but vanished in a much shorter time } for
within five days the dog wras restored to perfect health.
During this time, however, he observed that the dog
made a greater quantity of urine than usual.
The remote causes of dropsy are many and various.
Whatever relaxes the solids in such a manner as to give
an occasion of accumulation to the serous fluids, dispo¬
ses to the dropsy. A lazy indolent life, rainy wet wea¬
ther, a swampy or low soil, and every thing which con¬
duces to vitiate the viscera, or insensibly to produce ob¬
structions in them, paves the way for a dropsy. Hence
those are ready to fall into the disease who use hard and
viscid aliments, such as poor people in some countries
who use coarse brown bread, and children who are fed
with unwholesome aliments j and the same thing hap¬
pens to those who drink immoderately of spirituous li¬
quors.
Prognosis. When the dropsy arises from a scirrhus
of the liver or spleen, or any of the other viscera, the
prognosis must always be unfavourable, and also when
it arises from disorders of the lungs. Neither is the
case more favourable to those in whom the small vessels
are ruptured, and pour out their liquids into the cavity
of the abdomen. Those certainly die who have polypi
in the vessels, or tumors compressing the veins and ves¬
sels of the abdomen. A dropsy arising from obstruc¬
tions in the mesenteric glands is likewise difficult to
cure, whether such obstructions arise from a bad habit
of body, or from any other cause } if we can, however,
by any means remove the disease of the glands, the
dropsy soon ceases. But in those who fall into dropsy
without any disease preceding, it is not quite so dan¬
gerous •, and even though a disease has preceded, if the
patient’s strength he not greatly weakened, if the respi¬
ration be free, and the person be not affected with any
particular pain, we may entertain great hopes of a cure.
But where a great loss of blood is followed by a fever,
and that by a dropsy, the patients almost always die,
and that in a short time : those, however, are very fre¬
quently cured wlio fall into this disease without any
preceding haemorrhage.
Cure. In the cure of this disease authors chiefly
mention two indications : 1. To expel the effused wa¬
ter } and, 2. To prevent its being again collected.
But before we proceed to speak of the remedies, it is
necessary to take notice, that by the law's of the ani¬
mal economy, if a great evacuation of a fluid takes
place in any part of the body, all the other fluids in
the. body are directed towards that part, and those
which lie, as it were, lurking in different parts will be
immediately absorbed, and thrown out by the same
passage. Hence the humours which in hydropic per¬
sons
actice.
umes. sons are extravasated into the different cavities of the
utiae. body will be thrown into the intestines, and evacuated
by purgatives j or by diuretics will be thrown upon the
kidneys, and evacuated by urine. It is, however, not
only necessary to excite these evacuations in order to re¬
move this malady, but they must be assiduously promo¬
ted and kept up till the abundant humour is totally ex¬
pelled. For this reason Sydenham has advised purga¬
tives to be administered every day, unless, either
through the too great weakness of the body, or the vio¬
lent operation of the purgative, it shall be necessary to
interpose a day or two now and then } because if any
considerable intervals be allowed to take place between
tire exhibition of the purgatives, an opportunity is given
to the waters of collecting again. In this method, how¬
ever, there is the following inconvenience, that, when
the waters are totally evacuated, the strength is at the
same time so much exhausted, that the distemper com¬
monly returns in a very short time. Hence our chief
hopes of curing a dropsy consist in gently evacuating
the waters by means of diuretics. But the efficacy of
these is generally very doubtful. Dr Freind has long
ago observed, that this part of medicine is of all others
the most lame and imperfect; but a French physician,
Mr Bacher, lately discovered, as he alleges, a method
of making the diuretics much more successful. His re¬
putation became at last so great, that the French king
thought proper to purchase his secret for a great sum of
money. The basis of his medicine was the black hel¬
lebore root, the malignant qualities of which he pre¬
tended to correct in the following manner : A quantity
of the dried roots of black hellebore were pounded, and
then put into a glazed earthen vessel, and afterwards
sprinkled with spirit of wine. They were suffered to
stand for twelve hours, stirring them about twice or
thrice during that space of time. They were then
sprinkled again, and at last good Rhenish wine was
poured on till it stood six fingers above the roots. The
mixture was frequently agitated with a wooden spatula j
and as the wine was imbibed by the roots, more was
poured on, so as to keep it always at the same height
for 48 hours. The whole was then put on the fire and
boiled for half an hour, after which the decoction was
violently pressed out; the same quantity of wine was
added as at first, and the mixture boiled as before. Af¬
ter the second expression the woody residuum was thrown
away as useless. Both the strained liquors were then
mixed together with two parts of boiling water to one
of the decoction. The whole is afterwards evaporated
W a silver vessel to the consistence of a syrup. One
part of the extract is again mixed with two parts of
boiling water, and the whole inspissated as before.—By
this means, says he, the volatile nauseous acrid particles
are separated by evaporation, and the fixed ones remain
corrected and prepared for medicinal uses 5 adding, to¬
wards the end, a ninth part of old brandy, and evapo¬
rating to the consistence of turpentine. Mr Bacher rea¬
sons a good deal on the way in which this process cor¬
rects the medicine *, but tells us, that notwithstanding
the improvement, his pills will not have the desired ef-
lect unless properly made up, For forming them, they
ought to be mixed with matters both of an inviscating
and indurating nature ; yet so prepared that it will
he readily soluble in the stomach, even of a person
much debilitated. For answering these purposes, he
419
chose myrrh and carduus beuedictus, and he gives the Ascites,
following receipt for the formation of his pills :—
lake of the extract of hellebore prepared as a-
bove directed, and of solution of myrrh, each one
ounce; of powdered earduws benedictus, three drama
and a scruple. Mix them together, and form into a
mass, dividing it into pills of a grain and a half each.”
To these pills Mr Bacher gives the name of the piluhv
toincce, from an idea, that, while they evacuate the
water, they at the same time act as tonics ; and thus,
from augmenting the action of the lymphatics, prevent
the return of the disease. And if both these intentions
could be effectually answered by the use of the same
remedy, it would unquestionably be of great import¬
ance in practice.
The effects of these pills were, we are told, very
surprising. Dr Daignan relates that be gave them to
eighteen hydropic patients at once j, and these he divi¬
ded into three classes, according to the degree of the
disease with which they were affected. The first class
contained those who laboured under an anasarca follow¬
ing intermittent fevers. The second class contained
those who had an anasarca, together with some degree
of ascites, arising from tedious febrile disorders. All
these were cured ; but these two classes consisted of
such cases as are most easily removed. But the third
contained six who were seized with a most violent ana¬
sarca and ascites, after being much weakened by tedi¬
ous disorders, and of consequence in whom the disease
was very difficult to be cured. Fven of these, however,
lour were cured, and the other two died. The body
of one of these being dissected, both sides of the cavity
of the thorax were found to he full of a blackish-red
water. The lungs were unsound *, there was a poly¬
pous concretion in the right ventricle of the heart : the
liver and spleen were hard, and of a preternatural bulk ;
and the glands of the mesentery were obstructed and
infarcted. In the other, the liver and pancreas were
scirrhous, and the spleen very hard.
The same medicines ■were given by De Horne to
eight persons, six of whom had both an anasarca and as¬
cites, but the other two only an ascites. Four of these
recovered ; three died without being freed from the
dropsy; one in whom the dropsy was cured died in a
short time after, having for some time before his death
become speechless.
By these patients ten of the pills were taken at once ;
and the same dose repeated to the third time, with an
interval of an hour betwixt each dose. At first they
proved purgative, and then diuretic : by which last
evacuation they finally cured the disease. But though
Mr Bacher was firmly of opinion that his pills cured
the dropsy by reason of the above-related correction,
yet it is certain that, in the hands of other practition¬
ers, these very pills have failed, unless they also made
use of the same regimen recommended by that phy¬
sician 5 while, on the other hand, it is also certain, that
different medicines will prove equally efficacious in drop¬
sical cases, provided this regimen is made use of.
For a great number of ages it has been recommend¬
ed to dropsical patients to abstain as much as possi¬
ble from drink, and thus to the torments of their dis¬
ease was added that of an intolerable thirst; and how
great this torment was, we may understand from an
example of a friend of King Antigpnus, who, having
3 G 2 been
MEDICINE,
been closely watched both by order of the physicians
and also of the king, was so unable to bear the raging
thirst occasioned by his disease, that he swallowed his
own excrements and urine, and thus speedily put an
end to his life. Dr Milman shows at great length the
pernicious tendency of this practice. He maintains
that it is quite contrary to the sentiments ot Hippo¬
crates and the best ancient physicians. He asserts, that
unless plenty of diluting drink be given, the best diu¬
retics can have no effect. He condemns also in the
strongest terms the practice of giving dropsical patients
only dry, hard, and indigestible aliments. These would
oppress the stomach even of the most healthy, and how
much more must they do so to those who are already
debilitated by labouring under a tedious disorder 1 By
what means also are these aliments to be dissolved in
the stomach when drink is withheld ? In this disease
the saliva is viscid, and in small quantity 5 from whence
it may be reasonably conjectured, that the rest of the
fluids are of the same nature, and the gastric juices
likewise depraved. Thus the aliments lie long in the
stomach 5 and if the viscera were formerly free of ob¬
structions, they are now generated; the strength fails j
perspiration and other excretions are obstructed 5 the
viscid and pituitous humours produced by these kinds
of food float about the prtecordia, and increase the dis¬
ease, while the surface of the body becomes quite dry.
Nay, so much does this kind of diet conspire with the
disease, that 100 pounds of fluid will sometimes be
imbibed in a few days by hydropic persons who take
no drink. Even in health, if the body from any cause
becomes dry, or deprived of a considerable part of its
juices, as by hunger, labour, &c. it will imbibe a con¬
siderable quantity of moisture from the air j so that we
must impute the above-mentioned extraordinary inhala¬
tion, in part at least, to the denial of drink, and to the
nature of the aliment given to the sick. The following
is the account given by Sir Francis Milman of his prac¬
tice in the Middlesex hospital.
If the patient be not very much debilitated, he is
sometimes treated with the purging waters, and a dose
of jalap and calomel alternately. On the intermediate
days he gets a saline mixture, with 40 or 60 drops of
ace turn scilliticum every sixth hour ; drinking with the
purgatives oat-gruel and some thin broths. That he
might the better ascertain what share the liquids given
along wdth the medicines had in producing a copious
flo\v of urine, he sometimes gave the medicines in the
beginning of the distemper without allowing the drink :
but though the swellings v'ere usually diminished a
little by the purgatives, the urine still continued scanty,
and the patients w'ere greatly weakened. Fearinir,
therefore, lest, by following this course, the strength
of the sick might be too much reduced, he then began
his course oi diuretic medicines, giving large quantities
of barley water with a little sal diureticus; by which
means, sometimes in the short space of 48 hours after
the course was begun, the urine flowed out in very
large quantity: but as saline drinks are very disagree¬
able to the taste, a drink was composed purposely for
hydropic persons, of half an ounce of supertartrite of
potash, dissolved in two pounds of barley-water, made
agreeably sweet with syrup, adding one or two ounces
of French brandy.
To this composition Sir Francis Milman was induced
by the great praised given to supertartrite of potash by
some physicians in hydropic cases. In the Acta Bono-
niensia, 15 cases of hydropic patients are related who
were cured only by taking half an ounce of cream of
tartar daily. But it is remarkable, that by these very
patients the cream of tartar was taken for 20, 30, nay
40 days, often without any perceptible effect ; yet
when dissolved in a large quantity of water, it showed
its salutary effects frequently within as many hours, by
producing a plentiful flow of urine. This liquor is now
the cemmon drink of hydropic patients in the hospital
above mentioned, of which they drink at pleasure along
with their medicines.
Among purgative medicines Sir Francis Milman re¬
commends the radix senekee ; but says the decoction of
it, according to the Edinburgh Pharmacopoeia is too
sti'ong, as he always found it excite vomiting when pre¬
pared as there directed, and thus greatly to distress the
patients : but when only half an ounce or six drams
of the root are used to a pound of decoction, instead
of a whole ounce as directed by the Edinburgh col¬
lege, he finds it an excellent remedy j and though it
may sometimes induce a little vomiting, and frequently
a nausea, yet it seldom failed to procure nine or ten
stools a-day, and sometimes also proved diuretic. But
we must take care not to be too free in the use of se-
neka, or any other purgative, if the patients be very
weak j and therefore, after having used purgatives for
some time, it will be proper to depend upon diuretics
entirely for perfecting the cure; and of the success of
this method our author gives some very remarkable in¬
stances. But he observes, that after the dropsy is re¬
moved, the patients will sometimes die without any evi¬
dent cause ; and of this it is pi'oper that the physicians
should be aware. It is remarkable with wdiat ease a
flux of urine is induced in those who have a scirrhous
liver; while, on the other hand, in one who had the
mesenteric glands obstructed, along with a scirrhosity
of the liver and vitiated state of the lungs, the most
powerful diuretics proved ineffectual. In some cases
Sir Francis Milman thinks the kidneys may be so pres¬
sed with the weight of the water, as to be unable to
perform their office. With regard, however, to diu¬
retics in general, it may be remarked, that the opera¬
tion of none of them can be certainly depended upon.
In particular constitutions, and at particular times, one
will be observed to succeed, after another, though com¬
monly much more powerful, has been tried in vain.
Accordingly various articles of this kind are often
used in succession. Recourse is particularly often had
to the root of taraxacum, of colchicum, and of squills j
the latter, especially when combined with calomel, is
often found to be a very powerful diuretic. And in¬
deed mercury in different forms, probably from acting
as a deobstruent, is often of very great use in dropsical
complaints. Among other diuretics, the lactuca virosa
has of late been highly extolled by Dr Collins of Vien¬
na, and the nicotiana tabaccum by Dr Fowler of York:
hut neither has been extensively introduced into prac¬
tice, although we have known some instances in which
the latter, in particular, has been used with great ad¬
vantage.
Die water having been drawn off, we are to put the
patient on a course of strengtheners ; such as cinchona,
with some of the warm aromatics, and a due proportion
of
f dice. M E D I
imes. of rhubarb infused in wine and ehalybeates. Gentle
i\ix. exercise, and frictions on the belly, with such a course
M v^^of diet as shall be light and nourishing, are also to be
enjoined : and it may be obsei'ved, that the use of tonic
medicines is by no means to be delayed till a complete
evacuation of the water can be obtained. On the con¬
trary, by alternating, and even combining the use of
evacuants and tonics, the influence of both is often very
much promoted.
When the patient - can by no other means be reliev¬
ed, the operation of paracentesis must be had recourse
to, which is described under the article Surgery.
1.44 Genus LXXX. HYDROMETRA.
. Deopsy of the Uterus.
Hydrometra, Sauv. gen. 289. Sag. 116. Boerh.
1224.
i4S Genus LXXXI. HYDROCELE.
Deopsy of the Scrotum.
Oscheocele, Sauv. geh. 41. Vog. 388.
Oscheophyma, Sag. 44.
Hydrops scroti, Vog. 389.
Hydrops testium, Boerh. 122*].
For the treatment of these two diseases, we may re¬
fer the reader to what has already been said of other
species of dropsy, particularly Ascites. But both are
chiefly to be combated by chirurgical operation, espe¬
cially the latter, in which it seldom fails to produce a
complete cure.
!45 Genus LXXXII. PHYSCONIA.
Swelling of the Bcl/y.
Physconia, Sauv. gen. 283. Vog. 325. Sag. gen.
no.
Hyposarca, Lm. 218.
This disease may arise from a variety of causes, as
from a swelling of the liver, spleen, kidneys, uterus,
omentum, ovarium, mesentery, intestines, &.c. and
sometimes it arises merely from fat. In the former
cases, as the viscera are generally scirrhous and indur¬
ated, the distemper is for the most part incurable}
neither is the prospect much better where the disease is
occasioned by a great quantity of fat.
47 Genus LXXXIII. RACHITIS.
The Rickets.
Rachitis, Sauv. gen. 294. Lin. 212. Vog. 312.
Aag. gen. 120. Boerh. 1480. III. 487.
7*eviani della Rachitide. Glisson de Rachitide.
Description. This is one of the diseases peculiar to
infancy. It seldom attacks children till they are nine
months, nor after they are two years old; but it fre¬
quently happens in the intermediate space between
these two periods. The disease shows itself by a flac¬
cid tumor of the head and face, a loose flabby skin,
a swelling of the abdomen, and falling away of the
other parts, especially of the muscles. There are
CINE. 42!
protuberances of the epiphyses of the joints ; the jugu- Rachitis,
lar veins swell, while the rest decrease } and the legs —v--~—
grow crooked. It the child has begun to walk before
he be seized with this disease, there is a slowness, de¬
bility, and tottering in his motion, which seen brings
on a constant desire ot sitting, and afterwards of lying
down 5 insomuch that nothing at last is moveable" but.
the neck and head. As they grow older, the head is
greatly enlarged, with ample sutures ; the thorax is
compressed on the sides, and the sternum idses up
sharp, while the extremities of the ribs are knotty.
The abdomen is protuberant, and the teeth black and
carious. In such patients as have died of this disease,
all the solids appear soft and flaccid, and the fluids dis¬
solved and mucous.
Causes. The rickets may proceed from scrophulous
or venereal taints in the parents, and may be increased
by those of the nurse. It is likewise promoted by feed¬
ing the child with aqueous and mucous substances, crude
summer fruits, fish, unleavened farinaceous aliment, and
too great a quantity of sweet things.—Sometimes it fol¬
lows intermittent fevers and chronic disorders; and in
short, is caused by any thing which tends to debilitate
the body, and induce a viscid and unhealthy state of
the juices.
Prognosis. Th® rickets do net usually prove fatal by
themselves, but if not cured in time, they make the
person throughout life deformed in various ways 5 and
often produce very pernicious disorders, such as carious
bones in dift’erent parts of the body.
Cure. This is to be effected by mild cathartics, al¬
teratives, and tonics, such as are used in other diseases
attended with a debility of the system and a vitiated
state of the blood and juices. In the Western islands
of Scotland, the medicine used for the cure of the
rickets is an oil extracted from the liver of the skate-
fish. The method of application is as follows : First,
the wrists and ankles are rubbed with the oil in the
evening: this immediately raises a fever of several
hours duration. When the fever from the first rub¬
bing subsides, the same parts are rubbed again the
night following 5 and repeatedly as long as the rub¬
bing of these parts continues to excite the fever.—
When no fever can be excited by rubbing the wrists
and ankles alone, they are rubbed again along with
the knees and elbows. This increased unction brings
on the fever again-, and is practised as before, till it no
longer has that effect. Then the vertebrae and sides
are rubbed, along with the former parts 5 and this unc¬
tion, -which again brings on the fever, is repeated as
the former. When no fever can be any longer excited
by this unction, a flannel shirt dipped in the oil is put
upon the body of the patient : this brings on a more
violent and sensible fever than any of the former unc¬
tions ; and is continued till the cure be completed,
which it commonly is in a short time.
A German physician, Dr Strack, has lately pub¬
lished a paper, in which he recommends the filings
of iron as a certain remedy in the rickets. This dis¬
ease, he observes, in general begins with children
when they are about 16 months old. It is seldom ob¬
served with children before they be one year old, and
seldom attacks them after they pass two j and it is
very generally wrorse where it begins early than where
it begins late.
For
422
Impeti-
gines.
348
349
M E D I
For effecting a cure, it is, he affirms, a matter of
the utmost consequence to be able to distinguish, very
J early, whether a child will be afflicted with rickets or
not. And this, he assures us, may be determined by
the following symptoms : Paleness and swelling of the
countenance j and in that part of the cheeks which
should naturally be red, a yellow colour approaching
to that of sulphur. When that is the case, he directs
that a medicine should be immediately had recourse to
which will retard the further progress of the disease,
and remove what has already taken place. For this
purpose, he advises that five grains of the filings of iron,
and as much rhubarb, should be rubbed up with ten
grains of sugar, and given for a dose every morning
fasting, and every evening an hour before supper. But
if considerable looseness should be produced, it will be
necessary, at first, to persist in the use of one dose only
every day..
After a month’s continuance in this course, accord¬
ing to Dr Strack, there in general ensues a keen appe¬
tite for food, quick digestion, and a copious flow of
urine j by means of which the fulness of the face and
yellowness of the complexion are by degrees removed,
while the natural colour of the countenance and firmness
of the body in general are gradually restored. This
practice, he assures us, has never failed of success in any
one instance j not even in those children born of parents
greatly afflicted with the rickets.
In addition to the use of chalybeates, great benefit is
often also obtained in this disease from the use of the
cold bath j which under prudent administration, is per¬
haps one of the most effectual remedies for this complaint
with which we are yet acquainted.
Mr Bonhome of Paris, in a late treatise on the sub¬
ject of rachitis, has endeavoured to prove, that the dis¬
ease arises from a peculiar acid, and in the cure he par¬
ticularly recommends phosphate of soda, phosphate and
muriate of lime 5 but above all other ax-ticles alkaline
lotions. The efficacy of these remedies, however, is
not yet confirmed by experience. And we may con¬
clude with observing, that both in the prevention and
cure nothing has been found so successful as cold ba¬
thing.
When the bones of rickety children begin to bend,
they may sometimes be restored to their natural shape
by compresses, bolsters, and proper supports. See the
article Surgery.
Order III. IMPETIGINES.
Impetigines, Sauv. Class X. Ord. V. San. Class
HI. Ord. V. s
Genus LXXXIV. , SCROPHULA.
King's Evil.
Scrophula, Sauv. gen. 285. Fog. 397. Sag. 121.
Struma, Lm. 284.
description. This disease shows itself by hard, scir¬
rhous, and often indolent tumors, which arise by degrees
in the glands of the neck, under the chin, armpits, and
dmerent parts ol the body, but most commonly in the
neck, and behind the ears. In process of time, the
cellular substance, ligaments of the joints, and even the
4
CINE. Practi
bones themselves, are affected. In scrophula the swel- Sc[.0I))i
lings are much more moveable than those of the scir- s—
rhous kind y they are generally softer, and seldom at¬
tended with much pain j they are tedious in coming to
suppuration; are very apt to disappear suddenly, and
again to rise in some other part of the body. We may
likewise mention as characteristic circumstances of this
disease, a remarkable softness of the skin, a kind of fid-*
ness of the face, generally with large eyes, and a very
delicate complexion.
Causes. A variety of causes have been mentioned
as tending to produce scrophula, viz. a crude indigest*
iblefood; bad water j living in damp, low situations j
its being an hereditary disease, and in some countries
endemic, &c. But whatever may in different circum¬
stances be the exciting or predisposing causes of the
scrophula, the disease itself either depends upon, or is
at least much connected with, a debility of the consti¬
tution in general, and probably of the lymphatic sys¬
tem in particular, the complaint always showing itself
by some affections of the latter. And that debility
has at least a considerable influence in its production is
probable, not only from the manifest nature of some
of the causes said to be productive of scrophula, but
likewise from such remedies as are found most service¬
able in the cure, which are all of a tonic invigorating
nature.
Prognosis. The scrophula is a distemper which often
eludes the most powerful medicines, and therefore phy¬
sicians cannot with any certainty promise a cure. It is
seldom, however, that it proves mortal in a short time,
unless it attacks the internal parts, such as the lungs,
where it frequently produces tubercles that bring on a
fatal consumption. When it attacks the joints, it fre¬
quently produces ulcers, which continue for a long
time, and gradually waste the patient j while in the
mean time the bones become foul and corroded, and
death ensues after a long scene of misery. The prog¬
nosis in this respect must be regulated entirely by the
nature of the symptoms.
Cui'e. It was long supposed that scrophula depended
upon an acid acrimony of the fluids y and this, it is
probable, gave rise to the use of burnt sponge, differ¬
ent kinds of soap, and other alkaline substances, as
the best remedies for acidity. But although a sour¬
ness of the stomach and primce vice does no doubt fre¬
quently occur in these complaints, yet this symptom
seems to be entirely the consequence of that general re¬
laxation which in scrophula so universally prevails, and
which does not render it in the least necessary to suppose
a general acescency of the fluids to take place y as the
one very frequently, it is well known, even in other
complaints, occurs without the least suspicion of any
acid acrimony existing in the other. This is also ren¬
dered very probable from the indolent nature of scro-
phulous tumors, which have been known to subsist for
years without giving any uneasiness y which could not
have been the case, if an acid, Or any other acrimony,
had prevailed in them.
In the treatment of scrophula, different morbid con¬
ditions, existing in different parts, require, according to
circumstances, Various means of cure : but, upon the
whole, the remedies directed may be considered as used
with a view either to the tumors, to the ulcerations, or
to the general state of the system.
Gentle
pi :tice.
j ,t'_ Gentle mercuriais are sometimes of use as resolvents
i :s. in scroplmlous swellings 5 but nothing has such consi-
^ derable influence as a frequent anti copious use of cin¬
chona. Cold bathing too, especially in the sea, toge¬
ther with frequent moderate exercise, is often of singu¬
lar service here 5 as is likewise change of air, espe¬
cially to a warm climate.
In the scrophulous inflammation of the eyes, or oph¬
thalmia strumosa, the cinchona has also been given with
extraordinary advantage : and we meet with an instance
of its having cured the gutta rosacea in the face j a
complaint which it is often difficult to remove, and
which is extremely disagreeable to the fair sex.
From the various cases related of tumefied glands,
it appears, that when the habit is relaxed and the cir¬
culation weak, either from constitution or accident, cin¬
chona is a most efficacious medicine, and that it acts as
a resolvent and discutient. It will not, however, suc¬
ceed in all cases ; but there are few in which a trial
can be attended with much detriment. Dr f'othergill
observes, that he has never known it avail much where
the bones were affected, nor where the scrophulous tu¬
mor was so situated as to he accompanied with much
pain, as in the joints, or under the membranous cover¬
ings of the muscles ; for when the disease attacks those
parts, tire periostseum seldom escapes without some in¬
jury, by which the hone will of course be likewise af¬
fected. Here cinchona is of no effect: instead of les¬
sening, it rather increases the fever that accompanies
those circumstances : and, if it do not really aggravate
the complaint, it seems at least to accelerate the pro¬
gress of the disease.
Various are the modes in which cinchona is admini¬
stered : Dr Fothergill makes use of a decoction, with
the addition of some aromatic ingredients and a small
quantity of liquorice-root, as a form in which a sufficient
quantity may be given without exciting disgust. But
where it is easily retained in the stomach in substance,
perhaps the best form of exhibiting it is that of powder 5
and in this state it is often advantageously conjoined
with powder of cicuta, an article possessing very . . eat
deobstruent powers.
The powder, however, soon becomes disagreeable to
very young patients ; and the extract seems not so
much to be depended upon as may have been imagined.
In making the extract, it is exposed to so much heat,
as must have some effect upon its virtues, perhaps to
their detriment. In administering it, likewise, if great
care he not taken to mix it intimately with a proper
vehicle, or some very soluble substance, in weak bowels
it very often purges, and thereby not only disappoints
the physician, but injures the patient. A small quan¬
tity of the cot'tex Winteranus added gives the medicine
a grateful warmth j and a little liquorice, a few rai¬
sins, gum arabic or the like, added to the decoction
before it be taken from the fire, by making the liquor
viscid enables it to suspend more of the fine particles
of the bark 5 by which process the medicine is not only
impi'oved in efficacy, but at the same time rendered
less disagreeable.
In indolent swellings of the glands from viscid hu¬
mours, sea-water has been strongly recommended by
Dr Russell.
Dr Fothergill also acquaints us, that the cicuta even
by itself is not without a considerable share of efficacy
423
in removing scrophulous disorders. He mentions the Serophula.
case of a gentlewoman, about 28 years of age, affiict- ' ■ "'y--'. <
ed from her infancy with scrophulous complaints, se¬
vere ophthalmies, glqndular swellings, &c. cured by the
extractum cicutce taken constantly for the space of a
year, tie observes, however, that when given to chil¬
dren, even in very small doses, it is apt to produce spas¬
modic affections j for which reason he rarely exhibits
it to them when very young, or even to adults of very
irritable habits.
Dr Fothergill gives several other instances of the
success of cicuta in scrophulous cases, and even in one
which seemed to be not far removed from a confirmed
phthisis 5 but owns that it -seldom bad such good effects
afterwards : yet he is of opinion, that where there are
symptoms of tubercles forming, a strumous habit, and
a tendency to phthisis, the cicuta will often be .ser¬
viceable. It is anodyne, corrects acrimony, and pro¬
motes the formation of good matter. With regard to
the quality of the medicine, he observes, that the ex¬
tract prepared from hemlock before the plant arrives
at maturity, is much inferior to that which is made
when the hemlock has acquired its full vigour, and is
rather on the verge of decline : just when the flowers
fade, the rudiments of the seeds become observable,
and the habit of the plant inclines to yellow 5 this,
he thinks, is the proper time to collect the hemlock.
It has then had the full benefit of the summer heat *,
and the plants that grow in exposed places will gene¬
rally be found more active than those that grow in
the shade. The less heat it undergoes during the pre¬
paration, the better. Therefore, if a considerable quan¬
tity of the dry powder of the plant gathered at a
proper season be added, less boiling will be necessary^
and the medicine will he the more efficacious. But
let the extract be prepared in what manner soever it
may, provided it be made from the genuine plant,
at a proper season, and be not destroyed by boiling,
the chief difl’erence observable in using it is, that a
larger quantity of one kind is required to produce a
certain effect than of another. Twenty grains of
one sort of extract have been found equal in point
of -efficacy to thirty, nay near forty, of another ; yet
both of them made from the genuine plant, and most
probably prepared with equal fidelity. To prevent
the inconveniences arising from this uncertainty, it
seems always expedient to begin with small doses, and
proceed step by step till the extract produces certain
effects, which seldom fail to arise from a full dose.
These effects are different in different constitutions.
But, for the most part, a giddiness affecting the head,
and motions of the eyes, as if something pushed them
outwards, are first felt; a slight sickness, and trembling
agitation of the body ; a laxative stool or two. One or
all of these symptoms are the marks of a full dose, let
the quantity in weight be what it will. Here we must
stop till none of these effects be felt j and in three or
four days advance a few grains more. For it has been
supposed by most of those who have used this medicine
to any good purpose, that the cicuta seldom procures
any benefit, though given lor a long time, unless in as
large a dose as the patient can bear without suffering
any of the inconveniences above mentioned. There
is however reason to believe, that its effects, as a discu¬
tient are in no degree dependent 041 its narcotic powers :
MEDICINE.
424
'5°
M E D I C I N
and we are inclined to think, that recourse is often had
to larger doses than are necessary j or at least that the
same benefit might be derived from smaller ones con¬
tinued for an equal length of time.
Patients commonly bear a greater quantity of the ex¬
tract at night than at noon, and at noon than in the
morning. Two drams may be divided into thirty pills.
Adults begin with two in the morning, two at noon, and
three or four at night, with directions to increase
each dose, by the addition of a pill to each, as they
can bear it.
But, after all, the best foi'm under which the cicuta
can, we think, be exhibited, is that of powder from
the leaves. This, either under the form of powder or
made into pills, may be given at first to the extent of
four or five grains, and the dose gradually rising till it
amount to 15 or 20 grains twice or thrice a-day. Given
to this extent, particularly when conjoined with cin¬
chona, it has often been found of great service in scro-
phulous cases. At the same time it must be allowed,
that such patients, after resisting every mode of cure,
will have in some instances a spontaneous recovery in
the progress of life, probably from the system acquir¬
ing additional vigour.
Different mineral waters, particularly the sulphure¬
ous ones, as those of Harrowgate, Moffat, and Gills-
land, have been much recommended in scrophula, and
sometimes productive of benefit. Recourse has some¬
times also been had with advantage to zinc, iron, and
barytes, particularly muriate of barytes. But as well
as in rachitis, no remedy has been found more effica¬
cious in scrophula than cold bathing, especially sea¬
bathing..
Genus LXXXV. SIPHYLIS.
Lues Venerea, or French Fox.
Siphylis, Sauv. gen. 3086. Lin. 6. Vog. 319.
Sag. 126.
Lues venerea, Boerh. 1440. Hoffm. III. 413. Junck.
96. Astruc de Lue Venerea.
Dr Astruc, who writes a very accurate history of
the lues venerea, is fully convinced that it is a new
disease, which never appeared in Europe till some time
between the years 1494 and 1496, having been im¬
ported from America by the companions of Christo¬
pher Columbus \ though this opinion is not without
its opponents. Dr Sanches in particular has contend¬
ed with much learning and ability, that it appeared in
Europe at an earlier period : But it is at least certain
that it was altogether unknown to the medical prac¬
titioners of Greece and Rome, and that it was a very
common disease in America when the Europeans first
visited that country. But at whatever period it may
have been introduced into Europe, or from whatever
source it may have been obtained, there can be no doubt
that, as well as smallpox or measles, siphylis depends
on a peculiar specific contagion ; on a matter suigeneris
which is alone capable of inducing this disease.
The venereal infection, however, cannot, like the
contagious miasmata of the smallpox and some other
-diseases, be carried through the air, and thus spread
rrom place to place: for unless it is transmitted from
the parents to the children, there is no other way of
fracti!
contracting the disease but from actual contact with «. ,
the infectious matter. Thus, when a nurse happens» , -Pvy
to labour under the disease, the infant that she suckles
will receive the infection} as, on the other hand, when
the child is infected, the nurse is liable to receive it:
and there have even been instances known of lying-in
women being infected very violently, from having em¬
ployed a person to draw their breasts who happened to
have venereal ulcers in the throat. It may be caught
by touching venereal sores, if the cuticle be abraded
or torn : and in this way accoucheurs and midwives
have sometimes been infected severely. Dr Macbride
says, the most inveterate pox he ever saw was caught
by a midwife, who happened to have a whitlow on
one of her fingers when she delivered a woman ill of
the lues venerea.
But by far the most ready way of contracting this
disease is by coition, the genital parts being much more
bibulous than the rest of the body. When the disorder
is communicated, the places where the morbific matter
enters are generally those where it first makes its ap¬
pearance 5 and as coition is the "most usual way of con¬
tracting it, so the first symptoms commonly appear on
or near the pudenda.
The patient’s own account will, for the most part,
help us to distinguish the disease : but there are some¬
times cases wherein we cannot avail ourselves of this
information, and where, instead of confessing, the par¬
ties shall conceal all circumstances; while, on the
other hand, there are now and then people to be met
with, who persuade themselves that symptoms are ve¬
nereal, which in reality are owing to some other cause:
and therefore it is ol the utmost importance to inform
ourselves thoroughly of the nature of those symptoms
and appearances which may be considered as pathogno¬
mic signs of lues venerea.
In the first place, when we find that the local symp¬
toms, such as chancres, buboes, phymosis, and the like,
do not give way to the usual methods ; or when these
complaints, after having been cured, break out again
without a fresh infection •, we may justly suspect that
the virus has entered the whole mass of fluids : but if
at the same time ulcers break out in the throat, and
the face is deformed by callous tubercles, covered with
a brown or yellow scab, we may be assured that the
case is now become a confirmed lues, which will require
a mercurial course.
M hen eruptions of the furfuraceous and superficial
kind are venereal, they are not attended with itching ^
and the scale being picked off, the skin appears of a
reddish broWn, or rather copper colour, underneath ,
whereas leprous eruptions are itchy, throw off a greater
quantity of scales, and rise in greater blotches, espe¬
cially about the joints of the knees and elbows. Vene-
real tubercles or pustules are easily distinguished from
carbuncles of the face, by not occupying the cheeks or
the nose, nor as having a purulent apex, but are cover¬
ed at top, either with a dry branny scurf like the su¬
perficial eruptions just now mentioned, or else with ft
hard dry scab of a tawney yellow hue ; they particular¬
ly break out among the hair or near to it, on the fore¬
head or on the temples.
\ enereal ulcers aflecting the mouth are distinguish¬
able from those which are scorbutic, in the following
manner: 1. enereal ulcers first affect the tonsils, fau¬
ces
tctice. M E I) I
peti- ces and uvula j tlicn the gums, but tliese very rarely :
nes. on the contrary, scorbutic ulcers aftect the gums first
of all; then the fauces, tonsils, ami uvula. 2. Vene¬
real ulcers frequently spread to the nose ; scorbutic
ones almost never. 3. Venereal ulcers are callous in
the edges j scorbutic ones are not so. 4. Venereal
ulcers are circumscribed, and, for the most part, are
circular, at least they ax-e confined to certain places;
scorbutic ones are of a more regular form, spread
wider, and frequently affect the whole mouth. 5. Ve-
nex-eal ulcers are for the most part hollow, and general¬
ly covex-ed at bottom with a white or yellow slough ;
but scorbutic ones ax-e more apt to grow up into loose
fungi. 6. Venereal ulcers are i'ed in their circumfe¬
rence, but scorbutic ones ai*e always livid. 7. Vene¬
real ulcers frequently rot the subjacent bones, the scor¬
butic ones seldom or never. 8. And lastly, Venereal
ulcers are generally combined with other symptoms
which ai’e known to be venereal; scorbutic ones with
the distinguishing signs of the scurvy, such as difficult
breathing, listlessness, swelling of the legs, rotten gums,
&c.
Another strong sign of the confirmed lues is often af¬
forded from certain deep-seated nocturnal pains, parti¬
cularly of the shins, arms, and head. As for any su¬
perficial wandering pains that have no fixed seat, and
which affect the membranes of the muscles, and liga¬
ments of the joints, they, for the most part, xvill be
found to belong to the gout or rheumatism, and can
never be considered as venereal, unless accompanied
with some other evident signs j but with regard to the
pains that are deeply-seated, and always fixed to the
same place, and which aflect the middle and more solid
part of the ulna, tibia, and bones of the cranium,
and rage chiefly and with greatest violence in the fore-
pai t of the night, so that the patient can get no rest
till morning approaches, these may serve to convince
us that the disease has spread itself throughout the
whole habit, whether they be accompanied with other
symptoms of the lues or not. Gummata in the fleshy
parts, 7iodes in the periosteum, ganglia upon the ten¬
dons, tophi upon the ligaments, exostoses upon the
bones, and at the verge of the anus, are all of them
signs of the confirmed lues: these ai’e hard indolent
swellings ; but as they sometimes arise independently
of any venereal infection, and perhaps may proceed
from a sci’ophulous taint, unless they be accompanied
or have been pi’ecefled by some of the moi-e cei’tahx
and evident symptoms of the lues, we must be cautious
about pronouncing them venereal. When these swell¬
ings are not owing to the siphylitic virus, they are
very seldom paitxful, or tend to inflame and suppurate,
whereas those that are venereal usually do, and if they
lie upon a bone generally bring on a caries.
These carious ulcers are most commonly met with
upon the ulna, tibia, and bones of the cranium ; and
when .accompanied with nocturnal pains, we can never
hesitate about declaring their genuine nature. Frequent
abortions, or the exclusion of scabby, ulcerated, half-
rotten, and dead foetuses, happening without any mani¬
fest cause to disturb the feetus before its time, or to de¬
stroy it in the womb, may be reckoned as a sign that
at lea ;t one of the parexxts is infected.
Tin -e then are the principal and most evident signs
of the confirmed lues. There are others which are more
Vol. XIII. Part II. i
CINE.
equivocal, and which, unless we can fairly trace them
back to some that are more certain, cannot he held as
signs of the venereal disease : Such ax e, 1. Obstinate
inflammations of the eyes, frequently returning, with
gi’eat heat, itching, and ulceration of the eyelids.
2. A singing and hissing noise in the eai’s, with ulcers
or cai’ies in the bones oi the meatus auditorius. 3. Ob¬
stinate headachs. 4. Obstinate cutaneous eruptions,
of the itchy or leprous appearance, not yielding to the
milder methods of treatment. 5. Swellings of the
bones j and, 6. Wandei’ing and obstinate pains. None
of tliese symptoms, how'ever, can be known to be vene¬
real, except they happen to coincide with some one or
other of the more certain signs.
It may, perhaps, be considered as a singularity in
this disease, that the diagnosis is often more difficult
in the advanced than in the eai’ly periods of the affec¬
tion. That is, with those who have been certainly
subjected to siphylis, it is often very difficult to say
whether certain symptoms, remaining after the ordi¬
nary modes of cure have been employed, be siplxylitic
or not. Very frequently, as appears from the sequel,
nocturnal pains, ulcerations, and the like, remaining
after a long course of mercury lias been employed, are
in no degree of a venereal nature, but axe in reality to
be considered as consequences x-atlxer of the i-emedy
than the disease ; and are accordingly best removed
by nourishing diet, gentle exex-cise, and tonics. But as
long as any symptoms of any kind remain, it is often
impossible to convince some patients that they ai’e cured 5
and it is often impossible for a physician with certainty
to affirm that the disease is altogether overcome.
Upon the whole, we ai’e fii’st to distinguish and con¬
sider the several symptoms apart j and then, by com¬
paring them with each other, a clear judgment may be
formed upon the general review.
Prognosis. Being thoroughly convinced that the case
is venereal, we are to consider, first of all, whether it
be of a longer or shorter date 5 for the more x-ecent it
is, it will, cateris paribus, be less difficult to remove.
But thei’e are other circumstances which w’ill assist us
in forming a prognostic as to the event. As,
1. The age of the patient. This disorder is more
dangerous to infants and old people, than to such as
are in the flower and vigour of life, in whom some
part of the virus may be expelled by exercise, or may
be subdued in some degree by the sti-ength of the con¬
stitution.
2. The sex. Though women are for the most pai’t
weaker than men, and therefore should seem less able
to resist the force of any disease, yet experience shows
that this is easier borne by them than by men ; per¬
haps owing to the menstrual and other uterine dis¬
charges, by which a good portion ol the virus may be
carried off immediately from the pai’ts where it was
first applied j for it is observable, that whenever these
discharges are obstructed, or cease by the ordinary
coui-se of nature, all the symptoms of this disease grow
woi-se.
3. The habit of body. Persons who have acrid
juices will be liable to suffer more from the venereal
poison than such as have their blood in a milder state j
hence, when people of a scorbutic or scropliulous ha¬
bit contract venereal disorders, the symptoms are al¬
ways remarkably violent, and difficult to cure. And
J 3 H for
426 M E D I
Impeti- for the same reasons, the confirmed lues is much more
gines. to be dreaded in a person already inclined to an asthma,
phthisis, dropsy, gout, or any other chronic distem¬
per, than in one of a sound and healthy constitution.
For as the original disease is increased by the acces-
sion of the venereal poison, so the lues is aggravated
by being joined to an old disorder. The more nume¬
rous the symptoms, and the more they aft’ect the bones,
the more difficult the cure. Of all combinations the
union of siphylis with scrophula is perhaps the most
difficult to overcome : but if the acrimony should seize
on the nobler internal parts, such as the brain, the lungs
or the liver, then the disease becomes incurable, and the
patient will either go off suddenly in an apoplectic fit,
or sink under a consumption.
Cure. \ iewing this disease as depending on a pe¬
culiar contagious matter introduced into the system,
£yul multiplied there, it is possible to conceive that a
cure may be obtained on one of three principles j ei¬
ther by the evacuation of the matter from the system,
by the destruction of its activity, or by counteracting
its influence in the system. It is not impossible that
articles exist in nature capable of removing this com¬
plaint on each of these grounds : but we may ven¬
ture at least to assert, that few such are yet discover¬
ed. Notwithstanding numbers of pretended infalli¬
ble remedies for siphylis, mercury is perhaps the only
article on which dependence is placed among European
practitioners; and with regard to its mode of opera¬
tion, all the tlwee different opinions pointed out have
been adopted and supported by different theorists.—
But although many ingenious arguments have been
employed in support of each, we are, upon the whole,
inclined to think it more probable that mercury operates
by destroying the activity of the venereal virus, than
that it has effect either by evacuating it, or by ex¬
citing a state of action by which its influence is coun¬
teracted. Some practitioners have affirmed, that the
disease may be totally extirpated without the use of
mercury ; but, excepting in slight cases, it appears from
the most accurate observations, that this grand speci¬
fic is indispensible ; whether it be introduced through
the pores of the skin, in the form of ointments, plas¬
ters, washes, &c. j or given by,, the mouth, disguised
in the different shapes of pills, troches, powders, or so¬
lutions.
I ormerly it. was held as a rule, that a salivation
ought to be raised, and a great discharge excited. But
this is now found to be unnecessary: for as mercury
probably acts by some specific power in subduing and
conectiug the venereal virus, all that is required is to
tin ow in a. sufficient quantity of the medicine for this
purpose : and if it can be diverted from the salivary
glands, so much the better, since the inconveniences
attending a spitting are such as we should always wish
to avoid.
Mercury,.when combined with any saline substance,
has.its activity prodigiously increased j hence the great
variety of chemical preparations which have been con¬
trived to unite it with different acids.
. Corrosive sublimate, or the murias hydrargyri corro¬
sives, is one of the most active of all the mercurial pre-
pai actions, insomuch as to become a poison even in very-
small doses. It therefore cannot safely be given in sub¬
stance } but must be dissolved in order .to render it ca-
C I N E. . PractL,
pable of a more minute division. We may see, by Si ]v
looking into Wiseman, that this is an old medicine,' ri
though seldom given by regular practitioners. How it
came to be introduced into so remote a part of the world
as Siberia, is not easily found out; but Dr Clerc, au¬
thor of the Histoire Naturelle de PHomme Malade, as¬
sures us, that the sublimate solution has been in use
there time out of mind.
It appears to have been totally forgotten in other
places, until of late years, when Baron Van Swieten
brought it into vogue j so that at one period, if we may
credit Dr Locker, they used no other mercurial prepa¬
ration at Vienna. The number of patients cured by
this remedy alone in the hospital of St Mark, which is
under the care of this gentleman, from 1754 to 1761
inclusive, being 4880.
The method of preparing the solution is, to dissolve
as much sublimate in any kind of ardent spirit (at Vien¬
na they use only corn brandy) as will give half a grain
to an ounce of solution. Tlie dose to a grown per¬
son is one spoonful mixed with a pint of any light pti¬
san or barley water, and this is to be taken morning
and evening : the patients should keep principally in a
warm chamber, and lie in bed to sweat after taking the
medicine j their diet should be light; and they ought
to drink plentifully throughout the day, of whey, pti¬
san, or barley water. If the solution does not keep
the belly open, a mild purge must be given from time
to time ; for Locker observes, that those whom it
purges two or three times a-day, get well sooner than
those whom it does not purge: he also says, that it
very seldom affects the mouth, but that it promotes
the urinary and cutaneous discharges. This course is
not only to be continued till all the symptoms dis¬
appear, but for some weeks longer. The shortest time
in which Locker used to let the patients out was six
weeks; and they were continued on a course of decoc¬
tion of the woods for some weeks after they left ofl‘ the
solution.
This method has been introduced both in Britain
and Ireland, though by no means to the exclusion of
others; but it appears, that the solution does not turn
out so infallible a remedy, either in these kingdoms, or
in trance, as they say it has done in Germany. It was
seldom if ever found to perform a radical cure, and the
frequent use of it proved in many cases highly prejudi¬
cial. . It has therelore been succeeded in practice, even
at Vienna, by mercury exhibited in other forms; and,
among these, by a remedy first recommended by Dr
Plenck, and since improved by Dr Saunders ; con¬
sisting of mercury united with mucilage of gum arabic,
which is said to render its exhibition perfectly mild
and safe. For particulars, we refer to Dr Saunders’s
treatise.
, Duka late French writer, supposed to he Dr Petit,
in a small book, entitled, A parallel of the different me-
thodft of treating the venereal disease, insists, that there
is neither certainty nor safety in any other method than
the repeated frictions with mercurial ointment.
If, therefore, it is determined to have recourse to
the mercurial frictions, the patient may wdth advan¬
tage be prepared by going into the warm bath some
t ajs successively ; having been previously blooded il of
a plethoric habit, and taking a, dose or two of some
proper cathartic.
The
p ctice.
t- The patient being fitted with the necessary apparatus
1 Is. of flannels, is then to enter on the course,
u ' If he he of a robust habit and in the prime of life,
we may begin with two drams of the unguentum hy-
drargyri fortius, (Ph. Lond.) which is to be rubbed
in about the ankles by an assistant Avhose hands are
covered with bladders: then having intermitted a day,
we may expend two drams more of the ointment, and
rest for two days j after which, if no soreness of the
mouth comes on, use only one dram ; and at every
subsequent friction ascend till the ointment shall reach
the trunk of the body $ after which the rubbings are
to be begun at the Wrists, and from thence gradually
extended to the shoulders. In order to prevent the
mercury from laying too much hold of the mouth, it
must be diverted to the skin, by keeping the patient
in a constant perspiration from the warmth of the room,
and by drinking plentifully of barley-water, whey, or
ptisan; but if, nevertheless, the mercury should tend
to raise a spitting, then, from time to time, we are
either to give some gentle cathartic, or order the pa¬
tient into a vapour or warm bath j and thus we are
to go on, rubbing in a dram of the ointment every se¬
cond, third, or fourth night, according as it may be
found to operate j and on the intermediate days either
purging or bathing, unless we should choose to let the
salivation come on j which, however, it is much bet¬
ter to avoid, as we shall thus be able to throw in a
larger quantity of mercury.
It is impossible to ascertain the quantity of mercury
that may be necessary to be rubbed in, as this will
vary according to circumstances : but we are always to
continue the frictions, for a fortnight at least, after all
symptoms of the disease shall have totally disappeared;
and when we have done with the mercury, warm bath¬
ing, and sudorific decoctions of the woods, are to be
Continued for some time longer.
This is a general sketch of the methods of treatment
for the confirmed lues ; but for a complete history of
the disease, and for ample directions in every situation,
we refer to Astruc, and his abridger Dr Chapman.—
We have to add, however, that a method of curing
this disease by mercurial fumigation has been lately re¬
commended in France, but it seems not to meet with
great encouragement. One of the most recent proposals
for the cui-e of the venereal disease is that of Mr Clare,
and consists in rubbing a small quantity of mercury
tinder the form of the submurias hydrargfri, or calomel
as it is commonly called, on the inside of the cheek ;
by which means it has been supposed that we will not
only avoid the inconveniences of unction, but also the
purgative effects that are often produced by this medi¬
cine when taken into the stomach. But after all, the
introduction of mercury under the form of unction, as
recommended by the latest and best writers in Britain
on the venereal disease, Dr Swediaur, Mr John Hunter,
and others, is still very generally preferred to any mode
that has yet been proposed.
Where, after a long trial of mercury, distressing
symptoms still remain, particularly obstinate ulcera¬
tions and severe pains, benefit has often been derived
from the use of opium : but there is little reason to
believe, as has been held by some, that of itself it af¬
fords an infallible cure of this disease } at least we are
... 4^7
inclined to think, that all the facts hitherto brought in Scorbutus.
support of the cure of siphylis by opium are at the ut- 1 v •" J
most very doubtful.
The same observation may perhaps be made with re¬
gard to another remedy which has of late been highly
extolled in siphylis, viz. the nitric acid. This article
seems to have been first introduced both against affec¬
tions of the liver and venereal complaints by Dr Scott
of Bombay. It has since been highly extolled by Dr
Beddoes and other writers in Britain. And there are
many well authenticated cases on record in which it has
produced a cure. But it is very rarely preferable to
mercury; and it is chiefly useful when, from some pecu¬
liarity of constitution, mercury cannot be exhibited.
In obstinate ulcerations, remaining probably after the
venereal virus has been overcome, and resisting the use
of mercury, a complete cure has in many instances been
obtained from the use of the root of the mezereon, the
daphne mezereum of Linnaeus. This article has been
chiefly employed under the form of decoction j and it
now appears that it is the basis of an article at one time
highly celebrated in venereal complaints, under the
title of Lisbon diet drink. But, upon the whole, these
sequelae of this disease are perhaps more readily over¬
come by country air, gentle exercise, and nourishing
diet, particularly a milk diet, than by the use of any
medicine whatever. It must indeed be allow'ed, that,
for combating different sequelae, various practices ac¬
commodated to the nature of these Avill on particular
occasions be requisite. But into the consideration of
these Ave cannot here propose to enter.
Genus LXXXVL SCORBUTUS. 3SI
Scurvy.
Scorbutus, Sativ. gen. 391. Lin. 223. Fqg. 318.
, Sag. 12*]. Boerh. 1148. Hoff'm. III. 369. Junck.
91. Lind on the Scurvy. Hulme de Scorbuto.
Bouppe de Morbis Navigantium.
Description. The first indication of the scorbutic dia¬
thesis is generally a change of colour in the face, from
the natural and healthy look to a pale and bloated com¬
plexion, Avith a listlessness, and aversion from every sort
of exercise ; the gums soon after become itchy, swell,
and are apt to bleed on the slightest touch ; the breath
grows offensive-, and the gums, swelling daily more
and more, turn livid, and at length become extremely
fungous and putrid, as being continually in contact with
the external air; which in every case favours the putre¬
faction of substances disposed to run into that state, and
is indeed in some respects absolutely requisite for the
production of actual putridity.
The symptoms of the scurvy, like those of every
other 'disease, are someAvhat different in different sub¬
jects, according to the various circumstances ol consti¬
tution 5 and they do not always proceed in the same
regular course in every patient. But Avbat is very re¬
markable in this disease, notwithstanding the various
and immense load of distress under Avhich the patients
labour, there is no sickness at the stomach, the appe¬
tite keeps up, and the senses remain entire almost to
the very last : when lying at rest, scorbutic patients
-make no complaints, and feel little distres> or pain5 but
3 H 2 the
MEDICINE.
428 . M E D I
Impeti- the moment they attempt to rise or stir themselves, then
giues. the breathing becomes difficult, with a kind of straitness
‘v  or catching, and great oppression, and sometimes they
have been known to fall into a syncope. This catch¬
ing of the breath upon motion, with the loss of strength,
dejection of spirit, and rotten gums, are held as the es¬
sential or distinguishing symptoms of the disease. The
skin is generally dry, except in the very last stage,
when the patients become exceedingly subject to faint-
ings, and then it grows clammy and moist: in some
it has an anserine appearance : but much oftener it is
smooth and shining; and, when examined, is found
to be spread over with spots, not rising above the sur¬
face, of a reddish, bluish, livid or purple colour, with
a sort of yellow rim round them. At first these spots
are for the most part small, but in time they increase
to large blotches. The legs and thighs ai-e the places
where they are principally seen : more rarely on the
head and face. Many have a swelling of the legs,
which is harder, and retains the impression of the fin¬
ger longer than the common dropsical or truly oede-
matous swellings. The slightest wounds and bruises,
in scorbutic habits, degenerate into foul and unio-
ward ulcers 5 and the appearance of these ulcers is
so singular and uniform, that they are easily distin¬
guished from all others. Scorbutic ulcers afford no
good digestion, but give out a thin and fetid ichor
mixed with blood, which at length has the appear¬
ance ol coagulated gore lying caked on the surface
of the sore, not to be separated or wiped oft without
some difficulty. The flesh underneath these sloughs
leels to the probe soft and spongy, and is very putrid.
Neither detergents nor escharotics are here of any
service ; for though such sloughs be with great pains
taken away, they are found again at the next dressing,
where the same sanguineous putrid appearance always
presents itself, Their edges are generally of a livid co¬
lour, and pulled up with excrescences of proud flesh ari¬
sing from below the skin. As the violence of the dis¬
ease increases, the ulcers shoot out a soft bloody fungus,
which often rises in a night’s time to a monstrous size}
and although destroyed by cauteries, actual or potential,
01 cut away with the knife, is found at next dressing as
large as ever. It is a considerable time, however, be-
loie these ulcers, bad as they are, come to affect the
bones with rottenness. These appearances will always
sei ve to assure us that an ulcer is scorbutic j and should
put us on our guard with respect to the giving mer¬
curials, which are very generally pernicious in these
cases.
Scorbutic people, as the disease advances, are seldoi
free from pains 5 though they have not the same se;
in all, and often in the same person shift their plao
Some complain of universal pain in all their bones : bi
most violent in the limbs, and especially the joints : tl
most frequent seat of their pain, however, is some pa
of the breast. The pains of this disease seem to arh
horn the distraction of the sensible fibres by the extrav;
^.ated blood being forced into the interstices of the per
osteum and of the tendinous and ligamentous parts
whose texture being so firm, the fibres are liable to hi off
degrees of tension, and consequently of pain.
1 he states of the bowels are various : in some the:
p an °.4tuiate costiveness ; in others a tendency to
"it i extremely fetid stools; the urine is also rui
CINE. _ Practii
and fetid, generally high coloured j and, when it has Seorbi
stood for some hours, throws up an oily scum on the sur-
face. The pulse is variable ; but most commonly slower
and more feeble than in the time of perfect health. A
stiffness in the tendons, and weakness in the joints of
the knees, appear early in the disease •, but as it grows
more inveterate, the patients generally lose the use of
their limbs altogether 5 having a contraction of the flexor
tendons in the ham, with a swelling and pain in the
joint of the knee. Some have their legs monstrously
swelled, and covered over with livid spots or ecehy-
moses } others have had tumours there 5 some, though
without swelling, have the calves of the legs and the
flesh of the thighs quite indurated. As persons far gone
in the scurvy are apt to faint, and even expire, on be¬
ing moved and brought out into the fresh air, the ut¬
most care and circumspection are x’equisite when it is
necessary to stir or remove them.
Scorbutic patients are at all times, but more especi¬
ally as the disease advances, extremely subject to pro¬
fuse bleedings from different parts of the body 5 as from
the nose, gums, intestines, lungs, &c. and likewise
from their ulcers, which generally bleed plentifully if
the fungus be cut away. It is not easy to conceive a
more dismal and diversified scene of misery than what is
beheld in the third and last stage of this distemper ; it
being then that the anomalous and more extraordinary
symptoms appear, such as the bursting out of old wounds,
and the dissolution of old fractures that have been long-
united.
Causes. The term scurvy has been indiscriminately
applied, even by physicians, to almost all the different
kinds of cutaneous foulness ; owing to some writers of
the last century, who comprehended such a variety of
symptoms under this denomination, that there are few
chronic distempers which may not be so called, accord¬
ing to their scheme : but the disease here meant is the
true putrid scurvy, so often fatal to seamen, that with
many it has got the name of sea-scurvy, though it be a
disease frequently occurring on shore, as was experien¬
ced by the British garrisons of Boston, Minorca, and
many other places. Indeed no disease is perhaps more
frequent or more destructive to people pent up in gar¬
risons without sufficient supplies of sound animal food
and fresh vegetables. It is sometimes known to be en¬
demic in certain countries, where the nature of the
soil, the general state of the atmosphere, and the com¬
mon course of diet, all combine in producing that sin¬
gular species of corruption in the mass of blood which
constitutes the scorbutic diathesis } for the appearances,
on dissecting scorbutic subjects, sufficiently show that
the scurvy may, with great propriety, be termed a dis¬
ease of the blood.
Dr Lind h as, in a postscript to the third edition of
his treatise on the scurvy, given the result of his
observations drawn from the dissection of a consider¬
able number of victims to this fatal malady ; from which
it appears that the true scorbutic state, in an advanced
stage of the distemper, consists in numerous effusions
of blood into the cellular interstices of most parts of
the body, superficial as well as internal particularly
the gums and the legs 5 the texture of the former
being almost entirely cellular, and the generally de¬
pendent state of the latter, rendering these parts of
all others in the whole body, the most apt to receive
)Ctl'
dice. M E D I
and retain the stagnant blood, when its crasis' comes to
be destroyed ; and when it loses that glutinous quality
1 which, during health, hinders it from escaping through
the pores in the coats of the blood-vessels or through ex-
halant extremities.
A dropsical indisposition, especially in the legs and
breasts was frequently, but not always, observed in the
subjects that were opened, and the pericardium was
sometimes found distended with water: the water thus
collected was often so sharp as to shrivel the hands of
the dissector ; and in some instances, where the skin
happened to be broken, it irritated and festered the
wound.
The fleshy fibres were found so extremely lax and
tender, and the bellies of the muscles in the legs and
thighs so stuffed with the effused stagnating blood,
that it was always difficult, and sometimes impossible,
to raise or separate one muscle from another. He says
that the quantity of this effused blood was amazing j
in some bodies it seemed that almost a fourth part of
the whole mass had escaped from the vessels j and it
often lay in large concretions on the periosteum, and
in some few instances under this membrane immediate¬
ly on the bone. Notwithstanding this dissolved and
depraved state of the external fleshy parts, the brain
always appeared perfectly sound, and the viscera of the
abdomen, as well as those of the thorax, were in
general found quite uncorrupted. There were spots
indeed, from extravasated blood, observed on the mesen¬
tery, intestines, stomach, and omentum 5 but these spots
were firm, and free from any mortified taint; and, more
than once, an effusion of blood, as large as a hand’s-
breadth, has been seen on tbe surface of the stomach 5
and what was remarkable, that very subject was not
known while living to have made any complaint of
sickness, pain, or other disorder, in either stomach or
bowels.
These circumstances and appearances, with many
others that are not here enumerated, all prove to a de¬
monstration a putrescent, or at least a highly depraved
state of the blood: and yet Dr Lind takes no small
pains to combat the idea of the scurvy’s proceeding
from animal putrefaction 5 a notion which, according
to him, “ may, and hath misled physicians to pro¬
pose and administer remedies for it altoo-ether ineffec-
tual.”
He also, in the preface to his third edition, talks of
the mischief done by an attachment to delusive theo¬
ries. He says, “ it is not probable that a remedy for
the scurvy will ever be discovered from a preconceived
hypothesis, or hv speculative men in the closet, who have
never seen the disease, or who have seen at most only a
few cases of it 5” and adds, “ that though a few partial
facts and observations may, for a little, flatter with hopes
ot greater success, yet more enlarged experience must
ever evince the fallacy of all positive assertions in the
healing art.”
Sir John Pringle, however, is of a very different
opinion. He “ is persuaded, after long reflection, and
the opportunities he has had of conversing with those
who to much sagacity had joined no small experience
in nautical practice, that upon an examination of the
several articles which have either been of old approved,
br have of late been introduced into the navy, it will
appear, that though these means may vary in form
z
CINE.
429
and in mode of operating, yet they all some way cor- Scorbutus,
tribute towards preventing putrefaction ; whether of ——v—- ■'
the air in the closer parts of a ship, of the meats, of
the water, of the clothes and bedding, or of the body
itself.”
V* hat Dr Lind has above advanced is the more re¬
markable, as, in the two former editions of his book,
he embraced the hypothesis of animal putrefaction be¬
ing the cause of the scurvy j and if these effusions of
blood, from a destruction of its crasis and the dissolved
state of the muscular fibres, together with the rotten
condition of the mouth and gums, do not betray pu-
trescency, it is hard to say what does, or what other-
name we shall bestow on this peculiar species of depra¬
vation which constitutes the scurvy.
The blood, no doubt, derives its healthy properties,
and maintains them, from the due supplies of wholesome
food; while the insoluble, superfluous, effete, and acrid
parts, are carried off by the several discharges of stool,
urine, and perspiration,
Our senses of taste and smell are sufficient to inform
us when our food is in a state of soundness and sweet¬
ness, and consequently wholesome j but it is from che¬
mistry that we must learn the principles on which these
qualities chiefly depend.
Experiments of various kinds have proved, that the
soundness of animal and vegetable substances depends
very much, if not entirely, on the presence of their
aerial principle. Rottenness is never observed to take
place without an emission of fixed air from tbe putrefy¬
ing substance : and even when putrefaction has made a
considerable progress, if aerial acid can be tranferred,
in sufficient quantity, from some other substance in a
state of effervescence or fermentation, into the putrid
body, the offensive smell of this will be destroyed. If
it be a bit of rotten flesh with which the experiment is
made, the firmness of its fibres will be found in some
measure restored.
The experiments of Dr Hales, as well as many
others made since his time, show that an aerial prin¬
ciple is greatly connected with, and particularly abun¬
dant in, the gelatinous parts ot animal bodies, and in
the mucilage or farina ot vegetables. But these are
the parts of our food which are most particularly nu¬
tritive ; and Dr Cullen, whose opinion on this as on
every other medical subject must be allowed of the
greatest weight, affirms, in his Lectures on the Mate¬
ria Medica, that the substances on which we feed are
nutritious only in proportion to the quantities of oil
and sugar which they respectively contain. I his oil
and sugar are blended together in the gelatinous part
of our animal food, and in the mucilaginous and fari¬
naceous part of esculent vegetables 5 and, while thus
intimately combined, are not perceivable by our taste,
though very capable of being developed and rendered
distinct by the power of the digestive organs ; for in
consequence of the changes produced during digestion,
the oily and the saccharine matter become manifest to
our senses, as we may see and taste in the milk of
animals, which is chiefly chyle a little advanced in its
progress toward sanguification ; the oil is observed to
separate spontaneously, and from which a quantity ot
actual sugar may be obtained by a very simple pro¬
cess.
Thus much being premised, we can now readily
comprehend
43°
- Impeti- comprehend how the blood may come to lose those
gines. qualities of smoothness, mildness, and tenacity which
1 v are natural to it. I or if, in the first place, the fluids,
and organs subservient to digestion, should he so far
distempered or debilitated that the nutritious parts of
the food cannot be properly developed, the blood must
be defrauded of its due supplies j which will also be the
case if the aliment should not originally contain enough
of oily and saccharine matter, or should be so circum¬
stanced, from being dried or salted, as to hinder the
ready extrication of the nutritious parts j or, lastly, if
the natural discharges should be interrupted or suspend¬
ed, so that the superfluous, acrid, and effete fluids are re¬
tained in the general mass} in all these instances the
blood must of necessity run into proportionate degrees of
depravation.
And hence we may understand how it may possibly
happen, that when persons are greatly weakened by
some preceding disorder, and at the same time debarred
the use of proper bodily exercise, the scorbutic diathesis
should take place, even though they enjoy the advan¬
tages of pure air and wholesome diet. But these are
solitary cases, and very rarely seen; for whenever the
scurvy seizes numbers, and can be considered as an epi¬
demic disease, it will be found to depend on a combina¬
tion of the major part, or perhaps all, of the following
circumstances:
i. A moist atmosphere, and more especially if cold
be joined to this moisture. 2. Too long cessation
from bodily exercise, whether it be from constraint,
or a lazy slothful disposition. 3. Dejection of mind.
4. Neglect of cleanliness, and Want of sufficient cloth¬
ing. 5. Want of wholesome drink, either of pure wa¬
ter or fermented liquors. And, 6. Above all, the being
obliged to live continually on salted meats, perhaps not
well cured, without a due proportion of the vegetables
sufficient to correct the pernicious tendency of the salt,
by supplying the bland oil and saccharine matter requi¬
site for the purposes of nutrition;
These general principles respecting the causes and
nature of scurvy, seem to afford a better explanation
of the phenomena of the disease than any conjectures
respecting it that have hitherto been proposed. It
must, however, be allowed, that Dr Lind is by no
means the only writer who is disposed to consider this
disease as not referable to the condition of the circu¬
lating fluids. In a late ingenious treatise on this sub¬
ject by Sir F. Milman, he strenuously contends, that the
primary morbid affection in this complaint is a debili¬
tated state of the solids arising principally from want
of aliment. But his arguments on this subject, as well
as those of Dr Lind, are very ably answered by a still
later writer on this subject, Dr Trotter, who has drawn
his observations respecting it from very extensive expe¬
dience, and who considers it as clearly established, by
incontrovertible facts, that the proximate cause of
scurvy depends on some peculiar state of the blood, 
That this disease does not depend on a debilitated state
of the solids, is demonstratively proved from numerous
cases where every possible degree of debility occurs in
the solids without the slightest appearance of scurvy.
Dr Trotter, in the second edition of his Observations
on the Scurvy, from the result of farther observation
and later discoveries in chemistry, has attempted, with
■much ingenuity, to prove that the morbid condition
Practi
of the blood, which takes place in scurvy, arises from scort
the abstraction of vital air, or, as it is now generally
called, oxygene; and this opinion, though still, per¬
haps, in some particulars requiring farther confirmation,
is, it must be allowed, supported by many plausible ar¬
guments.
Prevention and Cure. The scurvy may be prevent¬
ed, by obviating and correcting those circumstances
in respect of the non-naturals which were mentioned as
contributing to the disease, and laid down as causes.
It is, therefore, a duty highly incumbent on officers
commanding at sea, or in garrisons, to use eveiy pos¬
sible precaution 5 and, in the first place, to correct the
coldness and moisture of the atmosphere by sufficient
*fires: in the next, to see that their men be lodged in
dry, clean, and well ventilated births or apartments:
thirdly, to promote cheerfulness, and enjoin frequent
exercise, which alone is of infinite use in preventing
the scurvy: fourthly, to take care that the clothing
be proper, and cleanliness of person strictly observed:
fifthly, to supply them with wholesome drink, either
ipure water or sound fermented liquors •, and if spirits
be allowed, to have them properly diluted with wa¬
ter and sweetened with melasses or coarse sugar: and
lastly, to order the salted meats to be sparingly used,
or sometimes entirely abstained from; and in their
place, let the people live on different compositions of
the dried vegetables ; fresh meat and recent vegetables
being introduced as often as they can possibly be pro¬
cured.
A close attention to these matters will, in general,
prevent the scurvy from making its appearance at all,
and will always hinder it from spreading its influence
far. But when these precautions have been neglected,
or the circumstances such that they cannot be put in
practice, and the disease has actually taken place,
our whole endeavour must he to restore the blood to
its original state of soundness : and happily, such is
the nature of this disease, that if a sufficiency of
new matter, of the truly mild nutritious sort, and par¬
ticularly such as abounds with vital air, such as re¬
cent vegetables, or different acid fruits, can be thrown
into the circulation while the fleshy fibres retain
any tolerable degree of firmness, the patient will re¬
cover ; -and that in a surprisingly short space of time,
provided a pure air, comfortable lodgings, sufficient
clothing, cleanliness, and exercise, lend their necessary
aid.
'I his being the case, the plan of treatment is to be
conducted almost entirely in the dietetic way 5 as the
change in the mass of blood, which it is necessary to
produce, must be brought about by things that can be
received into the stomach by pints or pounds, and not
by those which are administered in drops or grains,
drams or ounces. For here, as there is no disorder
of the nervous system, we have no need of those
active drugs which are indispensably necessary in fe¬
brile or nervous diseases) the scorbutic diathesis be-
ing quite opposite to that which tends to produce a
fever or any species of spasmodic disorders; nay Dr
Lind says, he has repeatedly found, that even the in¬
fection of an hospital fever is long resisted by a scor¬
butic habit.
It will now naturally occur to the reader, what
those alimentary substances must be which bid the
fairest
MEDICINE.
MEDICINE.
.
I .dice.
peti_ fairest to restore tlie blood to its healthy state ; and he
nes, needs scarcely to be told, that they are of those kinds
Jj y—^ which the stomach can bear with pleasure though ta¬
ken in large quantities, which abound with jelly or mu¬
cilage, and which allow those nutritious parts to be
easily developed 5 for though the viscera in scorbutic
patients may be all perfectly sound, yet we cannot ex¬
pect that either the digestive fluids or organs should
possess the same degrees of power, which enable them,
during health, to convert the crude dry farinacea, and
the hard salted flesh of animals, into nourishment. We
must therefore search for the antiscorbutic virtue in the
tender sweet flesh of herbivorous animals j in new
milk; and in the mucilaginous acid juices of re¬
cent vegetables, whether they be fruits, leaves, or
roots.
The sour juices of lemons, oranges, and limes, have
been generally held as antiscorbutics in an eminent de¬
gree, and their power ascribed to their acid •, from an
idea that acids of all kinds are the only correctors of
putrefaction. But the general current of practical
observations shows, and our experiments confirm it,
that the virtue of these juices depends on their aerial
'principle ; accordingly, while perfectly recent and in
the mucilaginous state, and especially if mixed with
wine and sugar, the juices of any one of these fruits
will be found a most grateful and powerful antiscor¬
butic.
Dr Lind observing, “ that the lemon juice, when
given by itself undiluted, wras apt, especially if over¬
dosed, to have too violent an operation, by occasion-;
ing pain and sickness at the stomach, and sometimes a
vomiting 5 found it necessary to add to it wane and su¬
gar. A pint of Madeira wine, and two ounces of su¬
gar, were put to four ounces and a half of juice, and
tins quantity was found sufficient for weak patients to
use in 24 hours : such as were very w’eak sipped a little
of this frequently according as their strength would
permit •, othei’s who were sti’ongcr took about two oun¬
ces of it every two hours j and when the patients grexv
still stronger, they were allowed eight ounces of lemon
juice in 24 hours.”
While this very pleasant mixture, which is both a.
cordial and an antiseptic, may be had, it would be
needless to think of prescribing any other j but when
the fresh juice cannot be procured, wre must have re-;
course to such other things as may be obtained. But
the various modes of combining and administering,
these, so as to render them perfectly agreeable to the
stomach, must always be regulated by circumstances,
and therefore it will be in vain to lay down parti¬
cular directions j since all that we have to do is, to fix
on such fruits and other fresh vegetables as can be most
conveniently had and taken, and contrive to give them
in those forms, either alone or boiled up with flesh meat
into soups, which will allow7 the patients to, consume
the greatest quantities.
The first promising alteration from such a course is
usually a gentle diarrhoea 5 and if, in a few days, the
skin becomes soft and moist, it is an infallible sign of
recovery j especially if the patient gain strength, and
can bear being stirred or carried into the open air with-,
out fainting.
But if the belly should not be loosened by the use of
the fresh vegetables, nor the skin become soft and moist,
then they must be assisted by stewed prunes, or a decoc- Scorbutus,
tion of tamarinds with supertartrite of potash, in order-v—-1
to abate the costiveness ; and by drinking a little decoc¬
tion of the woods, and warm bathing, in order to x'dax
the pores of the skin ; for nothing contributes more to
the recovery of scorbutic patients than moderate sweat¬
ing.
With regard to particular symptoms, antiseptic
mouth waters, composed of a decoction of cinchona and
infusion of roses, with a solution of myrrh, must be used
occasionally, in order to cleanse the mouth, and give
firmness to the spongy gums. Swelled and indurated
limbs, and stiffened joints, must be bathed with warm
vinegar, and relaxed by the steam of warm water,
repeatedly conveyed to them, and confined to the parts
by means of close blankets : ulcers on the legs must
never be treated with unctuous applications nor sharp
escharotics ; but the dressing shouldconsist of lint or soft
rags, dipt in a strong decoction of cinchona.
This disease at no time requires, or indeed bears
large evacuations, either by bleeding or purging ; and
as has been already mentioned, the belly must only be
keptopen by the fresh vegetables or the mildest laxatives.
Be we ai-e always to be careful that scorbutic persons,
after a long abstinence from greens and fruits, be nob
permitted to eat voraciously at first, lest they fall into a
fatal dysentery.
All, however, that has now been laid down as ne¬
cessary towards the cure, supposes the patients to be
in situations where they can be plentifully furnished
with all the requisites ; but unhappily these things are
not to be procured at sea, and often deficient in gai’-
risons : in order therefore, that a remedy for the scur¬
vy might never be wanting, Dr Macbride in the year.
1762, first conceived the notion, that the infusion of
malt, commonly called wort, might be substituted;
for the common antiscorbutics 5 and it was accordingly
tried.
More than three years elapsed before any account
arrived of the- expei'iments having been made : at
length, ten histories of cases were x-eceived, wherein
the wort had been tried, with very remarkable success j
and this being judged a matter of great importance to
the seafax-ing part of mankind, these were immediate¬
ly communicated to the. public in a pamphlet, under
the title of An historical account of a new method of
treating the scurvy at sea.
This was in 17675 but after that time a consider-,
able number of letters and medical journals, sufficient
to make up a small volume, were transmitted to Dr
Macbride, particularly by the surgeons of his majesty’s
ships who had been employed of late years for mak¬
ing discoveries in the southern hemisphere. Certain
it is, that in many instances it has succeeded beyond
expectation. In others it has fallen short: but whether
this was owing to the untoward situation ol the pa¬
tients, or inattention on the part of the persons who
were charged with the administration of the wort, not
preparing it properly, or not giving it in sufficient
quantity, or to its own want of power, must be col¬
lected from the cases and journals themselves.
During Captain Cook’s third voyage, the most re¬
markable, in i-espect of the healthiness of the crew,
that ever was performed, the wort is acknowledged to
have been of singular use.
In
432
I m | k ti-
gines.
M E D I
In a letter wliicli tins very celebrated and success¬
ful circumnavigator wrote to Sir John Pringle, he
gives an account of the methods pursued for preserv¬
ing the health of his people 5 and which were pro¬
ductive of such happy effects, that he performed “ a
voyage of three years and 18 days, through all the
climates from 52° north to 710 south, with the loss ot
one man only by disease, and who died of a compli¬
cated and lingering illness, without any mixture of
scurvy. Two others were unfortunately drowned, and
one killed by a fall; so that out of the whole number
n8 with which he set out from England, he lost only
four.”
He says, that much was owing to the extraordinary
attention of the admiralty, in causing such articles to
he put on board as either by experience or conjecture
were judged to tend most to preserve the health of sea¬
men : and with respect to the wort, he expresses him¬
self as follows :
“ We had on board a large quantity of malt, of
which was made sweet wort, and given (not only to
those men who had manifest symptoms of the scurvy,
but to such also as were, from circumstances, judged
to be most liable to that disorder) from one or two to
three pints in the day to each man, or in such propor¬
tion as the surgeon thought necessary, which some¬
times amounted to three quarts in the 24 hours : this
is without doubt one of the best sea antiscorbutic
medicines yet found out; and if given in time, will,
with proper attention to other things, I am persuaded,
prevent the scurvy from making any great progress
for a considerable time : but I am not altogether of
opinion that it will cure it, in an advanced state, at
sea.”
On this last point, however, the captain and his
surgeon differ 5 lor this gentleman positively asserts,
and lus journal (in Hr iVIacbride’s possession) confirms
it, that the infusion of malt did effect a cure m a con¬
firmed case, and at sea.
The malt being thoroughly dried, and packed u;
in small casks, is carried to sea, where it will keej
sound, in every variety of climate, for at least t\vi
yeai s . when wanted for use, it is to be ground in i
hand mill, and the infusion prepared from day to day
by pouring three measures of boiling water on ou
01 the ground malt 5 the mixture being well mashed
ii left to infuse for 10 or 12 hours, and the clear in
iusion then strained oft. The patients are to drink i
m such quantities as may be deemed necessary, fror
one to three quarts in the course of the 24 hours : ;
panada is also to be made of it, by adding biscuit
and currants or raisins; and this palatable mess is use
by way of solid food. This course of diet, like tha
of the recent vegetables, generally keeps the bowel
sufficiently open ; but in cases where costiveness never
the]ess prevails, gentle laxatives must be interpose
from time to time, together with diaphoretics, and th
topical assistants, fomentations and gargles, as in th
common way of management.
Captain Cook was also provided with a large stoc!
of sour krout; (cabbage leaves cut small, fermente
and stopped in the second stage of fermentation, an
afterwards preserved by a due quantity of salt). 1
pound of tms was served to each man twice a-week
1 e iey were at sea. Sour krout, since the trk
CINE. ' _ Practi,
made of it on hoard Captain Cook’s ships, has been Scorbr
extensively used by direction of the British govern- ^—y-
ment in many other situations, where scorbutus has
prevailed ; and it has been found to be highly service¬
able both in preventing and in curing the disease. It
was particularly found, during the late American war,
to be highly beneficial to the British troops besieged
in Boston, who were at that time entirely fed on salt
provisions sent from England, and among whom true
scorbutus was very fatal till the sour krout arrived.
The scurvy at one period broke out among them with
very alarming appearances; but by the seasonable ar¬
rival of a quantity of sour krout, it was effectually over¬
come. Care, however, must he bestowed, that this ar¬
ticle be properly prepared and properly kept. When
due attention is paid to these particulars, it may be
preserved in good condition for many months ; and is
considered both by sailors and soldiers as a very accept¬
able addition to their salt provisions. But when served
out to them in a putrid state, it is not only highly dis¬
agreeable to the taste, but probably also pernicious in
its effects.
Among other means of preventing scurvy, Captain
Cook had also a liberal supply of portable soup;
of which the men had generally an ounce, three
days in the week, boiled up with their pease ; and
sometimes it was served to them oftener; and when
they could get fresh greens, it was boiled up with
them, and made such an agreeable mess, that it
Was the means of making the people eat a greater
quantity of greens than they would otherwise have
done. And what was still of further advantage,
they were furnished with sugar in lieu of butter or
oil, which is seldom of the sweetest sort ; so that
the crew were undoubtedly great gainers by the ex¬
change.
In addition to all these advantages of being so
well provided with every necessary, either in the way
of diet or medicine, Captain Cook was remarkably at¬
tentive to all the circumstances respecting cleanliness,
exercise, sufficient clothing, provision of pure water,
and purification of the air in the closer parts of the
ship.
From the effect of these different means, as em¬
ployed by Captain Cook, there can be little doubt
that they will with due attention he sufficient for
the prevention and cure of the disease, at least in
most situations : but besides these, there are also some
other articles which may be employed with great ad¬
vantage.
Newly brewed spruce beer made from a decoction
of the tops of the spruce fir and melasses, is an ex¬
cellent antiscorbutic ; it acts in the same way that the
wort does, and will be found of equal efficacy, and
therefore may be substituted. Where the tops of
the spruce fir are not to be had, this beer may be pre¬
pared from the essence of spruce, as it has been call¬
ed, an article which keeps easily for a great length of
time. But in situations where neither the one nor
the other can be had, a most salutary mess may be
prepared fiom oatmeal, by infusing it in water,
in a. wooden vessel, till it ferments, and begins to
turn sourish: which generally happens, in mode¬
rately warm weather, in the space of two days.—
Ihe liquor is then strained off from the grounds.
•actice.
npeti- and Lolled down t<* tLe consistence of a jelly, -which is
rincs. to be eaten with wine and sugar, or with butter and
sugar.
Nothing is more commonly talked of than a land
scurvy, as a distinct species of disease from that which
has been now described ) but no writer has yet given
a description so clear as to enable us to distinguish it
from the various kinds of cutaneous foulness and erup¬
tion, which indeed are vulgarly termed scorbutic, but
which are akin to the itch or leprosy, and for the most
part require mercurials. These, however, are very dif¬
ferent diseases from the true scorbutus, which, it is well
known, may prevail in certain situations on land as
well as at sea, and is in no degree to be attributed to
sea air.
Genus LXXXVII. ELEPHANTIASIS.
35*
Elephantiasis, Sauv. grn. 302. log. 321. Sag.
gen. 128.
Elephantia Arabum, fog. 322.
The best account of this disease is that by Dr He-
berden, published in the first volume of the Medical
Transactions. According to him, frequently the first
symptom is a sudden eruption of tubercles, or bumps
of different sizes, of a red colour, more or less intense
(attended with great heat and itching) on the body,
legs, arms, and face j sometimes in the face and neck
alone, at other times occupying the limbs only •, the
patient is feverish •, the fever ceasing, the tubercles re¬
main indolent, and in some degree scirrhous, of a livid
or copper colour, but sometimes of the natural colour
of the skin, or at least very little altered ; and after
some months they not unfrequently ulcerate, discharging
a fetid ichorous humour in small quantity, but never
laudable pus.
The features of the face swell and enlarge greatly ;
the part above the eyebrows seems inflated ; the hair
of the eyebrows falls oft’, as does the hair of the beard ;
but Dr Heberden has never seen any one whose hair
has not remained on his head. The alee nasi are swell¬
ed and scabrous } the nostrils patulous, and sometimes
affected with ulcers, which, corroding the cartilage and
septum nasi, occasion the nose to fall. The lips are tu¬
mid } the voice is hoai’se ; which symptom has been ob¬
served when no ulcers have appeared in the throat, al¬
though sometimes both the throat and gums are ulce¬
rated. The ears, particularly the lobes, are thickened,
and occupied by tubercles. The nails grow scabrous
and rugose, appearing something like the rough bark
of a tree ; and the distemper advancing, corrodes the
parts gradually with a dry sordid scab or gangrenous
ulcer; so that the fingers and toes rot and separate
joint after joint. In some patients the legs seem rather
posts than legs, being no longer of the natural shape,
but swelled to an enormous size, and indurated, not
yielding to the pressure of the fingers ) and the super¬
ficies is covered with very thin scales, of a dull whitish
colour, seemingly much finer, but not so white as those
observed in the lepra Grcecornm. The whole limb is
overspread with tubercles, interspersed with deep fis¬
sures 5 sometimes the limb is covered with a thick moist
scabby crust, and not unfrequently the tubercles ulce¬
rate. In others the legs are emaciated, and sometimes
Vol. XIII. Part II.
431
ulcerated 5 at other times affected with tubercles with- Elephanti-
out ulceration. The muscular .flesh between the thumb asis-
and forefinger is generally extenuated. '““"“v *
The whole skin, particularly that of the face, has a
remarkably shining appearance, as if it was varnished
or finely polished. The sensation in the parts affected
is very obtuse, or totally abolished 5 so that pinching,
or puncturing the part, gives little or no uneasiness ^
and in some patients, the motion of the fingers and toes
is quite destroyed. The breath is very offensive ; tha
pulse in general weak and slow.
The disease often attacks the patient in a different
manner from that above described, beginning almost in ¬
sensibly ; a few indolent tubercles appearing on various-
parts of the body or limbs, generally on the legs or
arms, sometimes on the face, neck, or breast, and some¬
times in the lobes of the ears, increasing by very slow
degrees, without any disorder, previous or concomitant,
iu respect of pain or uneasiness.
To distinguish the distemper from its manner of at¬
tacking the patient, Dr Heberden styles the first by
fluxion and the other by congestion. That hy fluxion
is often the attendant of a crapula, or surfeit from gross
foods j wherebv, perhaps, the latent seeds of the disor¬
der yet dormant in the mass of blood are excited j and
probably from frequent observations of this kind (the
last meal being always blamed), it is, that, according
to the received opinion, either fish, (the tunny, macka-
rel, and shell-fish, in particular), melons, cucumbers,
young garden-beans, or mulberries, eaten at the same
meal with butter, cheese, or any preparation of milk,
are supposed to produce the distemper, ami are accord¬
ingly religiously avoided.
^ iolent commotions of the mind, as anger, fear, and
grief, have more than once been observed to have given
rise to the disorder: and more frequently, in the female
sex, a sudden suppression of an accustomed evacuation,
hy bathing the legs and feet in cold water at an impro¬
per season.
The disorder by fluxion is what is the oftenest endea¬
voured to he remedied by timely application ; that by
congestion, not being so conspicuous, is generally either
neglected or attempted to be concealed, until perhaps
it be too late to be cured, at least unless the patients
would submit to a longer course of medicine and stricter
regimen of diet than they are commonly inclined to
do.
Several incipient disorders byfluxion have been known
to yield to an antiphlogistic method, as bleeding, re¬
frigerant salts in the saline draughts, and a solution
of crystals of tartar in water, for common drink, (by
this means endeavouring to precipitate part of the pec¬
cant matter, perhaps too gross to pass the pores by the
kidneys) ; and when once the fever is overcome, <du-
chona combined with sassafras, is the remedy princi¬
pally to be relied on. The only topical medicine pre¬
scribed by Dr Heberden, was an attenuating embroca¬
tion of brandy and alkaline spirit. By the same method
some confirmed cases have been palliated. But, except¬
ing in one patient, Dr Heberden never saw or heard ot
a confirmed elephantiasis radically cuied. He adds,
however, that he never met with another patient pos¬
sessed of prudence and perseverance enough to prose¬
cute the cure as he ought.
t 3l
MEDICINE.
Genus
434
Impeti-
gines.
M E D I
Genus LXXXVIII. LEPRA.
The Leprosy.
Lepra, Sauv. gen. 303. Lin. 262. Sag. 129.
Lepra Gracorum, Vog. 320.
This distemper is but little known to physicians in
the western parts of Europe. Wallis tells us, that it
first begins with red pimples, or pustules, breaking Out
in various parts of the body. Sometimes they appear
single) sometimes a great number arise together, espe¬
cially on the arms and legs; as the disease increases,
fresh pimples appear, which, joining the former, make
*1, sort of clusters ; all which enlarge their borders, and
spread in an orbicular form. The superficies of these
pustules are rough, whitish, and scaly ; when they are
scratched the scales fall off, upon which a thin ichor
oozes out, which soon dries and hardens into a scaly
crust. These clusters of pustules are at first small and
few ; perhaps only three or four in an arm or leg, and
of the size of a silver penny. But if the disease be suf¬
fered to go on, they become more numerous, and the
clusters increase to the size of a crown-piece, but not
exactly round. Afterwards the affection increases to
such a degree, that the whole body is covered with a le¬
prous scurf. The cure of this distemper is very much
the same with that of the Elephantiasis. Here, how¬
ever, recourse is frequently had to antimonial and mer¬
curial medicines, continued for a considerable length of
time. In conjunction with these, warm bathing, par¬
ticularly the vapour bath, has often been employed
■with advantage.
Although what can strictly be called lepra is now,
at least, a very rare disease in this country, yet to this
general head may be referred a variety of cutaneous
affections which are here very common, and which
in many instances prove very obstinate. These appear
under a variety of different forms : sometimes under
that ol red pustules : sometimes of white scurfs j some¬
times ol ulcerations ; and not unfrequently a transi¬
tion takes place from one form to another, so that
they cannot be divided into different genera from the
external appearance. These affections will often yield
to the remedies already mentioned } but where anti-
niomals and mercurials either fail, or from different
circumstances are considered as unadviseable, a cure
may sometimes be effected by others. In particular
cases, purging mineral waters, the decoction of cincho¬
na, the inlusion oi the oennnthe crocata, and various
others, have been employed with success. Different
external applications also have sometimes been em¬
ployed with advantage. An article used in this way,
known under life name of Gowland’s lotion, with
the composition of which we are unacquainted, has
ceen much celebrated, and has been said to be employ¬
ed with great success, particularly against eruptions on
the face and nose.
Genus LXXXTX. FRAMBOESIA.
The Yaws.
Framboesia, Sauv. gen. 125. Sag. 125.
Description. The description which is given of this
CINE.
distemper by the anonymous author of a paper in the 6thFrainlicei
volume of the Edinburgh Medical Essays, (art. 76.) dif- -y—
fers, in some circumstances, from one that Sauvages re¬
ceived from M. Virgile, an eminent surgeon of Mont¬
pelier, who practised twelve years in the island of St
.Domingo; and therefore he distinguishes the framboc,-
sia into two species, Guineensis and Amer icana.
T\\e frambccsia Guineensis is said by the first-men¬
tioned writer to be so common on the coast of Guinea
and other parts of Africa, that it seldom fails to at¬
tack each individual of both sexes, one time or other,
in the course of their lives : but most commonly dur¬
ing childhood or youth. “ It makes its appearance
in little spots on the cuticle, level with the skin, at
first no larger than a pin’s head, which increase daily,
and become protuberant like pimples: soon after the
cuticle frets off, and then, instead of finding pus or
ichor, in this small tumor, only white sloughs or
sordes appear, under which is a small red fungus,
growing out of the cutis, increasing gradually to very
different magnitudes, some less than the smallest ivood
strawberry, some as big as a raspberry, and others ex¬
ceeding in size even the largest mulberries; which ber¬
ries they very much resemble, being knobbed as these
are.” These protuberances, which give the name to
the disease, appear on all parts of the body : but the
greatest numbers, and the largest sized, are generally
found in the groins, and about the pudenda or anus, in
the armpits, and on the face : when the yaws are very
large, they are few in number; and when remarkably
numerous, they are less in size. The patients, in all
other respects, enjoy good health, do not lose their ap¬
petite, and seem to have little other uneasiness than
what the sores occasion.
M. Virgile describes the species of yaws that is
common among the negroes of St Domingo, and
which Sauvages has termed frambecsia Americana, as
beginning from an ulcer that breaks out indiscriminate¬
ly in different parts of the body, though most common¬
ly on the legs j at first superficial, and not different
from a common ulcer in any other circumstance saving
its not healing by the usual applications; sooner or
later, numerous fungous excrescences break out on the
surface of the body, as before described, like little ber¬
ries, moist, with a reddish mucus. Besides these, the
soles of the feet and palms of the hands become raw,
the skin fretting off, so as to leave the muscles bare;
these excoriations are sometimes moist with ichor and
sometimes dry, but always painful, and consequently
very distressing. They are mentioned also by the au¬
thor of the article in the Medical Essays j and both
he and M. \ irgile observe, that there is always one
excrescence, or yaw, of an uncommon size, which is
longer in falling off than the others, and which is con¬
sidered as the master-yaw, and so termed. An ingeni¬
ous inaugural dissertation on the subject of the yaws
was lately published at Edinburgh by Dr Jonathan
Anderson Ludford, now physician in Jamaica. The
author of that dissertation considers Dr Cullen as im¬
properly referring framboesia to the class of cachexiae.
He thinks that this disease ought rather to be referred
to tne exanthemata; for, like the smallpox, he tells us,
it has its accession, height, and decline. It begins
with some degree of fever either more or less violent 5
it may be propagated by inoculation j and it attacks
the
e. M K 1) 1
the same individual only once in the course of a life¬
time, those who recover from the disease being never
afterwards aftected with it. These particulars re¬
specting framboesia are rested not merely on the au-
thoVity of Dr Ludford, but are supported also by the
testimony of Dr "William Wright, a physician of di¬
stinguished eminence, who, while he resided in Jamai¬
ca, had, in the course of extensive practice, many op¬
portunities of observing this disease, and to whom Dr
Ludford acknowledges great obligations for having
communicated to him many important facts respect¬
ing it.
Dr Ludford considers the yaws as being in everv
instance the consequence of contagion, and as depend¬
ing on a matter suigeneris. He supposes no peculiar
predisposition from diet, colour, or other circumstan¬
ces, as being in any degree necessary. Ife views
the disease as chiefly arising from contact with the
matter, in consequence of sleeping in the same bed,
washing in the same vessel with the infected, or the
like. In short, the yaws may be communicated by
any kind of contact; nay, it is even believed that flies
often convey the infection, when, after having gorged
themselves with the virulent matter by sucking the ul¬
cers of those who are diseased, they make punctures in
the skin of such as are sound, and thus inoculate
them} in consequence of which the disorder will soon
appear.
Prognosis. The yaws are not dangerous, if the cure
he skilfully managed at a proper time j hut if the pa¬
tient has been prematurely salivated, or has taken any
quantity of mercury, and if his skin has been suddenly
cleared, the cure will be very difficult, if not imprac¬
ticable.
Cure. In attempting the cure of this disease, the
four following indications are chiefly to he held in view:
1. To support the strength of the patient.
2. To promote excretion by the skin.
3. To correct the vitiated fluids.
4. To remove and counteract the injuries done either
the constitution in general, or to particular parts,
by the disease. ^
With the first of these intentions, a liberal diet, con¬
sisting of a considerable quantity of animal food, with
a considerable proportion of wine, and gentle exercise,
are to be employed : but the cure is principally to
be effected by mercurial salivation, after the virulent
matter has been completely thrown out to the surface
of the body by sudorifics. The following are the par¬
ticular directions given on this head by the author of
the article in the Medical Essays. The yaws being an
infectious disease, as soon as they begin to appear on
a negro, he must be removed to a house by himself j
or, if it is not certain whether the eruption be the
yaws or not, shut him up seven days, and look on him
again, as the Jews were commanded to do with their
lepers, and in that time you may in most cases be cer¬
tain.
As soon as you are convinced that it is the yaws,
give a bolus of flowers of sulphur, with camphor and
theriaca. Hepeat this bolus every night for a fortnight
•r three weeks, or till the yaws come to the height ;
that is, when they neither increase in size or number :
ffien throw your patient into a gentle salivation with
CINE.
calomel given in small doses, without farther prepara- Framl
turn ; five grains repeated once, twice, or thrice a-day, sia.
is sufficient, as the patient can bear it. If he spits a ''T"
quart in 24 hours, it is enough. Generally, when the
salivation is at this height, all the yaws are covered
■with dry scaly crusts or scabs ; which, if numerous,
look terribly. These fall oft’ daily in small white scales ;
and in ten or twelve days leave the skin smooth and
dean. Then the calomel may be omitted, and the sa¬
livation permitted to go off spontaneously. A dram of
corrosive sublimate dissolved in an ounce of rum or
brandy, and the solution daubed on the yaws, will, it
is said, in general clear the skin in two days time.
After the salivation, sweat the patient twice or thrice
in a frame or chair with spirits of wine ; and give an
alterative electuary of tethiops and gum guaiac. He
may likewise use the decoction of guaiacum and sassa¬
fras fermented with melasses, for his constant drink
while the electuary is taking, and a week or a fort¬
night after the electuary is finished.
The master yaw must be consumed an eighth or a
tenth part of an inch below the skin, with Mercur. cor-
ros. rub. et alum. list. part, cequal. and digested with
Vng. basil, flav. 3j. and mercur. corros. rub. gj. and ci¬
catrized with lint pressed out of spirits of wine, and
with the sulphate of copper.
After the yaws are cured, some patients are afflicted
with carbuncles in their feet \ which sometimes render
them incapable of walking, unless with pain. The
method of cure is, by bathing and paring to destroy
the cuticle, and then proceed as in the master-yaw.
The gentle escharotics are to be preferred ; and all
imaginable care is to be taken to avoid the tendons and
periosteum.
To children under six or seven years old, at the pro¬
per time of salivating, when the yaws are come to
their full growth, give a grain or two of calomel in
white sugar, once a-day, once in two days, or once in
three days, so as only to keep their mouths a little sore
till the yaws dry, and, falling off in white scales, leave
the skin clean. This succeeds always, but requires a
longer time than in adults.
In St Domingo they are salivated by unction 5 but it
does not appear that success always followed this
practice. It is also usual in that island to give the so¬
lution of corrosive sublimate along with a decoction
of sarsaparilla. Twelve ounces of this root, and 12
pounds of the coarsest sugar, macerated for 15 days in
12 quarts of water, is mentioned as a specific, and said
to be the prescription of an English physician 5 the dose
is four ounces every sixth hour.
Genus XC. TRICHOMA.
The Plica Polonica, or Plaited Hair.
Trichoma, Sauv. gen. 311. Sag. 137-
Plica, Pin. 313.
Plica sive Rhopalosis, Eqg. 323.
This disorder is only met with in Poland and Lithu¬
ania, and consists of several blood-vessels running from
the head into the ends of the hairs 5 which cleave toge¬
ther, and hang from the fiead in broad flat pieces, ge¬
nerally about an ell in length, but sometimes they are
M E D I
five or six yards lofi^ j one patient has more or less of
these, up to 2Q, and sometimes 3'0» f ney are painful
to the wearer, and odious to every spectator. At the
approach of winter an eruptive fever happens to many
in these countries : the eruptions principally infest the
head, and when at the height an ichorous humour flows
from them. Jn this state they are too tender to admit
of being touched, and the matter running down the
hairs mats them together ; the skin by degrees, break¬
ing, the ramifications of the capillary vessels following
the course of the hair, or prolonged out of the skin,
are increased to a vast length.
No method of relief is yet known ; for if the dis¬
charge be checked, or the vessels cut off, the conse¬
quence is an increase of more miserable symptoms, and
in the end death. Sennertus says, when all the morbid
matter is thrown out of the body the plicae fall oft spon¬
taneously. He further observes, that the only safe prac¬
tice in this case is, to solicit the peccant matter to the
hairs, to which it naturally tends 5 and that this is best
answered by lotions of bear’s-breech. Some say that
a decoction of the herb club-moss, and its seeds, with
which the head is to be washed, is a specific.
Genus XCI. ICTERUS.
The Jaundice.
Icterus, Lin. 224. Vog. 306. Boerh. 918. Junek.
90.
Aurigo, S'auv. gen. 306. Sag. 132.
Cachexia icterica, Hoffm. III. 301.
Description. The jaundice first shows itself by a list-
lessness and want of appetite, the patient becomes dull,
oppressed, and generally costive. These symptoms
have continued but a very short time, when a yellow
colour begins to diffuse itself over the tunica albuginea,
or white part of the eye, and the nails of the fingers 5
the urine becomes high coloured, with a yellowish se¬
diment capable of giving ,a yellow tinct to linen ; the
stools are whitish or gray. In some there is a most
violent pain in the epigastric region, which is consider¬
ably increased after meals. Sometimes the patient has
a continual propensity to sleep; but in others there is
too great watchfulness; and sometimes the pain is so
great, that though the patient be sleepy he cannot
compose himself to rest. The pains come by fits 5 and
most women who have had the jaundice and born chil¬
dren, agree, that they are more violent than labour-
pains. As the disease increases, the yellow colour be¬
comes more and more deep; an itching is felt all over
the skin ; and even the internal membranes of the vis¬
cera, the bones, and the brain itself, become tinged, as
hath been shown from dissections, where the bones have
been found tinged sometimes for years after the jaun¬
dice has been cured.
In like manner, all the secretions are affected with
the yellow colour of the bile, which in this disease is
diffused throughout the whole mass of fluids. The sa¬
liva becomes yellowish and bitter j the urine excessively
high coloured, in such a manner as to appear almost
mack; nay, the Wood itself is sometimes said to ap-
U'arTj 'a yeftow colour when drawn from a vein ; yet
iJr Heberden says, that he never saw the milk altered
m ijs col‘)ur? even in cases of very deep jaundice. In
4
C I N E. Pi
process of time the blood begins to acquire a tendency
to dissolution and putrefaction; which is known by
the patient’s colour changing from a deep yellow to a
black or dark yellow. Haemorrhages ensue from vari¬
ous parts of the body, and the patients frequently die
of an apoplexy; though in some the disease degene¬
rates into an incurable dropsy; and there have not been
wanting instances of some who have died of the dropsy
after the jaundice itself had been totally removed.
Causes. As the jaundice consists in a diffusion of
the bile throughout the whole system, it thence fol¬
lows, that whatever may favour the diffusion is also to
he reckoned among the causes of jaundice. Many dis¬
putes have arisen concerning the manner in which the
bile is introduced into the blood ; but it is now general¬
ly agreed that it is taken up by the lymphatics of the
gall-bladder and biliary ducts. Hence, a jaundice
may arise from any thing obstructing the passage of
the bile into the duodenum, or from any thing which
alters the state of the lymphatics in such a manner as
to make them capable of absorbing the bile in its na¬
tural state. Hence the jaundice may arise from scirrbi
of the liver or other viscera pressing upon the biliary
ducts, and obstructing the passage of the bile; from
flatus distending the duodenum, and shutting up the
entrance of the ductus communis choledochus into it;
from the same orifice being plugged up by viscid bile,
or other sordes ; but by far the most frequent cause of
jaundice is the formation of calculi, or more properly
biliary concretions : for although they were long con¬
sidered as being of a calcareous nature, yet more accu¬
rate experiments have now demonstrated, that they con¬
sist principally of a sebaceous matter ; accordingly, while
they are so light as to swim in water, they are also
highly inflammable. These are found of almost all
sizes, from that of a small pea to that of a walnut, or
bigger: they are of different colours ; and sometimes
appear as if formed in the inward part by crystalliza¬
tion, but of lamellae on the outer part ; though some¬
times the outward part is covered with rough and
shining crystals, while the inward part is lamellated.
These enter into the biliary ducts, and obstruct them,
causing a jaundice, with violent pain for some time ;
and which can be cured by no means till the concretion
is either passed entirely through the ductus communis
or returned into the gall-bladder. Sometimes, in the
opinion of many celebrated physicians, the jaundice is
occasioned by spasmodic constrictions of the biliary
duets ; but this is denied by others, and it is not yet
ascertained whether these ducts are capable of being
aftectcd by spasm or not, as the existence of muscular
fibres in them has not with certainty been discovered.
It cannot, however, be denied, that violent fits of pas¬
sion have often produced jaundice, sometimes tempora¬
ry, but frequently permanent. This has been by some
deemed a sufficient proof of the spasmodic contraction
ol the ducts; but their opponents supposed, that the
agitation occasioned by the passion might push forward
some biliary concretion into a narrow part of the duct,
by which means a jaundice would certainly be pro¬
duced, till the concretion was either driven backward
or forward into the duodenum altogether. But even
supposing the ducts themselves to be incapable of spasm,
yet there can be no doubt that by a spasm of the in¬
testines biliary concretions may be retained in the ducts;
Pl'tice*
t; and indeed it is principally where the duct entering
1 -s. obliquely into the intestine forms as it were a species of
u —' valve that these concretions are retained.
In a very relaxed state of the body there is also an
absorption of the bile, as in the yellow fever; and in¬
deed in all putrid disorders there is a kind of yellowish
tinct over the skin, though much less than in the true
jaundice. The reason of this is, that in these disor¬
ders there is usually an increased secretion of bile, com¬
monly of a thinner consistence than in a healthy state,
Avhile the oriliees of the lymphatics are probably en¬
larged, and thus ready to absorb a fluid somewhat
thicker than what they ought take up in a healthy
state ; but these disorders are of short duration in com-
parison with the real jaundice, which sometimes lasts
for many years. These affections, however, cannot
with propriety in any case be considered as real in¬
stances of jaundice*, for, to constitute that disease, bile
must not only be present in the blood, but wanting in
the alimentary canal.
It is observable, that women are more subject to
jaundice than men, which probably arises from their
more sedentary life ", for this, together with some of
the depressing passions of the mind, is found to pro¬
mote the accession of the disease, if not absolutely to
produce it. Pregnant women also are frequently at¬
tacked by the jaundice, which goes off* after their de¬
livery.
Prognosis. As jaundice may arise from many dif¬
ferent causes, some of which cannot be discovered du¬
ring the patient’s life, the prognosis must on this ac¬
count be very uncertain. The only cases which admit
of a cure are those depending upon biliary concretions,
or obstructions of the biliary ducts by viscid bile", for
the concretions are seldom of such a size that the ducts
will not let them pass through, though frequently not
without extreme pain. Indeed this pain, though so
violent, and almost intolerable to the sick person, af¬
fords the best prognosis ; as the physician may readily
assure his patient that there is great hope of his being
relieved from it. The coming on of a gentle diarrhoea,
attended v’ith bilious stools, together with the cessation
of pain, are signs of the disease being cured. Vv e are
not, however, always to conclude, because the disease
is not attended with acute pain, that it is therefore in¬
curable ■, for frequently the passage of a concretion
through the biliary duets is accompanied only with a
sensation of slight uneasiness.
Cure. The great object to be aimed at in the core
of jaundice is unquestionably the removal of the cause
which obstructs the passage of bile into the intestines :
Put before this can be accomplished, practices are of¬
ten necessary for alleviating urgent symptoms-, which
may be done sometimes by supplying the want of bile
in the alimentary canal, sometimes by affording an
exit for bilious matter from the genera! mass of blood,
but most frequently by obviating the effects of disten¬
tion and obstruction to the circulation in the system of
the liver.
The measures to he employed for the removal of the
obstruction must depend very much on the nature 01 the
obstructing cause.
When the jaundice arises from indurated swellings
or scirrhi of the viscera,, it. is absolutely incurable ; ne-
4-3 /
vertheless, as these cannot always be discovered, the Icterus,
physician ought to proceed in every case of jaundice as ^
if it arose from calculi. The indications here are, x. To
dissolve the concretions } and, 2. To prevent their for¬
mation a second time. But unhappily the medical art
has not yet afforded a solvent for biliary concretions.
rI hey cannot even be dissolved when tried out of the
body either by acids or alkalies, or anything but a
mixture of oil of turpentine and spirit of wine j and
these, substances are by far too irritating to be given in
sufficient quantity to affect a concretion in the biliary
ducts. Boerhaave observes, that diseases of the liver
are much more difficult to cure than those in any other
part of the body", because of the difficulty there is in
getting at the part affected, and the tedious and round¬
about passage the blood lias to it. The juice of conir
mon grass has indeed been recommended as a specific-
in the jaundice, but on no good foundation. Glisson ?
observes, that black cattle are subject to biliary con¬
cretions when fed with hay or dried straw in winter,
but are cured by the succulent grass in the spring;
and Van Swieten tells a strange story of a man who
cured himself of the jaundice by living almost entire¬
ly on grass, of which he devoured such quantities,
that the farmers were wont to drive him out of their
fields ; hut other practitioners have by no means found
this in any degree effectual. The only method of cure
now" attempted in the jaundice is to expel the concre¬
tion into the intestines ", for which vomits and exer¬
cise are the principal medicines. The former are
justly reckoned the most efficacious medicines, as they
powerfully shake all the abdominal and thoracic viscera j
and thus tend to dislodge any obstructing matter that
may be contained in them. But if there be a ten¬
dency to inflammation, vomits must not be exhibit¬
ed till bleeding has been premised. We must also
proceed with caution if the pain be very sharp ; for
in all cases where the disease is attended with violent
pain, it will be necessary to allay it by opiates before
the exhibition of an emetic. I here is also danger,
that, by a continued use of vomits, a concretion which
is too large to pass, may be so impacted in the ducts
that it cannot even be returned into the ^ gall-blad¬
der, which would otherwise have happened. In all
cases, therefore, if no relief follows the exhibition of
the second or third emetic, it will he prudent to for¬
bear their farther use for some time.
Of all kinds of exercise, that of riding on horseback
is most to be depended upon in this disease. It ope¬
rates in the same manner with vomits, namely, by the
concussion it gives to the viscera; and therefore the
cautions necessary to he observed in the use of Aomit^
are also necessary to he observed in the use of riding.
Cathartics also may be of service, by cleansing the
primee via’, and soliciting a discharge of the bile into
the intestines; but they must not be of too drastic a
nature, else they may produce incurable obstructions,
by bringing forivard concretions that are too large to
pass. Anodynes and the warm bath are serviceable by
their relaxing quality j and there can be no doubt,
that, from acting as powerful antispasmodics, they ofteri
give an opportunity for the discharge of concretions
by very slight causes, when they would otherwise be
firmly retained Soap has been supposed to do service
J as-
MEDICINE.
43®
M E D I
JTyssestlie- as a solvent; but this is now found to be a mistake, and
it acts in no other way than as a relaxant or as a gentle
J purgative.
But when all means of relief fail, as in cases of scir-
rhus, we can then only attempt to palliate the symp¬
toms, and preserve the patient’s life as long as possible.
This is best accomplished by diuretics; for thus a great
quantity of bilious matter is evacuated, and the system
is freed from the bad consequences which ensue on its
Stagnation in the habit. But even this is by no means
equal to the common evacuation by stool; nor can all
the attempts to supply the want of bile in the intestines
by bitters and other stomachics restore the patient to
his wonted appetite and vigour. If the pain be very
violent, we must on all occasions have recourse to
opiates ; or if the blood has acquired a tendency to
dissolution, it must be counteracted by proper anti¬
septics.
If the disease goes off, its return must be prevented
by a course of tonic medicines, particularly the cin¬
chona and antiseptics ; but we can by no means be
certain that the jauniice will not return, and that at
any interval 5 for there may be a number of concre¬
tions in the gall-bladder, and though one has passed*
another may very quickly follow, and produce a new
fit of jaundice ; and thus some people have continued
to be affected with the distemper, at short intervals,
during life.
In the East Indies, mercury has been lately recom¬
mended as exceedingly efficacious in disorders of the
liver, especially those which follow intermitting and
remitting fevers. Dr Monro, in his Observations on
the means of preserving the health of soldiers, acquaints
us, that he has seen some icteric cases which, he thought,
received benefit from taking a few grains of the sub-
murias hydrargyri at night, and a purge next morning;
and this repeated twro or three times a-week.
Infants are subject to a temporary jaundice, com¬
monly called the gum, soon after birth ; the cause of
which is not well understood. It differs remarkably
from the common jaundice •, as, in the latter, the dis¬
ease is first discoverable in the white of the eyes ; but
though the skin of infants in the gum is all over yel¬
low, their eyes always remain clear. The disorder
goes off spontaneously, or by the use of a gentle pur¬
gative or two.
357
358
o5S>
Class IV. LOCALES.
Vitia, Sauv. Class I. Lin. Class XI. Voe:. Class X
oag. Class I.
Plagae, Sag. Class II.
Morbi organic! Auctorum.
Order I. DYSiESTHESLE.
Dyssesthesise, Sauv. Class Vi. Ord. I. Sao-. Class IX.
Ord. I.
Genus XCII. CALICO.
The Cataract.
CINE. ^ pract,
A cataract is an obstruction of the pupil, by the in- a man
terposition of some opaque substance which either di- <
minishes or totally extinguishes the sight, it is gc-
nerally an opacity in the crystalline humour. In a re¬
cent or beginning cataract, the same medicines are to
be used as in the gutta serena ; and they will sometimes
succeed. But when this does not happen, and the ca¬
taract becomes firm, it must be couched, or rather ex¬
tracted ; for which operation, see Surgery.;—Dr
Buchan says he has resolved a recent cataract bv giving
the patient some purges with calomel, keeping a poul¬
tice of fresh hemlock constantly upon the eye, and a
perpetual blister on the neck.
There is, however, but little reason to suppose that
these practices will frequently succeed. A resolution
can only be effected here by an absorption of the
opaque matter ; and where this is possible, there is per¬
haps a better chance of its being effected by the
agency of the electric fluid than hy any other means.
For this purpose electricity is chiefly applied under the
form of the electric aura, as it has been called j but
even this is very rarely successful.
Genus XCIII. AMAUROSIS.
The Gutta Serena.
Amaurosis, Sauv. gen. 155. Lin. 11c. Vog. 238.
Sag. 261.
Amblyopia, Lin. 108. Fog. 236.
A gutta serena is an abolition of the sight without
any apparent cause or fault in the eyes. In every case
it depends on an affection of some part of the optic
nerve. But the affections which may produce this
disease are of different kinds. When it is owing to a
decay or wasting of the optic nerve, it does not admit
ot a cure ; but when it proceeds from a compression
of the nerves by redundant humours, these may be in
some measure drained oft^ and the patient relieved,
lor this purpose, the body must be kept open with
the laxative mercurial pills. If the patient be young,
and of a sanguine habit, he may be bled. Cupping
with scarifications on the back part of the head will
likewise be of use. A running at the nose may be
promoted by volatile salts, stimulating powders, &c.
But the most likely means of relieving the patient,
are issues or blisters kept open for a long time on the
back part of the head, behind the ears, or on the
neck ; which have been known to restore sight even
af'.er it had been for a considerable time lost.—Should
these fail, recourse must be had to a mercurial saliva¬
tion; or, what will perhaps answer the purpose better,
12 grains of the corrosive sublimate ipercury may be
dissolved in an English pint and a half of brandy, and
a table spoonful of it taken twice a-day, drinking half
a pint of the decoction of sarsaparilla after it.—Of
late electricity has been much celebrated as efficacious,
when no other thing could do service ; and here it has
in some degree the same chance of success as in other
cases of insensibility, depending on an affection of the
nerves, in some of which it has certainly in particular
cases been of use.
In the amaurosis, Dr Porterfield observes, that it is
o the utmost consequence to know of how long stand¬
ing the disease has been j which is not always easily .■
done if one eye only be infected. This is a very essen-
I tial
p dice.
p sthe- tid point 5 because an amaurosis oi‘ long standing is al-
5. together incurable. Mr Boyle mentions the case of a
u '-~'man who had a cataract for several years without know¬
ing it himself, though others did. He discovered it
at last by happening to rub his sound eye, and was sur¬
prised to find himself in the dark. When a person,
therefore has a gutta serena only in one of the eyes, he
may think that the eye has but lately lost the power of
sight though this perhaps has been the case for several
years. On the other hand, he may imagine that a re¬
cent disease of this kind is really of long standing. But
by inquiring at what time he first became subject to
mistakes in all actions that require the distance to be
exactly distinguished, as in pouring liquor into a glass,
snuffing a candle, or threading a needle, we may disco¬
ver the age of the disease, and thence be assisted to form
a more just prognostic with respect to its cure. Hr
Porterfield gives an instance of his conjecturing in this
manner concerning the case of a young lady who had
discovered a loss of sight in one of her eyes only the
day before. The disease was thought to be of long
standing 5 but as the doctor found that she had only
been subject to mistakes of the kind above mentioned
for about a month, he drew a favourable prognostic, and
the disease was cured.
5i Genus XCIV. HYSOPIA.
Depraved Vision.
Amblyopia, gen. 154. Sag. 258.
There are several species referred to this genus by
Dr Cullen, viz.
1. Dysopia Tenebrarum ; 2. Dysopia Luminis.—■
The former of these is properly the nyctalopia, or night-
blindness, of ancient authors. But amongst both the
Greek and Latin writers, there is a direct opposition in
the use of this word nyctalopia ; some saying it signifies
“ those who cannot see by night,” and others express
by it “ those W'ho cannot see during the day, but during
the night.'1'1—The difference in the account of this dis¬
order, as to its appearing in the night or in the day, is
reconciled by considering it as of the intermitting kind:
the difference then will consist in the different times of
its approach j so it may be called periodical blindness.
Intermittents appearing in a variety of modes, and the
success of cinchona in some instances of this sort of
blindness, both favour the opinion of its being an inter¬
mittent disease of the eyes ; and this view has accord¬
ingly been taken of it by some late writers, particularly
in some papers in the London Medical Observations,
and Medical Transactions.
3. Dysopia Proximorum (^Presbytia,') or the defect
of those who see only at too great distance. 4. Dysopia
Dissitorum {Myopia), or the defect of those who are
shortsighted.—These are disorders which depend on the
original structure or figure of the eye, therefore admit
of no cure. The inconveniences arising from them
may, however, be in some measure remedied by the help
of proper glasses. The former requires the aid of a
convex, and the latter of a concave glass.
5. Dysopia Lateralis ; a defect by which objects
cannot be viewed distinctly but in an oblique position.
—Thus, in viewing an object placed on the left, they
turn their face and eyes to the right, and vice versa.—
439
Ibis disorder may proceed from various causes both Paracusis.
natural and accidental, some of which admit of no re- 1 v-~—■'
medy. If it be occasioned by a partial adhesion of the
eyelids, the hand of the surgeon is required: if by a
transverse position of the pupil, some mechanical con¬
trivance is necessary. If it be owing to an albugo co¬
vering part of the pupil, or to a film rendering a por¬
tion of the cornea opaque, the remedies for these affec¬
tions are to be here applied.
Genus XCV. FSEUDOBLEPSIS.
Imaginary Vision of Objects which do not exist.
Suffusio, Sauv. gen. 217. Sag. 3.29.
Phantasma, Lin. 73. Sag. 289.
This very often takes place when the body is dis¬
eased, and then the patient is said to be delirious.
Sometimes, however, in these cases, it does not amount
to delirium 5 but the person imagines he sees gnats @r
other insects flying before his eyes ; or sometimes, that
every thing he looks at has black spots in it, which
last is a vei’y dangerous sign. Sometimes also sparks
of fire appear before the eyes j which appearances are
not to be disregarded, as they frequently precede apo¬
plexy or epilepsy. Sometimes, however, people have
been affected in this manner during life without feeling
any other inconvenience. Such a disorder can rarely if
ever be cured.
Genus XCVI. HYSECOEA. ^
Deafness, or Difficulty of Hearing*
Genus XCVII. PARACUSIS. 354
Depravation of Hearing.
Paracusis, Sauv. gen. 159. tSdg-. 265.
Syrigmus, Sauv. gen. 219. Sag. 231.
The functions of the ear may be injured by wounds,
ulcers, or any thing that hurts its fabric. T he hear¬
ing may likewise be hurt by excessive noise 5 violent
colds in the head \ fevers ; hard wax, or other sub¬
stances sticking in the cavity of the ear 3 too great a
degree of moisture or dryness of the ear. Dealness is
very often the effect ol old age, and is incident to
most people in the decline ol life. Sometimes it is ow¬
ing to an original fault in the structure or formation of
the ear itself. When this is the case it admits of no
cure j and the unhappy person not only continues deaf,
but generally likewise dumb, for life.
When deafness is the effect ol wounds or ulcers of
the ears, or of old age, it is not easily removed. When
it proceeds from cold applied to the head, the patient
must be careful to keep his head warm, especially in
the night 3 he should likewise take some gentle purges,
and keep his feet warm, and bathe them frequently in
lukewarm water at bedtime. When deafness is the ef¬
fect of a fever, it generally goes off after the patient
recovers. If it proceed from dry wax sticking in the
ears, it may be softened by dropping oil into them 3
afterwards they must be syringed with warm milk and
water. . .
If deafness proceeds from dryness ot the ears, which
may
MEDICINE.
44°
Dysasstlie- may Lc known l>y looking into tkcm, half an ounce
sise. of the o]l of sweet almonds, and the same quantity of
 1 camphorated spiiit of wine, or tincture of asafoetida,
may he mixed together, and a few drops of it put into
the ear every night at bedtime, stopping them after¬
wards with a little wool or cotton. Some, instead of
oil, put a small slice of the fat of bacon into each ear,
which is skid to answer the purpose very well.—When
the cars abound with moisture, it may be drained off by
an issue or seton, which should be made as near the af¬
fected parts as possible.
Some, for the cure of deafness, recommend the gall
of an eel mixed with spirit of wine, to be dropped in¬
to the ear j others, equal parts of Hungary water and
spirit of lavender. Etmuller extols amber and musk ;
and Brookes says, he has often known hardness of hear¬
ing cured by putting a grain or two of musk into the
ear with cotton wool. Where, however, an applica¬
tion with considerable stimulant power is necessary,
camphorated oil, with the addition of a few drops of
volatile'alkaline spirit, may be considered as one of the
best. It is proper, however, to begin with a small quan¬
tity of the alkali, increasing it as the ear is found to
bear it. In some instances, where deafness depends on
a state of insensibility in the nerves, electricity, parti¬
cularly under the form either of sparks, or of the elec¬
tric aura, has been employed with great success. Great
benefit has also in some cases been derived from galva¬
nism. But these and other applications must be varied
according to the cause of the disorder.
Though such applications may sometimes be of ser¬
vice, yet they much oftener fail, and frequently they
do hurt. Neither the eyes nor ears ought to be tam¬
pered with; they are tender organs, and require a very
delicate touch. For this reason, what we would chief¬
ly recommend in deafness, is to keep the head warm.
From whatever cause this disorder proceeds, this is al-
ways proper j and more benefit has often been derived
from it alone, in the most obstinate cases of deafness,
than from any medicines whatever.
365 Genus NCYIII. ANOSMIA.
Defect of Smelling.
Anosmia, Sauv. gen. 156. Lin. iiq. Fog. 248.
Sag. 262.
Causes. Morbid affections in the sense of smelling,
ijiay be considered with respect to their causes, as aris¬
ing from one of two sources ; either from some orga¬
nic affection of the parts here principally concerned,
or from a mere atonic state of the parts without any
obvious affection. The sense of smelling may be di¬
minished or destroyed by various diseases of the parts j
as, the moisture, dryness, inflammation or suppuration
of that membrane which lines the inside of the nose,
commonly called the olfactory membrane ; the compres¬
sion of the nerves which supply this membrane, or some
fault in the brain itself at their origin. A defect, or
too great a degree of solidity, of the small spongy
bones of the upper jaw, the caverns of the forehead,
&c. may likewise impair the sense of smelling. It
may also he injured by a collection of fetid matter in
those caverns, which keeps constantly exhaling from
Praci'e,
them. Few things are more hurtful to the sense of
smelling than taking great quantities of snuff. S
Cure. When the nose abounds with moisture, after
gentle evacuations, such things as tend to take off ir¬
ritation and coagulate the thin sharp serum may be ap¬
plied j as the oil of anise mixed with fine flour, cam-
phire dissolved in oil of almonds, &c. The vapours of
amber, frankincense, gum-mastic, and benzoin, may
likewise be received into the nose and mouth. For
moistening the mucus when it is too dry, some recom¬
mend snuff made of the leaves of marjoram, mixed with
oil of amber, and aniseed ; or a sternutatory of calcined
sulphate of zinc, 12 gi*ains of which maybe mixed with
two ounces of marjoram-water and filtrated. The steam
or vapour of vinegar thrown upon hot iron received up
the nostrils is likewise of use for softening the mucus,
opening obstructions, &c.
If there be an ulcer in the nose, it ought to fee
dressed with some emollient ointment, to which, if the
pain be very great, a little laudanum may be added.
If it be a venereal ulcer, it is not to be cured without
mercury. In that case, the solution of the corrosive
sublimate in brandy may be taken, as directed in the
gutta serena. The ulcer ought likewise to be washed
with it $ and the fumes of cinnabar may be received
up the nostrils.
If there be reason to suspect that the nerves which
supply the organs of smelling are inert or want stimu¬
lating, volatile salts, strong snuffs, and other things
which occasion sneezing, may be applied to the nose.
The forehead may likewise be anointed with balsam
of Peru, to which may be added a little of the oil of
amber.
Genus XCIX. AGEUSTIA. : j
Defect of Tasting.
Ageustia, Sauv. gen. 157. Sag. 263.
Ageustia, Lm. 114.
Apogeusis, Vog. 449.
Cause. This disease also may arise either from an
organic affection, or an atonic state of the parts. The
taste may be diminished by crusts, filth, mucus, aphthse,
pellicles, warts, &c. covering the tongue ; it may be
depraved by a fault of the saliva, which, being dis¬
charged into the mouth, gives the same sensation as if
the food which the person takes had really a bad taste j
or it may be entirely destroyed by injuries done to the
nerves of the tongue and palate. Few things prove
more hurtful either to the sense of tasting or smelling
than obstinate colds, especially those which afl’cct the
head.
Cure, When the taste is diminished by filth, mu¬
cus, &c. the tongue ought to be scraped, and fre¬
quently washed with a mixture of water, vinegar, and
honey, or some other detergent. W hen the saliva is
vitiated, which seldom happens unless in fevers or
other diseases, the curing of the disorder is the cure ot
this symptom. To relieve it, however, in the mean
time, the following practices may be of use : if there
he a bitter taste, it may be taken away by vomits,
purges, and other things which evacuate bile: what
is called a nidorous taste, arising from putrid humours*
medicine
1 ,ctice. M E D I
) irexise. is cori’ected by tbe juice of citrons, oranges, and other
| i y—/ acids; a salt taste is cured by plentiful dilution with
watery liquors : an acid taste is destroyed by absorbents
and alkaline salts, as powder of oyster-shells, salt of
wormwood, &c.
When the sensibility of the nerves which supply the
organs of taste is diminished, the chewing of horse¬
radish, and of other stimulating substances, will help to
recover it.
,<57 Genus C. ANAESTHESIA.
Defect of the Sense of Feeling. '
Sauv. gen. 161. Lin. 218. Fog. 267.
Causes, &c. This sense may be hurt by any thing
that obstructs the nervous system, or prevents its being
regularly conveyed to the organs of touching, as pres¬
sure, extreme cold, &c. It may likewise be hurt by
too great a degree of sensibility, when the nerve is not
sufficiently covered by the cuticle or scarf-skin, or where
there is too great a tension of it, or it is too delicate.
Whatever disorders the functions of the brain and
nerves, hurts the sense of touching. Hence it appears
to proceed from the same general causes as palsy and
apoplexy, and requires nearly the same method of treat¬
ment.
In a stupor, or defect of touching, which arises
from an obstruction of the cutaneous nerves, the pa¬
tient must first be purged afterwards such medicines
as excite the action of the nerves, or stimulate the sy¬
stem, may be used. For this purpose, the spirit of
hartshorn, cither by itself or combined with essential
oils, horse-radish, &c. may be taken inwardly the
disordered parts, at the same time, may be frequently
rubbed with fresh nettles or spirit of sal ammoniac.
Blisters and sinapisms applied to the parts will likewise
be of use ; and also warm bathing, especially in the na¬
tural hot baths.
Order II. HYSOIIEXIAE.
Sect. I. APPFTITUS ERRONEI.
Morositates, Sauv. Class VIII. Order II. Sag.
Class. XIII. Order II.
Pathetiei, Lin. Class. V. Order II.
Hypersestheses, Fog. Class VII.
3^, Genus Cl. BULIMIA.
.
Insatiable Hunger, or Canine Appetite.
Bulimia, Sauv. gen. 223. Lin. 79. Sag. gen. 335.
Bulimus, Fog. 296.
Addephagia, Fog. 297.
Cynorexia, Fog. 298.
This disease is commonly owing to some fault in
the stomach, by which the aliments are thrown out
too soon j and unless the person he indulged in his
desire for eating, he frequently falls into fainting fits.
Sometimes it is attended with such a state of the sto-
toach, that the aliment is rejected by vomit almost im¬
mediately after being swallowed } after which the ap¬
petite for food returns as violent as ever. But there
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
CINE.
are many circumstances which seem to render it pro¬
bable that it more frequently arises from a morbid
condition of the secreted fluid poured into the sto¬
mach, by means of which the aliment is dissolved.
V* hen the activity of this fluid is morbidly increased,
it will both produce too sudden a solution of the solid
aliment, and likewise operate as a powerful and jiecu-
liar stimulus to the stomach, giving an uneasy sensa¬
tion, similar to that which takes place in natural hun¬
ger. Such things are proper for the cure as may en¬
able the stomach to perform its office : chalybeates and
other tonics will generally be proper. In some, brandy
drunk in a morning has been useful ; and frequent
smoking tobacco has relieved others. Oil, fat meat,
pork, opiates, and in short every thing which in a sound
person would be most apt to pall the appetite, may also
be used as temporary expedients, but cannot be ex*
pected to perform a cure. In some, the pylorus has
been found too large 5 in which case the disease must
have been incurable.
Genus CII. POLYDIPSIA. 37c
Excessive Thirst.
Polydipsia, Sauv. gen. 224. Lin. 80. Fog. 275.
Sag. 336.
This is almost always symptomatic 5 and occurs in
fever, dropsy, fluxes, &c. The cure is very generally
obtained only by the removal of the primary disease ;
and it is best palliated by the gradual introduction of
diluents : But when these are contraindicated, it may
often be successfully obviated by such articles taken
into the mouth as have effect in augmenting the flow
of saliva.
Genus CIII. PICA. 37I
Longing, or False Appetite.
Pica, Sauv. gen. 222. Sag. 334.
Citta, Lin. 78.
Allotriophagia, Fog. 299.
Malacia, Fog. 300.
The pica is also very generally symptomatic oi other
diseases, as of worms, chlorosis, pregnancy, &c ; and is
therefore chiefly to be combated by the removal of the
primary affection. It may, however, be observed, that
peculiar longings occurring in certain diseases, as for
example in fevers, often point out a natural cure, ffhe
indulgence of such appetites to a moderate degree is
seldom productive of any inconvenience, and often fol¬
lowed by the best consequences.—Hence there are some
practitioners who think that such craving should very
generally be indulged j particularly when the patient
can assign no reason whatever for such particular long¬
ings, but is merely prompted by an uncommon and in¬
explicable desire.
Genus CIV. SATYRIASIS. 373
Satyriasis, Sauv. gen. 228. Lin. 81. Sag. 34®‘
Satyriasis is a violent desire of venery in men, even
so that reason is depraved by it. The pulse is quick,
and the breathing short $ the patient is sleepless,' thirsty,
3 K and
442
Dysorexiae. and loathes his food j the urine is evacuated with dif-
a,—»ficulty, and a fever soon comes on. These symptoms,
however, are probably not so much the consequence of
satyriasis, as merely concomitant effects resulting from
the same cause. And indeed this affection is most
frequently the concomitant of a certain modification
of insanity. The nature and cause of this affection are
in most instances very little ascertained but as far as
we are acquainted with the treatment, it agrees very
much with the affection next to be mentioned, which,
of the two, is the most common occurrence.
Practt,
some than with others ; and it has particularly been Nosta],
remarked among Swiss soldiers in the service of foreign ^ ■' y- i
states.
Sect. II. APPETITUS DEFICIENTES.
Anepithymise, Sauv. Class VI. Ord. II. Sag. IX.
Ord II.
Privativi, Lin. Class VI. Order III.
Adynamise, Vog. Class VI.
Genus CVII. ANOREXIA. ?7. 1
MEDICINE.
Genus CV. NYMPHOMANIA.
Furor Uterinus.
Nymphomania, Sauv. 229. Sag. 341.
Satyriasis, Lin. 81.
The furor uterinus is in most instances either a
species of madness or a high degree of hysterics. Its
immediate cause is a preternatural irritability of the
uterus and pudenda of women (to whom the disorder is
proper), or an unusual acrimony of the fluids in these
parts.—Its presence is known by the wanton behaviour
of the patient; she speaks and acts with unrestrained
obscenity ; and as the disorder increases, she scolds,
cries, and laughs, by turns. While reason is retained,
she is silent, and seems melancholy, hut her eyes dis¬
cover an unusual wantonness. The symptoms are bet¬
ter and worse until the greatest degree of the disorder
approaches, and then by every word and action her
condition is too manifest.—In the beginning a cure may
be hoped for ; but if it continue, it degenerates into a
mania.—In order to the cure, blood-letting is common¬
ly recommended in proportion to the patient’s strength.
Camphor in doses of 15 or 20 grains, with nitre, and
small doses of the tincture of opium, should be repeated
at proper intervals. Some venture to give cerusa aceta-
ta in doses from three to five grains. Besides bleeding,
cooling purges should also be repeated in proportion to
the violence of symptoms, &c. WThat is useful in
maniacal and hypochondriac disorders, is also useful
here, regard being had to sanguine or phlegmatic ha¬
bits, &c. When the delirium is at the height, give
opiates to compose ; and use the same methods as in a
phrenitis or a mania. Injections of barley-water, with
a small quantity of hemlock-juice, according to Rive-
rius, may be frequently thrown up into the uterus ;
this is called specific ; but matrimony, if possible, should
be preferred. For although this cannot he represent¬
ed as a cure for the disease when in an advanced state,
yet there is reason to believe that it has not unfre-
quently prevented it where it would otherwise have
taken place.
Genus CVI. NOSTALGIA.
Vehement Desire of revisiting one's Country.
Nostalgia, Sauv. gen. 226. Lin. 83. Sag. 338.
This is to be reckoned a species of melancholy; and
unless it be indulged, it very commonly proves not
only incurable but even fatal. Although it cannot
he considered as altogether peculiar to any nation,
yet it is observed to be much more frequent with
JVant of Appetite.
Anorexia, Sauv. gen. 162. Lin. 116. Vog. 279,
Sag. 268.
The anorexia is symptomatic of many diseases, hut
seldom appears as a primary affection; and it is very
generally overcome only by the removal of the affection
on which it depends.
Genus CVIII. ADIPSIA. ^
Want of Thirst.
Adipsia, Sauv. gen. 162. Lin. 117. Vog. 281. Sag.
269.
This by Dr Cullen is reckoned to be always symp¬
tomatic of some distemper affecting the sensorium com¬
mune.
Genus CIX. ANAPHRODISIA.
Impotence to Venery.
Anaphrodisia, Sauv. gen. 164. Sag. 270.
Atecnia, Lin. 119.
Agenesia, Vog. 283.
For this, see the article Impotence in the alphabe¬
tical order.
Order III. DYSCINESIiE.
Genus. CX. APHONIA.
Loss of Voice.
Aphonia, Sauv. gen. 166. Lin. 115. Vog. 253.
Sag. 272.
The loss of voice may proceed from various causes.
If one of the recurrent nerves, which are formed by
the par vagum and the nervus accessorius, and reach
the larynx, be cut, the person is capable of only as it
were a half-pronunciation ; but if both be cut, the
speech and voice are both lost. The. loss of speech
happening in hysteric patients is also called aphonia ;
but more properly that loss of speech is thus named
which depends on some fault of the tongue.
Since the motion of any part is destroyed, or lessen¬
ed at least, by the interception of the nervous fluid
in its passage thither, and since the nerves destined for
the motion of the tongue arise principally from the
fifth pair, it appears that the seat of this disorder is in
the fifth pair of nerves, and that the immediate cause
notice. ^ M E D I
ijiesi®. is a diminution or total destruction of the nervous
[ y—' power in them. Hence a palsy of the tongue, which
is either antecedent or subsequent to hemiplectic or apo¬
plectic disorders, demand our utmost attention.
If an aphonia appears alone, it generally bespeaks
an approaching hemiplegia or apoplexy ; but if it suc¬
ceed these disorders, and is complicated with a wreak
memory and a sluggishness ol the mental powers, it
threatens their return. That aphony usually termi¬
nates the best which proceeds from a stagnation of
serous humours compressing the branches of the fifth
pair of nerves, which run to the tongue ; but it is no
less afflictive to the patient, and is very obstinate of cure.
Other causes of this disorder are, the striking in of
eruptions on the skin, a congestion of blood in the
fauces and tongue, obstructed periodical evacuations in
plethoric habits, spasmodic affections, worms, a crumb
of bread falling into the larynx, fear, too free an use
of spirituous liquors 5 also whatever destroys the liga¬
ments which go from the arytcenoid to the thyroid car¬
tilages, will destroy the voice.
The prognostics vary according to the cause. That
species which is owing immediately to spasms, soon gives
way on the removal of them. If a palsy of the tongue
be the cause, it is very apt to return, though relieved,
but often continues incurable.
In order to the cure, we must endeavour first to re¬
move whatever obstructs the influx of the nervous fluid
into the tongue, and secondly to strengthen the weak
parts. These general intentions, in all cases, being re¬
garded, the particular causes must be removed by re¬
medies accommodated to each.
If worms be the cause, antispasmodics may give pre¬
sent relief 5 but the cure depends on the destruction or
expulsion of the animals themselves. In case of a con¬
gestion of blood about the head, bleeding and nitrous
medicines are to be used.—That sjiecies of aphony
which I'emains after the shock of an hemiplegia or apo¬
plexy, requires blisters to be applied to the nape of the
neck 5 if spasmodic constrictions about the fauces and
tongue he the cause, external paregorics are of the
greatest service, anodyne antispasmodics may be laid
under the tongue, and the feet bathed in warm water ;
carminative clysters also are useful.—-When a palsy of
the tongue produces this complaint, evacuations, ac¬
cording to the patient’s habit, must be made, and warm
nervous medicines must be externally applied, and in¬
ternally administered j blisters also should be placed be¬
tween the shoulders.—In case of repelled cuticular erup¬
tions, sudorifics should be given, and the patient’s drink
should be warm. The spiritus ammonia; succinatus, or
vinum antimonii, may be employed either in combina¬
tion with other articles, or by themselves, and given
at proper distances of time, in the patient’s drink,
or on a bit of sugar.—Sometimes the serum flows
so rapidly to the fauces and adjacent parts, in a
salivation; as to deprive the patient of all power
to speak} in this case diaphoretics and laxatives,
with a foi’bearance of all mercurials, are the speediest
remedies.
CINE.
Dumb people are generally born deaf; in which
case the distemper is incurable by medicine : though
even such people may be taught not only to read and
write, but also to speak and understand what others
say to them. I rom some observations on the method
in which this has been accomplished, we may refer the
reader to the article Dumbness, in the alphabetical
order. JBut in these cases, admitting of cure in the
manner above alluded to, the dumbness proceeds prin-
cipaliy, if not solely, from the deafness. For when it
proceeds from a defect of any of the organs necessary
for speech, the tongue for instance, it is always incura¬
ble ; but if it arise from a palsy, the medicines applica¬
ble in that case will sometimes restore the speech.
443
Mutitas.
Genus CXII. PARAPHONIA.
Change in the Sound of the Voice.
Paraphonia, Sauv. gen. 168.
Cacophonia, Sag. 274.
Raucedo, Lin. 146.
Raucitas, Vog. 252.
Asaphia, &c. Vog. 250, 251, 254, 255, 256.
The voice may be changed from various causes. In
males it becomes much more hard about the time of pu¬
berty ; but this can by no means be reckoned a disease.
In others it proceeds from a catarrh, or what we call
a cold ; it arises also from affections of the nose and pa¬
late, as polypi, ulcers, &c. in which case the cure be¬
longs properly to Surgery. In some it arises from a
laxity of tha velum pendulum palati and glottis, which
makes a kind of snoring noise during inspiration. The
cure of this last case is to be attempted by tonics and
such other medicines as are of service in diseases at¬
tended with laxity.
Genus CXIII. PSELLISMUS. 6^
Defect in Pronunciation.
Psellismus, Sauv. gen. 167. Lin. 139. Sag. 273*
Traulotis, &c. Vog. 258, 259, 260, 261.
Of this disease (if such it may be called), there ar«
many different kinds. Some cannot pronounce the let¬
ter S; other’s labour under the same difficulty with
R, L, M, K, &c.; while some who can with sufficient
ease pronounce all the letters, yet repeat their words,
or the first syllables of them, in such a strange manner,
that they can scarce be understood. Very frequently
these defects arise entirely from habit, and may then be
got the better of by those who have the resolution to at¬
tempt it; as we are told that Demosthenes the cele¬
brated orator got the better of a habit of stammering
by declaiming with pebbles in his mouth. Sometimes,
however, pronunciation may be impeded by a wrong
conformation of the tongue or organs of speech ; and
then it cannot by any pains whatever be totahy re¬
moved.
Genus CXIV. STRABISMUS. 3S3
Genus CXI. MUTITAS.
Dumbness.
Mutitas. Sauv. gen. 165. Vog. 257* ^aS' 27l0
Squinting.
Strabismus, Sauv. gen. 116.
Sag. 222.
3X2
Lin. 304. Vog. 514.
Description*
444
Dyscinesiae.
M E D I
Description. This disease shows itself by an uncom¬
mon contraction of the muscles of the eye ; whereby
the axis of the pupil is drawn towards the nose, temples,
forehead, or cheeks, so that the person cannot behold an
object directly.
Causes, Prognosis, &e. I. This disease may proceed
from custom and habit ; while in the eye itself, or in
its muscles, nothing is preternatural or defective.
Thus children by imitating those that squint, and
infants by having many agreeable objects presented to
them at once, which invite them to turn one eye to
one and the other eye to another, do frequently con¬
tract a habit of moving their eyes differently", which
afterwards they cannot so easily correct. Infants
likewise get a custom of squinting by being placed
obliquely towards a candle, window, or any other
agreeable object capable of attracting their sight: for
though, to see the object, they may at first turn both
eyes towards it; yet, because such an oblique situation
is painful and laborious, especially to the most distant
eyre, they soon relax one of the eyes, and content them¬
selves with examining it with the eye that is next it;
whence arises a diversity of situation and a habit of
moving the eyes differently.
In this case, which may admit of a cure if not too
much confirmed, it is evident, that objects will be seen
in the same place by both eyes, and therefore must
appear single as to other men ; but because, in the eye
that squints, the image of the object to which the
other eye is directed falls not on the most sensible and
delicate part of the retina, wdiich is naturally in the
axis of the eye, it is easy to see that it must be but
faintly perceived by this eye. Hence it is, that while
they are attentive in viewing any object, if the hand
be brought before the other eye, this object will be
but obscurely seen, till the eye change its situation
and have its axis directed to it 5 which change of situ¬
ation is indeed very easy for them, because it depends
on the muscles of the eyes, whose functions are entire 5
but, by reason of the habit they have contracted of
moving their eyes differently, the other eye is at the
same time frequently turned aside, so that only one at a
time is directed to this object.
II. The strabismus may proceed from a fault in the
first, conformation, by which the most delicate and
sensible part of the retina is removed from its natural
situation, which is directly opposite to the pupil, and is
placed a little to a side of the axis of the eye} which
obliges such people to tirni away the eye from the object
they would view, that its picture may fall on this most
sensible part of the organ.
When this is the case, the disease is altogether in¬
curable, and the phenomena that arise therefrom differ
in nothing from the phenomena of the former case,
excepting only that here, 1. The object to which the
eye is not directed will be best seen ; which is the re¬
verse of what happens when this disease arises barely
tiom habit and custom. 2. No object will appear
altogether clear and distinct: for all objects to which
the eye. is directed, by having their image painted in
the retina at the axis of the eye, where it is not very
sensible, will be but obscurely seen } and objects that
aie placed so far to a side of the optic axis as is ne¬
cessary for making their image fall on the most sensible
and (icucate part of the retina, must appear a little
CINE. Practi l
confused, because the several pencils of rays that come Strains L
therefrom fall too obliquely on the crystalline to be ! r -i
accurately collected in so many distinct points of the
retina ; though it must he acknowledged, that this
confusion will, for the most part, be so small as to es¬
cape unobserved.
III. This disease may proceed from an oblique po¬
sition of the crystalline, where the rays that come di¬
rectly to the eye from an object, and that ought to
converge to the point of the retina, which is in the
axis of the eye, are, by reason of the obliquity of the
crystalline, made to converge to another point on that
side of the visual axis where the crystalline is most
elevated ; and therefore the object is but obscurely
seen, because its image falls not on the retina at the
axis of the eye, where it is most sensible : But the
rays that fall obliquely on the eye, will after refrac¬
tion, converge to this most sensible part of the re¬
tina } and, by converging there, must impress the
mind with a clear idea of the object from whence
they c.vme. It is for this reason that the eye ne¬
ver moves uniformly with the other, but turns away
from the object it would view, being -attentive to
the object to which it is not directed. \\ hen this is
the case, it is in vain to expect any good from me¬
dicine.
The symptoms which naturally arise from it are,
1. The object to which the eye is directed will be
but faintly seen, because its image falls on the retina
where it is not very sensible. 2. The object to which
the eye is not directed, by having its image painted
on the retina at the axis of the eye, will be clearly
perceived. But, 3d. This same object must appear
somewhat indistinct, because the pencils of rays that
flow from it are not accurately collected in so many
distinct points in the retina, by reason of their oblique
incidence on the crystalline. 4. It must he seen, not
in its proper place, but thence translated to some
other place situated in the axis of vision. And, 5. Be¬
ing thus translated from its true place, where it is seen
by the other eye that does not squint, it must necessa¬
rily appear double 5 and the distance between the
places of its appearance will be still greater, if the
crystalline of the other eye incline to the contrary
side.
IA. This disease may arise from an oblique posi¬
tion of the cornea} which, in this case, is gene¬
rally more arched and prominent than what it is na¬
turally.
When the eye has this conformation, no object to
which it is directed can be clearly seen, because its
image falls not on the retina at the axis of the eye}
and therefore the eye turns aside from the object it
Would view, that its image may fall on the most sensible
part of the retina.
TV hen the strabismus proceeds from this cause, the
prognostic and the phenomena that attend it will be
much the same as in the case immediately preceding}
from which nevertheless it may be distinguished by
the obliquity of the cornea, which is manifest to the
senses, and il the cornea be also more arched and pro¬
minent than what it is naturally, which is commonly the
case, the eye will also be short-sighted.
T. fliis want of uniformity in the motions of our
eyes, may arise from a defect, or any great vveakness,
or
j ictice. M E D I
•Lncs;*. or imperfection, in the sight of both or either of the
1 y—mmJ eyes ; and this, according to Dr Porterfield, is the
most common cause ot this disease. The prognostic in
this case is the same with that of the disease from which
it proceeds.
YI. Another cause from which the strabismus may
proceed, lies in the muscles that move the eye. When
any of those muscles are too short or too long, too
tense or too lax, or are seized with a spasm or paralysis,
their equilibrium will be destroyed, and the eye will
be turned towards or from that side where the muscles
are faulty.
In this case, the disease frequently yields to medi¬
cine, and therefore admits of favourable prognostic ;
excepting only when, by a fault in the first confor¬
mation, any of the muscles are longer or shorter than
their antagonist 5 in which case, if ever it should hap¬
pen, no medicine can be of any use.
As to what concerns the optical phsenomena, they
are the same here as in case first : only when the dis¬
ease commences not till, by custom and habit, the
uniform motion of the eyes has been rendered ne¬
cessary, all objects do for some time appear double j
but in time they appear single.
Lastly, This want of uniformity in the motions of
our eyes may proceed from a preternatural adhesion or
attachment to the eyelids : of this we have an instance
in Langius. And that the same thing may also be oc¬
casioned by a tumour of any kind within the orbit,
pressing the eye aside, and restraining it from follow¬
ing the motions of the other, is so evident, that in¬
stances need not be brought to prove it. Here al¬
so the case may admit of a favourable prognostic j
and as for what concerns the optical phsenomena,
they must be the same as in the case immediately pre¬
ceding.
The cure, in confirmed cases, is to be effected
by mechanical contrivances, by which the person
may be obliged to look straight upon objects, or not
see them at all ; or at least that he may see with
uneasiness and confusedly when he squints. In the
68th volume of the Philosophical Transactions we have
an account of a confirmed case of squinting of a very
uncommon kind. The patient was a boy ot five years
old, and viewed every object which was presented to
him faith but one eye at a time. If the object was
presented on his right side, he viewed it with his left
eye ; and if it was presented on his left side, he viewed
it with his right eye. He turned the pupil of that
eye which was on the same side with the object in
such a direction that the image of the object might
fall on that part of the bottom of the eye W'here the
optic nerve enters it. YV hen an object u'as held di¬
rectly before him, he turned his bead a little to one
side, and observed it with but one eye, viz. that most
distant from the object, turning away the other in
the manner above described j and when he became
tired of observing it with that eye, lie turned his head
the contrary way, and observed it with the other eye
alone, with equal facility j but never turned the axis
of both eyes on it at the same time. He saw letters
which were written on bits of paper, so as to name
them with equal ease, and at equal distances, with one
eye as with the other. There was no perceptible dif¬
ference in the diameter of the irises, nor in the con-
G I N E. 445
tractility of them after having covered his eyes from Strabismus,
the light. Ihese observations were carefully made by -~v~—
writing single letters on shreds of paper, and laying
wagers with the child that he could not read them
when they were presented at certain distances and in
certain directions.
As from these circumstances it appeared that there
•was no defect in either eye, which is frequently the
case ivith persons who squint, and hence that the dis¬
ease was simply a depraved habit of moving his eyes,
the disease seemed capable of a cure. A paper gno¬
mon was made for this purpose, and fixed to a cap j
and when this artificial nose was placed over his real
nose, so as to project an inch between his eyes, the
child, rather than turn his head so far to look at oblique
objects, immediately began to view them with that eye
which was next to them. But having the misfortune
to lose his father soon after this method was begun to
be followed, the child was neglected for six years, du¬
ring which time the habit was confirmed in such a
manner as seemed to leave little room to hope for a
cure. The same physician, howrever, being again cal¬
led, attempted a second time to remove the deformity
by a similar contrivance. A gnomon of thin brass
was made to stand over his nose, with a half circle of
the same metal to go round his temples : these were
covered with black silk, and by means of a buckle
behind his head, and a cross piece over the crown of
his head, this gnomon wras worn without any incon¬
venience, and projected before his nose about two
inches and a half. By the use of this machine he
soon found it less inconvenient to view all oblique ob¬
jects with the eye next to them than the eye opposite
to them.
After this habit was Aveakened by a Aveek’s use of
the gnomon, tAvo bits of Avood, about the size of a
goose quill, Avere blackened all but a quarter of an inch
at their summits j these Avere frequently presented to
him to look at, one being held on one side the extre¬
mity of his black gnomon, and the other on the other
side of it. As he vieAved these, they Avere gradually
brought forAvards beyond the gnomon, and then one
Avas concealed behind the other : by these means, in an¬
other Aveek, he could bend both his eyes on the same
object for half a minute together ; and by continuing^
the use of the same machine, he Avas in a fair Avay ot
being cured Avhen the paper Avas Avritten.
Dr Darwin, who Avrites the history of the abo\re case,
adds, that all the other squinting people he had occa¬
sion to attend, had one eye much less perfect than
the other : these patients, says he, are certainly cure-
able by covering the best eye many hours in a day 5 as
by a more frequent use of the Aveak eye, it not only
acquires a habit of turning to the objects Avhich the
patient Avishes to see, but gains at the same time a
more distinct A'ision j and the better eye at the same
time seems to lose somewhat in both these respects,
Avbich also facilitates the cure.
Genus CXV. CONTRACTURA. 384
Contractions of the Limbs.
Contractura, Sauv. gen. 119. Lin. 299* 2^5*
Obstipitas, Sauv. gen. II.
Caput
44<S
Apoceno-
3S5
Caput obstipum, Fog.
.Digitium, Vog. 221.
The contraction of various muscles of the body is
generally the consequence of some other disease, as the
rheumatism, gout, scurvy, or palsy, especially that spe¬
cies of the latter which follows the colica Pictonum. It
is exceedingly difficult of cure ; though the warm me¬
dicinal waters are much recommended, and have some¬
times done great service. Of late electricity has been
found to perform surprising cures in this way.
MEDICINE. PraetL
commend purgatives, and blister's on the nape of the pt r
neck, in order to draw off the abundant humours j butj
'as the disease evidently proceeds from weakness, it
would rather seem proper to pursue a contrary method.
Sauvages recommends to the patients to abstain from
study, wine, and salted meats ; and also to avoid smoke
or wind, and at night to foment the eyes with an in¬
fusion of four cloves in two ounces of proof-spirit  
Hungary water, rose water with sulphate of zinc dis
solved in it, &c. have also been recommended.
Order IV. APOCENOSES,
Genus CXIX. PTYALISMUS.
Salivation.
3S
386
3S7
3SS
Apocenoses, Vog. Class II. Ord. II.
Fluxus, Sauv. Class IX. Sag. Class V.
Morbi evacuatorii, Lin. Class IX.
Genus CXVI. PROFUSIO.
Flux of Blood.
Profusio, Lin. 239.
Haemorrhagia, Vog. 81. Boerh. 218.
The disease commonly known by the name of bloody
-flux, is the putrid or contagious dysentery, a disease
which has already been treated of. But independent
of the discharge of blood which then takes place, hae-
morrhagy may take place from the alimentary canal
-as well as from other parts of the system. In such in¬
stances, however, if we except the place from which
the discharge occurs, the phenomena are very much
the same as in menorrhagia, haemoptysis, and other
haemorrhagies already treated of; while the disease is to
be combated on the same principles and by the same
remedies.
Genus CXVII. EPHIDROSIS,
Excessive Sweating.
Ephidrosis, Sauv. gen. 258. Sag. gen. 194.
Sudor, Lin. 208.
Hydropedesis, Vog. 121.
This is generally symptomatic; and occurs in al¬
most all fevers, but especially in the latter stages of
the hectic. Sometimes it is a primary disease arising
merely from weakness ; and then easily admits of a cure
by the use of the cinchona, the cold bath, and other
tomes.
- Genus CXVIII. EPIPHORA.
Flux of the Lachrymal Humour.
Epiphora, Sauv. gen. 259.
Sag. 195.
Lin. 172. Vog. 9
Tins by Sauvages is described as an involunta:
ettusion of tears without any remarkable itching, he£
or pam. It follows long-continued ophthalmias;
it may be occasioned by immoderate study, or ai
t nng that weakens the eyes : hence it comes on abo
me age of 50 years, when the eyesight naturally b
comes weak. It in general grows worse in the wi
.er-time, and is very hard to cure. Some authors r
3
Ptyalismus, Sauv. gen. 261. Lin. 176. Vog. 103,
Sag. 197.
A salivation is often symptomatic, but rarely a prima¬
ry disease. Hr Cullen is of opinion, that when the lat¬
ter happens to be the case, it arises from laxity ; and
'then is to be cured by astringents and tonics. In the
Medical Transactions we have the following account of
a salivation brought on by a foreign substance irritating
one of the parotid glands.
In the month of April a young lady about
the age of 16 years, of a delicate habit, but subject to
no particular complaints, perceived the beginning of a
disease which afterwards proved most obstinate and
loathsome, viz. an incessant spitting. The quantity of
this discharge was different at different times, varying
from one pint to two pints and a half in 24 hours.
As to its quality, it seemed to be no other than the or¬
dinary secretion of the salival glands. By so large and
constant an evacuation, her strength became extreme-
ly impaired, and the most efficacious medicines had
proved useless She had taken large quantities of cin-
chona, both alone and combined with preparations of
iion. and afterwards the fetid gums, opium, amber,
alum, and the Neville-Holt water, had in succession
been given her. In the mean time an exact regimen
had been prescribed : she had been ordered to ride con¬
stantly 5 and to confine herself to a mucilaginous diet,
such as veal, calves feet, &c. Likewise a gentle open¬
ing medicine had now and then been interposed. The
disease still continued unaltered, she had afterwards
tried the tinctura saturmna ; and had, at the same time,
been encouraged to chew cinchona, and to swallow the
saliva. But all these attempts had been vain $ and after
she had taken some or other of the medicines above
mentioned until the end of September 1753, namely,
above two years, it appeared to her physician, Sir
George Baker, unreasonable to expect relief in such a
case from any internal medicines whatever.
He now conceived a suspicion, that some extrane¬
ous body having accidentally found its way into the
meatus auchtorius, might possibly be the cause of this
extraordinary secretion, by keeping up a continued ir¬
ritation in the parotid glands. With this view he ex¬
amined her ears, and extracted from them a quantity of
fetid wool. How, or when, it came thither, no ac*-
count could be given.
To this substance he attributed the beginning of the
salivation, notwithstanding that the disease did not im¬
mediately abate on the removal of the wool j as it ap¬
pealed to be no improbable supposition that the dis-
„ charge
MEDICINE.
1 ictice.
, ;eiio- charge might be continued by the force of habit, though
es. the original cause no longer remained.
^ v”-*1 It seemed, therefore, expedient to introduce some
other habit, in the place of the increased secretion of
saliva ; which habit might afterwards be gradually left
off. With this intention, he prevailed on the patient
to chew perpetually a little dry bread, and to swallow
it with her spittle. In a few weeks, it became neces¬
sary for her to chew the bread only at certain hours in
the day j and thus, after two months, she became en¬
tirely free from a most disgustful and tedious disor¬
der.
It is worthy of observation, that, at first, the swallow¬
ing ef so much saliva frequently occasioned a nausea ;
and that then, for a few hours, she w’as obliged to spit
it out as usual; and that during the greatest part of
the time, when she chewed the bread,"she had a stool
or two every day more than common.
o Genus CXX. ENURESIS.
An involuntary Flux of Urine.
Enuresis, Sauv. gen. 264. Lin. 195. Eqg. 113,
Sag. 200.
This is a distemper which frequently affects chil¬
dren, otherwise healthy, when asleep ; and is extreme¬
ly disagreeable. Often it is merely the effect of lazi¬
ness, and may be driven off by proper correction 5 but
sometimes it proceeds from an atony or weakness of
the sphincter of the bladder. Many ridiculous cures
have been prescribed for it, and among the rest field-
mice dried and powdered. Tonics are frequently of
use ; but sometimes the distemper proves obstinate, in
spite of every thing we can use. In the London Me¬
dical Observations we find blisters much recommend¬
ed in this disease when applied to the region of the os
sacrum. A girl of 13 years of age had been subject
to an enuresis for four years. She could retain her
water but a very little while in the day-time, but it
flowed continually in the night. She had taken Peru¬
vian bark and elixir of vitriol in considerable quantities 5
also valerian and the volatile julep, without effect.
She was severely threatened, as the physician suspected
it might arise from a bad habit 5 but this producing no
effect, a blister was applied to the os sacrum, which in
24 hours totally removed the disease. A man aged 32*
having been seized with an incontinence of urine and
palsy of the lower extremities in consequence of tak¬
ing a quack medicine, was cured of the incontinence
of urine in 24 hours by one blister, and of the palsy it¬
self by another. A woman of 50 having been seized
With an enuresis and paralytic affection of the right
thigh and leg in consequence of a sprain, was cured of
both by a single blister. Several other cases are men¬
tioned, by which the power of blisters in removing this
distemper seems to exceed that of every other medi¬
cine whatever.
Genus CXXI. GONORRHOEA.
Gonorrhoea, Sauv. gen. 208. Lin. 2QO. Uog. 118.
Sag. 204.
The gonorrhoea is a flux of viscid matter of various
colours, from the urethra in men and the vagina in wTo-
men. It commonly proceeds from coition with a Gonor-
peison infected with the venereal disease, and is one of rhoea.
t ie most common forms under which that disease shows v”*“
itself.
Description. The first symptoms of the disease in
men are commonly a sensation at the end of the penis
not unlike a flea-bite, together with a fulness of the
lips, of the urethra, and some degree of tension in the
penis, the urinary -canal feeling as if tightened, and
the urine flowing in a small and unequal stream : a
little whitish mucus is to be seen about the orifice of
the urethra, and oozing from it when slightly pressed,
especially if the pressure be made on the spot where the
soreness is most felt. The discharge soon increases in
quantity, and varies in its colour according to the
degree of inflammation. The patient feels a sensation
of heat and pain in evacuating his urine, particularly
at certain sjiots of the urethra, and above all towards
its orifice j and the involuntary erections to which he
is subjected from the stimulus, particularly when warm
in bed, occasion a distortion or curvature of the penis,
attended with exquisite pain. When the inflammation
is violent, the glans appears tumid and transparent,
the tension extends through the whole of the penis,
the perimeum is affected with swelling and redness, and
even the loins, buttocks, and anus, sympathize and af¬
ford a very uneasy sensation. Sometimes the prepuce
inflames about the end of the penis, and cannot be
drawn back, occasioning what is called a phymosis; at
other times, as in the paraphymosis, it remains in an
inflamed state below the glans, so that it cannot be
drawn forwards ; and, if the stricture and inflammation
be violent, may terminate in gangrene. Now and
then, especially when there is a phymosis, wre may-
perceive a hard chord extending along the back of the
penis. This is an inflamed lymphatic, and may be
considered as a prelude to a bubo. When, however,
a bubo does appear, almost universally some ulceration
is previously to be discovered about the praeputium, .
or glans penis $ which gives ground to presume that
some other contagious matter besides that of gonor-
rhcea may have been applied to the urethra. For it is
certain that matter capable of communicating the con¬
tagion of gonorrhoea to a female, is often copiously
applied to the whole glans penis of a male for several
days together, without giving either ulceration or-
bubo.
In mild cases, the seat of the disease is in the urethra,
not far from its orifice ; but it frequently happens that
the virus insinuates itself much higher up, so as to
affect Cowper’s glands, the prostate, and parts very
near to the neck of the bladder.
In the generality of cases, the inflammation goes-
on increasing for several days, commonly for a week
or a fortnight ; after which the symptoms begin to
abate j and the running, when left to itself, gradually
lessens in quantity, and becomes whiter and thicker,
till at length it totally stops. The colour of the mucus,
however, is by no means a certain guide in these cases:
for in many patients it is of a- yellowish, and some¬
times of a greenish hue to the very last; but in gene¬
ral it becomes more consistent towards the close ol the
disease.
In women, the external parts of generation being
fewer and more simple, the disease is less complicated
than
M E D I
than in men. Sometimes the vagina only is affected ;
and when this happens, the symptoms are very trifling:
but in general it comes on with an itching and sensation
of heat as in the other sex ", and is attended Avitli in¬
flammation of the nymplue, inside of the labia, clitoris,
curunculce myrtiformes, the orifice and sometimes the
whole of the meatus urinarius. Very often the deep-
seated glands of the vagina are affected, and it is some¬
times difficult to distinguish the discharge of a go¬
norrhoea from that of the fluor albus.
Causes, &c. Many ingenious arguments have of
late been advanced to prove, that the gonorrhoea and
the lues venerea are different affections, originating
from two distinct species of virus •, and this contro¬
versy still, perhaps, remains to be decided by future
facts. Certain it is, that in 19 of 20 cases of gonor¬
rhoea, no symptom whatever of siphylis appears •, and
that the disease readily admits of cure without having
recourse to those remedies which are universally requi¬
site for combating the contagion of siphylis. It is by
no means wonderful, that in some cases both conta¬
gions, supposing them different, should be communi¬
cated at the same time. Nay, cases are by no means
rare, where the contagion of itch, though essentially
different from both, has been communicated with ei¬
ther. But as undeniable proof that the contagion in
both cases is precisely the same, it has been alleged by
some, that the matter of a chancre introduced into the
urethra will generate a gonorrhoea, and that the dis¬
charge from a gonorrhoea will produce chancre, bubo,
and every other symptom of siphylis. On the other
hand, however, it is contended, that when experiments
of this nature are conducted with the greatest accu-
racy, the matter of siphylis uniformly produces siphy¬
lis, and that of gonorrhoea, gonorrhoea only. With¬
out pretending to decide on which of these experi¬
ments the greatest dependence is to he put, we may
only observe, that while an almost inconceivably small
portion of siphylitic matter applied to the glans penis,
from connection with an infected female, infallibly
produces siphylis if it be not speedily removed, the
matter of gonorrhoea, in every instance of that disease,
is applied to the whole surface of the glans penis for
many days together without producing almost any had
effect whatever. From this, therefore, there is ground
ioi infen ing, either that it is not capable of being ab¬
sorbed, or that if absorbed it is innocent.
But while there have been disputes with regard to
the peculiar nature of the matter in gonorrhoea, there
have also been controversies with respect to the source
from whence it is derived. While some suppose it to
he principally purulent matter arising from ulcerations,
others assert that no such ulceration is ever produced in
toe uretin-a by gonorrhoea. They contend that the in-
ci eased secretion in these cases is exactly similar to
Avhat happens in the catarrh. But the comparison
will by no means hold good in every particular: in the
hitter the whole membrane of the nose is equally irri¬
tated •, whereas in the gonorrhoea, only particular parts
01 the urethra seem to he affected. The disease, in
t ie generality of cases, seldom extends more than an
mch and a half along that canal, and in many is con-
ined (at least in the beginning) to a small spot about
an inch from the extremity of the glans. The dis-
2
C I N E. ^ Pract
charge is produced from that part of the urethra where (;,,
the pain is felt 5 and the patient, when he voids his r!;o
urine, feels no smarting till it reaches the inflamed spot: u—\
but as the disorder increases, the inflammation affects
a greater number of points, just in the same manner as
chancres affect different parts of the glans. It might
be supposed that dissection would at once clear up this
matter, and put an end to the dispute ; but this is far
from being the case. Dr Simmons has seen several
urethras opened in persons who had a gonorrhoea at
the time of their death : in three of them the surface
of the urethra, as in the cases related by Morgagni,
appeared for some way down of a slight red colour,
and in all of them was covered with mucus ; but with¬
out any appearance of ulceration, except in two dissec¬
tions at Paiis, in which most of the gentlemen present
were convinced that they saw evident marks of it:
but Dr Simmons says that the appearances were to
him not sufficiently satisfactory to enable him to decide
with certainty on the subject. On the other hand,
when \ve consider that the discharge in a gonorrhoea is
sometimes tinged with blood, and that when this hap¬
pens a little blood vessel is no doubt ruptured, we
can have no reason to doubt that an ulceration may,
and sometimes does, happen in these cases ", especially
as we often observe an excoriation near the orifice of
the urethra. It is certain, that wherever there is con¬
siderable inflammation, there will he danger of ulcera¬
tion. Besides, from a neglected or badly treated go¬
norrhoea, we often see fistulas in perinea, and other ul¬
cers of the urethra, penetrating through its substance,
-and affording a passage to the urine. And there can
he no doubt that slight ulcerations of this canal often
occur, and are afterwards perfectly obliterated, in a
similar manner to what happens in the papillae of the
tongue, the tonsils, &c. Such an obliteration wilt
the more readily take place in a part like the urethra,
defended with mucus, and not exposed to the air,
which is known to have no little effect in hardening a
cicatrix.
But whether ulcers take place or not, whether the
virus of gonorrhoea be precisely of the same kind with
that which gives siphylis, or of a different kind, there
is reason from the phenomena of the disease to con¬
clude, that the matter first acts by mixing with the
mucus at the extremity of the urethra ", and that from
thence it is propagated upwards, particularly where the
excretories ot mucus are most numerous ", and that on
the parts to which it is applied, it operates as a peculiar
irritating cause. The consecjuenees of this irritation
will be inflammation and an increased secretion of
mucus ", and so far the complaint will be local. In
ninety-nine cases of an hundred, a local affection of this
kind constitutes the whole of the disease ", and of this
inflammation, ulcerations within the urethra, strictures,
anti other local affections, may be the consequence.
But whether a disease of the habit ever takes place,
unless when the contagion of siphylis is communicated
with that of gonorrhoea, still remains to he determined
by future observations and experiments.
Nothing can be more variable than the period at
which the disease makes its appearance after infection.
1 erhaps, at a medium, we may place it between the
4th and 14th day : but in some cases it happens within
24
medicine.
} ictice.
>cen0- 24 hours ; and in others, not before the end of five or
ies. even six weeks : neither of these extremes, however,
^ V—^ are common.
From what has been said of the manner in which
the contagious matter in gonorrhoea acts, and of the
influence it exerts on those parts with which it comes
in contact, it follows, that the prevention of vonor-
rhoea must depend on the removal of the contagious
matter, as soon as that can be done; and where this is
either altogether neglected or not properly accomplish¬
ed, that the cure must depend on counteracting the in¬
flammation which this contagious matter excites, and
the consequences which result from it.
The first of these intentions may be most certainly
and most easily accomplished by careful lotion of all
the parts to which the contagious matter has any
chance of being applied. These parts, at least on the
first application of the matter, are readily accessible :
for even in men there is Ho reason to belivo that it
at first penetrates to any extent in the urethra. This
washing of the parts should be performed as soon as
possible j because then the matter is both most ac¬
cessible and least involved with mucus: hut although
washing cannot be accomplished at an early period, it
should not be neglected afterwards ; for from the dis¬
ease uniformly commencing, even when it does not
appear till a considerable time after the application of
the contagious matter, with a peculiar sense of titilla-
tion at the external parts, particularly in men at the
extremity of the urethra, there is reason to believe that
the contagious matter attached to the mucus may re¬
main latent there for a very considerable time. For
the purpose of washing, with a view to the prevention
of this disease, recourse may be had to almost any wa¬
tery fluid, provided it he not so stimulant as to pro¬
duce had effects from injuring the parts. Pure water,
properly applied, is perhaps one of the best lotions ;
hut there can he no doubt that its power in removing
the contagious matter may be somewhat increased by
such additions as render it a more powerful solvent of
mucus. W ith this intention, one of the most power¬
ful additions is the vegetable alkali, either in its mild or
caustic state. In the latter state it is the most active,
but in the former it is most safe ; and the carbonaspot-
ass(B ol the Edinburgh pharmacopoeia, to the extent
ol half a dram, dissolved in six or eight ounces of
water, is one of the best lotions that can he employed.
The purpose of removing the contagion may often also
be eflectually answered from washing with water im¬
pregnated with soap } for there the alkali, though in
a caustic state, is prevented from exerting any disa¬
greeable effects, in consequence of its being combined
with oily matters.
^\ ith the view of preventing gonorrhoea, some have
advised, that the alkali either in its mild or caustic
state, properly diluted with water, should be injected
mto the urethra: and there can he no doubt, that by
this means the contagious matter, when it has entered
the urethra, may be removed. A removal may also
he effected by the injection of a weak solution of cor¬
rosive sublimate, which seems to act not by dissolving
the mucus hut by producing an augmented secretion.
Jfut at a very early period of the disease, injections are
probably unnecessary ; and if it has made any conside¬
rable progress, they are dancerous: for from the aug-
Vol. XIII. Part XL
mented sensibility of the part, even very gentle ones c;onor.
aie apt to excite a high degree of inflammation. rfcaa.
There are practitioners who, supposing that the body —r~-
possesses powers to expel the virus, and that the disease
has a certain period to run through its several stages of
progiess, acme, and decline, are for leaving the cure to
nature j or at least content themselves with assisting her
by an antiphlogistic regimen, gentle evacuations, and
the like.
lhat in many cases the disorder admits of a natural
cure, there can be no doubt ^ the increased secretion of
mucus carrying oft' thp virus faster than it is formed,
till at length the infection is wholly removed : But it
is equally certain, that in every ease, by the applica¬
tion of suitable remedies to the inflamed part, we may
shorten the duration of the complaint, and abridge the,
sufferings of the patient, with the same certainty and
safety as we are enabled to remove the effects of an
ophthalmia or any other local inflammation, by proper
topical applications. General remedies, such as occa¬
sional blood-letting, a cooling diet, the liberal use of
diluting liquors, and mild purges, are by all allowed
to be useful, and even necessary. Astruc was of opi¬
nion that in these cases blood-letting ought to be re¬
peated five or six times 5 and there are still many prac¬
titioners who depend much on repeated evacuations of
this sort for a removal of the inflammation. But there
is, perhaps, not one case in ten in which it is at all re¬
quisite ; and this small number of cases will consist only
of the strong and plethoric : in such, when the chordee
is frequent and painful, and the pulse hard and full,
the loss of from eight to twelve ounces of blood will he
beneficial, but it will he seldom necessary to repeat the
operation. The inflammation in these cases is kept up
by the local stimulus of the virus and the urine; and
all that we can expect from venesection is to moderate
the pain and the frequency of erection. Jn persons of a
delicate habit, and of an irritable fibre, the evacuation
will do no good ; but if repeated will certainly he liable
to do harm, by increasing irritability, and of course
rendering the patient more susceptible of stimulus.
The utility, and even the necessity, of a cooling re¬
gimen, are sufficiently obvious ; wine and spirituous
liquors, spiceries, a fish-diet, much animal-food, and
salted and high-seasoned dishes of every sort, will con¬
stantly add to the complaint. The patient should eat
meat only once a-day, and that sparingly. He should
abstain from hot suppers. Milk, mild vegetables, and
fruit, should constitute the principal part of his diet
while the inflammatory symptoms continue. Every
tiling that tends to excite the venereal imagination
should he studiously avoided ; for whatever promotes
erections of the penis will increase the inflammation,
and of course add fuel to the disease. lor the same
reasons much Walking or riding on horseback will he
hurtful, from the irritation kept up in the peri men in
by such means. Violent exercise of any kind, or any
thing that is liable to increase the heat and the momen¬
tum of the blood, will of course be improper.
The drinking freely of mild, cooling, mucilaginous
liquors, such as linseed tea, orgeat, whey, milk and
water, almond emulsion, and the like, will be extreme¬
ly useful, by diluting the urine, and preventing its salts
from stimulating the urethra. When the heat and pain
in making water are very considerable, mucilaginous
f 3 L substances
snlstanccs are found to Lave tlfc beat eiTcct, particularly
the gum tragacantb. It is a common practice to give
equal quantities of this gum or gum arabic and nitre,
and to dissolve nitre in tbe patient’s drink, with a view
to lessen the inflammation. But in these oases nitre is
always improper : it is known to he a powerful diure¬
tic, its chief action being upon the urinary passages ; so
that the stimulus it occasions will only serve to increase
the evil it is intended to alleviate. Supertartrite of
potass, on account of its diuretic quality, will be equal¬
ly improper. Our view here is not to promote a pre¬
ternatural flow of urine •, for the virus, being insoluble
in water, cannot easily be washed away by such means j
but our object ought to be, to render the mine that is
secreted as mild and as little stimulating as possible.
Mild purges, which constitute another material part
of the general remedies, are no doubt extremely useful
when exhibited with prudence $ hut it is well known
that the abuse of purgative medicines in this disease
has been productive of numerous evils. Formerly it
was a pretty general practice to give a large dose of
calomel at bed-time, three or four times a-week y and
to work it off the next morning with a strong dose
of the pilz/lce coceice, or some other drastic purge. This
method was persevered in for several weeks : in conse¬
quence of which the patient often found himself trou¬
bled with an obstinate gleet, and perhaps his constitu¬
tion materially injured ; the effect of such a method
being (especially in irritable habits) to weaken the
stomach and bowels, and lay the foundation of hypo¬
chondriacal complaints. \ iolent purging likewise often
occasions strangury, and other troublesome symptoms.
The cathartics employed in these cases should be
gentle; such as Rochelle salt, manna, tartarised alkali,
and the like. They should be given only in a dose suf¬
ficient to procure two or three stools, and he repeated
only every two or three days. The daily use of the
purgative electuaries that are still given by some prac¬
titioners, serves only to keep up a continual irritation
on the bladder, and of course to prolong the inflam¬
mation.
The topical remedies that are used consist chiefly of
different sorts of injections, the ingredients of which are
extremely various j but their modes of operation mav
in general be referred to their mucilaginous and seda¬
tive, or to their detergent, stimulating, and astringent
qualities. In the hands of skilful practitioners, great
advantages may doubtless be derived from the use of
these remedies j but, on the other hand, the improper
and unseasonable administration of them may prove a
source of irreparable mischief to the patient.
We know that mucilaginous and oily injections will
tend to allay the local inflammation ; and that a seda¬
tive injection, such as a solution of opium, will lessen
the irritability of the parts, and of course produce a
H.-vilar effect} the utility of such applications is there¬
fore sufficiently obvious.
A detergent injection, or one that will act upon the
mucus of the urethra, increase the discharge of it, wash
it away, and with it the venereal virus that is blended
with it, can only be used as a prophylactic before the
symptoms of infection have made -their appearance.
,t great circumspection is necessary in the use of
this kind of injection. If it be too weak, it can
be o., no efficacy j and if it be too strong, it may prove
dangerous to the patient. A suppression ef urine has
been brought on by the improper use of an injection of
this kind. When the symptoms of inflammation have
once made their appearance, the stimulus of such an in¬
jection must be extremely hazardous. Excoriation of
the urethra has hut too often been produced by remedies
of this sort in the hands of adventurous and unskilful
practitioners.
While the inflammation of the urethra continues,,
every thing that stimulates it must be hurtful. If the
injection excites a painful sensation in the urethra, as is
but too often the case, it will be liable to produce swell¬
ed testicles, difficulty in making water, excoriation, and
other effects of increased inflammation : if, by its astrin-
gency, the running be checked before the virus that
excited the discharge he properly subdued, the patient
will be exposed to fresh dangers 5 and perhaps to a va¬
riety of local complaints, such as obstructions in the
urethra, and abscesses inperintto, which are well known
to be sometimes owing to applications of this sort im¬
properly managed.
M hen the inflammation has subsided, gently stimu¬
lating and astringent injections may be used with safe¬
ty, and with considerable advantage : for as the in¬
flammation is at first excited by the stimulus of the ve¬
nereal virus, so when the former begins to lessen, we
may he assured that the activity of the latter has abated
in proportion •, and, in general, when the inflamma-
toiy symptoms are entirely removed, it will be found,
that the mucus is no longer of an infectious nature,
hut is merely the effect of an increased secretion and
of relaxation. Mild astringents will therefore serve to
brace and strengthen the vessels secreting mucus, and
in this way will lessen the discharge, and greatly pro¬
mote the cure. It is certain, that in the greater num¬
ber of cases, a gonorrhoea, which if treated by internal
remedies alone, would continue for five or six weeks,
or longer, may, when judiciously treated with injec¬
tions, be cured in a fortnight, and very often in less
time. The great aim, therefore, of the practitioner
ought to be at first to make use of such injections only
as will tend to lubricate the surface of the urethra, and
to counteract and destroy the stimulus of the virus : as
the inflammation abates, he may add some gently astrin¬
gent preparation to a mucilaginous and sedative injec¬
tion ; taking care that its astringency be suited to the
state of the disease, and to the irritability of the pa¬
tient. Amongst a great variety of substances, mer¬
cury in different forms is one of those that is the most
frequently employed in injections. All these mercurial
injections have more or less of astringency) and, ac¬
cording to Dr Simmons, it is solely to this property
that we are to ascribe their eftects j for the idea of
their correcting the venereal virus was originally in¬
troduced, and has, he thinks, been continued, upon mis¬
taken principles.
Calomel, mixed with the mucus discharged in a go¬
norrhoea, has no more power in destroying the infec¬
tious properties of that mucus than cerusse or any other
preparation would have. A diluted solution of subli¬
mate injected into the urethra, wall, like a solution of
verdigrise, or blue vitriol, or any other styptic, con-
stringe the mouths of the lacunse 5 but this is all that
it will do, for it wall never lessen the infectious nature
of the virus. This same thing may he observed of
crude
I ictice. M D ]
j ceno- crude mercury extinguished by means of mucilage, or
ses. of mercurial ointment, blended with the yolk of an egg,
1 and which, when thrown up into the urethra, will act
nearly in the same manner as balsam of copaiva, or any
other stimulating injection. The stimulus of mercury,
however, has often been found of considerable efficacy ;
and in women, when the vagina only was affected, af¬
ter washing the parts well, the cure has been accom¬
plished by rubbing them repeatedly with mercurial
ointment.
As the gonorrhoea is only a local affection, it may
be inferred, that the internal use of mercury is unne¬
cessary towards the cure. Very often indeed this com¬
plaint may be removed without having recourse to mer¬
curials. Sometimes patients have been met with whose
general health has been greatly impaired by a long con¬
tinued use of mercury in such cases, while the original
disease, the gonorrhoea, was rendered much worse by
it. In some it has degenerated into a gleet, that was
cured with extreme difficulty •, in others it has brought
on a vaidety of distressing symptoms. In cases of gonor¬
rhoeas, therefore, whenever mercury is administered, it
ought to be, not with a view to expedite the cure, but
merely to obviate the dangers of siphylis. When the
infection is apparently slight, and the inflammation and
the symptoms trifling, we may proceed without the as¬
sistance of mercury, especially if the patient be of a
weak, relaxed, and irritable habit, likely to be injured
by mercurial medicines. On the other hand, when the
discharge is violent, the inflammation considerable, or
the seat of the disease high up in the urethra, it is per¬
haps the most prudent plan to give mercurials in small
■doses, and in such forms as seem the best adapted to the
constitution of the patient.
The pilulce hijdrargyri, as prepared according to the
receipts inserted in the last edition either of the Lon¬
don or Edinburgh Pharmacopoeias, in both of which
the mercury is rendered active merely by triture, may
perhaps be considered as one of the mildest and most
efficacious forms under which mercury can be exhibited
by the mouth. Its efficacy will depend on its not ir¬
ritating the bowels, and thus passing off by stool ; care
must likewise be taken to prevent its affecting the
mouth. Of the chemical preparations of mercury, the
mildest and least irritating is calomel. It may be given
irom gr. ifL to gr. iii. at bed-time, occasionally inter¬
posing a mild purgative to prevent it from salivating j
but in general the mercurial pill just mentioned is to be
preferred.
When there is no chancre or bubo, no appearance
an short of siphylitic infection, it would he improper
to administer corrosive sublimate, the mercurius calci-
natus, or any other of the more acrid preparations of
mercury.
After a gonorrhoea proceeding from venereal causes
has been removed, another kind of running without
fain, called the gonorrhoea mucosa, or gleet, sometimes
remains. Sometimes it arises from a constriction and
excoriation of the urethra, and frequently it is the ef¬
fect of an enlargement and diseased state of the pro¬
state. In each of these cases, as the gleet is the effect
<d irritation, the cure will depend on the removal of
the local disease that occasions it. But there is ano¬
ther species of gleet that seems to depend chiefly on
Relaxation. It is in general free from infection, and
CINE.
is most common in those who have had long and fre-
quent gonorrhoeas. It is likewise often the effect of a
debilitated habit, from severe purging, or a long con¬
tinued use of mercurials. A discharge of this kind is
more frequent in women than in men ; or, at least, the
fluoi albus, after a gonorrhoea, will often he mistaken
for a gleet.
W hen there is no reason to suspect remaining con¬
tagion, astringent injections will be of the greatest ser¬
vice. It will be necessary, at the same time, to attend
^ to tue health of the patient, by employing cinchona,
chalybeate waters, cold bathing, and such other reme¬
dies as will tend to strengthen the system: and indeed
by the use of these, particularly by the cinchona, such
runnings are often successfully combated in those who
from apprehension of dangerous consequences cannot be
prevailed upon to employ injections. When there is
no tendency to inflammation, the balsam of copaiva may
be prescribed with advantage in large doses. Dr Sim¬
mons says he once saw a complaint of this sort removed
by applying a blister to the perinaeum, after it bad re¬
sisted a variety of other remedies. In the Medical Oh-
.servations also we have an account of a gleet and in¬
continence of urine removed at once by a blister to the
os sacrum. In general, however, the other methods
above mentioned will be sufficient to remove it, though
sometimes it will continue for a long time in spite of all
our endeavours to check it.—Other kinds of gonorrhoea,
in which the semen itself is ejected, especially during
sleep, may be cured by tonics and a mild cooling regi¬
men.
Order V. EPISCHESES.
Genus CXXII. OBSTIPATIO.
Costiveness.
Obstipatio, Lin. 166. Vog. 128. Sag. 221.
Costiveness is sometimes occasioned by debility in
dyspeptic persons, sometimes it is the effect of rigi¬
dity, and sometimes it is symptomatic of the colic.
It may proceed from an affection of the liver j drink¬
ing rough red wines, or other astringent liquors; too
much exercise, especially on horseback : it may like¬
wise proceed from a long use of cold insipid food, which
does not sufficiently stimulate the intestines. Somet imes
it is owing to the bile not descending to the intestines,
as. in the jaundice : and at other times it proceeds from
diseases of the intestines themselves, as a palsy, spasms,
tumors, &c.
Excessive costiveness is apt to occasion pains of the
head, vomiting, colics, and other complaints of the
bowels. It is peculiarly hurtful to hypochondriac and
hysteric persons, as it generates wind and other distres¬
sing symptoms.
Persons who are generally costive should live upon
a moistening and laxative diet, as roasted or -boiled
apples, pears, stewed prunes, raisins, gruels, with cur¬
rants, butter, honey, sugar, and such like. Broths
with spinage, leeks, and other soft pot-herbs, are like¬
wise proper. Rye-bread, or that which is made ol a
mixture of wheat and rye together, ought to be eaten.
No person troubled with costiveness should eat white
bread alone, especially that which is made of fine
3 L 3 floujv
s
452 M E D I
3R[)ist\ic5,cs. floar. The best bread for keeping the belly soluble is
what in some parts of England they call meslin. It is
made of a mixture of wheat and rye, and is very agree¬
able to those who are accustomed to it.
Costiveness is increased by keeping the body too
warm, and by every thing that promotes the perspira¬
tion; as wearing flannel, lying too long in bed, &c.
Intense thought, and a sedentary life, are likewise hurt-
iu!. All the secretions and excretions are promoted by
moderate exercise without doors, and by a gay, cheer¬
ful, sprightly temper of mind.
The drink should he of an opening quality. All ar¬
dent spirits, austere and astringent wines, as port, cla¬
ret, &c. ought to be avoided. Malt liquor that is line
and of a moderate strength is very proper. Butter-milk,
whey, and other watery liquors, arc likewise proper,
and may be drank in turns, as the patient’s inclination
directs.
Those who are troubled with costiveness ought, if
possible, to remedy it by diet, as the constant use of me¬
dicines for that purpose is attended with many incon¬
veniences, and often with bad consequences. In time
the custom becomes necessary, and generally ends in a
total relaxation of the bowels, indigestion, loss of appe¬
tite, wasting of the strength, and death.
The learned Dr Arbuthnot advises those who are
troubled with costiveness to use animal oils, as fresh-
butter, cream, marrow, fat broths, &c. He likewise
recommends the expressed oils of mild vegetables, as
olives, almonds, pistaches, and the fruits themselves;
ail oily and mild fruits, as figs ; decoctions of mealy ve¬
getables ; these lubricate the intestines ; some saponace¬
ous substances which stimulate gently, as honey, hydro-
inel, or boiled honey and water, unrefined sugar, &c.
are useful.
The doctor observes, that such lenitive substances
are proper for persons of dry atrabiliarian constitutions,
who are subject to astriction of the belly and the piles,
snd will operate when stronger medicinal substances are
-ometimes ineffectual ; hut that such lenitive diet hurts
chose whose bowels are weak and lax. He likewise ob¬
serves, that all watery substances are lenitive ; and that
oven common water, whey, sour-milk, and butter-milk,
iave that effect: I hat new milk, especially asses milk,
stimulates still more when it sours on the stomach ; and
that whey, turned sour, will purge strongly That
mcM part of fruits are likewise laxative ; and that some
of them, as grapes, will throw such as take them im¬
moderately, into a cholera morbus* or incurable diar¬
rhoea.
When the body cannot be kept open without medi-
mne, gentle doses of rhubarb may he taken twice or
thrice a-week. Hus is not near so injurious to the sto¬
mata as aloes, jalap, or the other drastic purgatives so
wmen in use. Infusions of senna and manna may like¬
wise be taken, or half an ounce of tartarised alkali dis¬
solved in water gruel. About the siae of a nutmeg of
lenitive electuary taken twice or thrice a-day, frenerally
answers the purpose very well,
■ m Genus CXXIII. ISCHURIA.
-Suppression of Urine.
Ischuria, Sauv gen. 293. Liu. 167. Vow. 120.
US% 212. Horned Clinical Experiments, sect. xv.
C I N E.
Practii,
This disease is distinguished into various species, j{c]Wri
according as the seat of it is in the kidneys, the
ureters, the bladder, or the urethra; and hence these
species are named renalisr ureterica, vcsicalis, and u?'e-
thralis.
1. Ischuria renalis, or a suppression of urine from an 39:
affection of the kidneys, happens but rarely ; however,
Dr Home in his Clinical Experiments describes such
a case. In the end of December 1774, a man of a
full habit, aged 35, was seized with shivering, cold¬
ness, and severe cough. Three days after, his urine
appeared high-coloured, was passed with pain, and
in small quantity. About the 8th of January 1775,
he was attacked with violent pains in the small of his
back, over the whole abdomen, and in the ankles,
with pain in the region of the liver when pressed. A
general swelling wTas afterwards observed all over the
body, but chiefly in the ankles and abdomen, which
last was tense and hard. These were attended with
vomiting, bad appetite, and considerable thirst. When
he entered the clinical ward (January 21st), the cough,
sickness, and vomiting, had gone off, hut the suppres¬
sion of urine remained. The little which he made was
passed with his stools, so that Dr Home saw it but
once ; and then it was pale, and had a white powder
at bottom. The pains and swellings which retained
the impression of the finger, continued; he had a
headach, and a very slow pulse, beating only 48 strokes
in a minute. He had taken a great many diuretic
medicines before his admission. The day after his re¬
ception, he was seized with a spontaneous diarrhoea,
which continued during the remainder of his life.
Crystals of tartar were exhibited in doses of half an
ounce each morning; at bed-time he took 20 drops
of tincture of opium with a scruple of nitre, and con¬
tinued this course for eight days without any increase
of urine. The stronger and heating diuretics were
then tried, as an infusion of juniper berries and pills
of garlic ; but they were attended with no manifest
advantage. W henever the pulse became so strong that
he could bear bleeding, eight ounces of blood were
taken away, which was sizy. This was thrice repeat¬
ed ; he appeared easier after eacli bleeding, his pulse
bore it well, and the swellings and other symptoms,
abated. The heating diuretics, in this state, were
given up, and a mixture of vinegar and nitre was
substituted in their place, in each dose of which, taken
every two hours, there was a scruple of nitre. Fo¬
mentations were applied to the region of the kidneys,
and camphorated oil was afterwards rubbed on the
part. He was ordered the semicupium, which, from-
a deficiency of water in the hospital at that time, he
got only once 3 and which then seemed to have a good
effect, as he passed a gill of urine when he was in it.
Notwithstanding this, however, the disease continually
gained ground; he became comatose, delirious, and
died ten days after his admission. On dissection, the
kidneys were found of an irregular form ; some watery
vesicles appeared on their surface, containing black
gritty particles like fine sand ; and the lower part of
the right kidney was considerably inflamed. The
pylorus, part of the duodenum, and a considerable
part of the small intestines, were much inflamed. In
the abdomen were found about five pounds of fluid,
and in the cavities, of the thorax about half a pound.
•ties. M E D I
pses The lungs were a little inflamed, and full of small
—' tubercles on their surface and in their substance : the
heart was large, and a polypus in each ventricle. About
six ounces of fluid were found in the pericardium : in
the brain nothing preternatural appeared, except about
an ounce of water in each ventricle.
])r Home seems to have been at a loss for the re¬
mote cause of this suppression of urine, which mani¬
festly had its immediate origin from the kidneyshaving
lost the power of performing their functions. He
thinks the inflammation which appeared in the right
kidney was scarce sufficient to have occasioned the
distemper, as the other would have supplied its place :
lor which reason also he thinks that the ischuria was
owing to a general aftection of the system} and that
it was of an arthritic nature, the patient having been
troubled with complaints of that kind for a long time
before.
9<) 2. The ischuria ureterica is also a rare disease, unless
the obstruction proceeds from a stone or clot of blood
stopping up the passage. Gravel or stones, indeed, are
very frequently formed in the kidneys : and, by falling
into the ureters, occasion an ischuria, with violent pain,
and symptoms more or less urgent in proportion to
the size and shape of the stones. Sometimes it is
attended with coldness of the extremities, nausea,
vomiting, and spastic constriction of the pruecordia,
a difficulty of making water, constipation ot the belly,
difficulty of breathing, stupor of the thigh, retraction
oftlre testicle, inquietude, loss of strength, syncope, and
convulsion fits. When the violent pain has continued for
several days and nights without intermission, and has
brought the patient exceeding low, and the suppression
of urine is complete, with coldness of the extremities
and convulsions of the tendons, death is at hand. Nor
is it a good sign when the stone continues long in the
ureter ; for then the appetite decays, a nausea and
retching to vomit supervene, and the patient is con¬
sumed with a hectic heat. Sometimes the pain is at¬
tended with an inflammation of the stomach and in¬
testines } and sometimes the disease ends in a dropsy
Mf the breast, or lethargy, which soon carry oil the
patient.
The indications of cure are, to exclude the stone as
easily as possible, and prevent the breeding of others.
If the patient be of a sanguineous temperament, Sy¬
denham recommends to take away ten ounces of blood
from the affected side; and then to give the patient a
gallon of posset-drink in which two ounces of marsh¬
mallow roots have been boiled, injecting at the same
time an emollient glyster. Alter the posset drink has
been vomited up, and the clyster returned, give a
pretty large dose of an opiate. But if the patient be
old or weak, or subject to nervous affections, bleeding
may be omitted, especially ii bis urine at the begin¬
ning of the fit be coftee-coloured, and mixed with
gravel 5 hut as to the other things, the cure is the
same. Huxham highly recommends an emollient bath
prepared of a decoction of marshmallow root, lintseed,
fenugreek seed, and flowers of chamomile, to which
may be added a few white poppy seeds. By the use of
this bath he says he has seen the most cruel fit of the
gravel suddenly ended, when neither copious bleeding
nor opiates had the least effect. Mild diuretics are al¬
so of service. Hoffman recommends dulcified spirit of
4
CINE.
nitre as proper to relax the spastic stricture. It is to be
taken with suitable distilled waters and syrup of pop¬
pies 5 or in broth, with a few spoonfuls of oil of sweet
almonds. Turpentine glysters are also accounted very
serviceable ; and may be prepared with ten ounces of a
decoction ol chamomile, with half an ounce of turpen¬
tine dissolved in the yolk of an egg, and about as much
honey. The sal diureticus, or acetis potass#, is much
esteemed by some, when taken along with an opiate.
But when the stone is too big to pass, Arbuthnot re¬
commends a cool and diluent diet to hinder the further
growth of it. Whey, infusion of lintseed, decoction of
marshmallows, and gently resolving diuretics, are also
proper. To put a stop to the vomiting, the compound
tincture of benzoin, formerly named halsamvm trauma-
ticum, has sometimes been used with success, when al¬
most every other means have failed.
3. The ischuria vesicalis may arise from a stone in
the bladder; and this indeed is the most common
cause of it: but there are certain cases, in which,
though the usual quantity of urine, or perhaps more,
be passed, the patient dies from the retention of a still
greater quantity in the bladder. Of this 13r Hume
gives the following instances. A man of 58 years of
age, of a strong spare habit, and never subject to the
gravel, had, during the winter of I777> a cough
with expectoration, which went oft in the beginning
of 1778. About the 17th of February 1778 he felt
some difficulty in passing his urine, and much pain
about the region of the bladder. He continued in
this way for ten days, after which he became easier on
application of some medicines. The abdomen then
swelled, and he had pains in his loins and thighs.
On the 3d of March he was admitted into the clinical
ward ; his abdomen was then swelled and tense 5 and
an evident fluctuation was felt, which some that touched
him thought was sonorous and produced by wind. A
tumor was discovered between the navel and spine
of the os ilium on the left side, which gave him much,
pain, especially when pressed. \ his tumor became
more easily felt after the swelling of the abdomen de¬
creased, seemed round, and very near as large as the
head of a child. It appeared very much on the left
side, even when the patient lay on the right, and it then
became dependent. He passed urine frequently, and
rather more than in health, as it was computed at lour
pints a-day. It was always clear, and of a light co¬
lour. His body had a strong disagreeable smeU j h13
skin was dry, belly bound, and his appetite entirely
gone, so that he had hardly taken any food for 1 2 days.
His legs swelled slightly for some days in the evening.
His pulse was generally regular, sometimes slower than
natural, and sometimes a little quicker ; being once felt
at 64, and another time at 92. He was often seized^,
especially after eating or drinking, with hiccough ^
which increased and lasted till his death. On the 2jth
day of his disease, after some doses of squills, the gene¬
ral swelling of his abdomen fell, became much softer,
and more distinctly discovered the swelling of the left
side. The next day a vomiting came on ; he became
delirious, and died the day following. The body be¬
ing opened, it appeared that the tumor which was so
distinctly felt on the left side of the abdomen, was
owing to a distention of the bladder with urine. Its
fundus reached to about the division of the aorta into
39
-54 M E JJ I
Epischcscs. die iliacs ; it entirely filled the pelvis, and contained
v—between five and six pounds of urine of a pale colour.
On examining the external surface, its neck, and the
beginning of the urethra, were found to be surrounded
with a scirrhosity, which impeded the evacuation of
the urine. The bladder itself was much thickened,
but not more in one part than another. The ureters
entered naturally; but were much thickened in their
upper half near the kidney. The kidneys were some¬
what enlarged j particularly the left, which had several
watery vesicles on its external surface. These organs
were not in their usual situation ; but lay close on
each side of the sjnne, and very near the aorta : so
that the renal vessels were very short. What was very
singular, the lower end of each arose over the spine,
and they were united together by their membranes,
the aorta passing beneath the union. The bladder had
pressed considerably on this part 5 and the peritoneum
covering them was considerably thicker than natural.
The lungs adhered every where to the pleura, and in
some places very firmly: they were of a loose texture
and black colour 5 and the veins of the lower extremi¬
ties were turgid with blood. It does not appear that
this patient got any medicines farther than a few dried
squills, which diminished the swellings and brought off
much wind. He also got a mixture of musk, and af¬
terwards of opium, for his hiccough ; but without suc¬
cess. His disease was mistaken for an ascites ; and the
catheter was not tried : but in another case the use of
this instrument was apparently of more service than any
internal medicines. This last patient was about 90
years of age, and laboured under symptoms very simi¬
lar to those already mentioned. When admitted into
the clinical ward, he had the hypogastric region swel¬
led, and difficulty of passing his water ; hut without
pain, vomiting, or hiccough. He had lost all appe¬
tite; was thirsty, and costive. His pulse was no, and
weak. In the evening about three English pints of
pale clear urine were draivn off by means of the cathe¬
ter : the next day all the symptoms were gone off or
abated. After this he continued to pass some urine,
sometimes voluntarily, sometimes involuntarily and in¬
sensibly : but so much always remained behind, that his
bladder was constantly full, unless when the urine wras
drawn oil, which was done twice every day. The urine
w»as sometimes pale, sometimes of a deep red colour ;
and once there wras some blood mixed with it, which
perhaps might have been occasioned by the catheter.
About the sixth day the urine was very putrid, with
much purulent like matter at the bottom, and was pas¬
sed with more pain. About the nth, the putrid
smell went oft. The next day all the urine passed in¬
sensibly except what was drawn off; and an hiccough
.though not very severe, had come on. In this vvay
l e continued without fever, though frequently troubled
w-Hb the hiccough, especially during those nights in
which the urine had not been drawn off. A month
after admission, the bladder, with the assistance of
the catheter, was almost entirely, though insensibly
evacuated, and the hiccough had left him; he had no
other complaint but that of voiding his urine insen¬
sibly, the natural effect of a scirrhous bladder, and
-which was probably incurable. With this patient
Aie hot bath and mercurials were tried, in order
I
C I N E.
Practi
to soften the scirrhosity of the bladder, but without
effect.
4. The ischuria urethralis arises from some tumor
obstructing the passage of the urethra, and thus hin¬
dering the flow of the urine. It is no uncommon dis¬
temper, and often follows a gonorrhoea. Hr Home
gives us an example of this also.—The patient was a
■man of 60 years of age, who had laboured under a
gonorrhoea six months before, and which was stopped
by some medicines in two or three days. He felt,
soon aftenvaids, a difficulty in passing his urine, which
gradually increased. About 10 days before his ad¬
mission into the clinical ward, it was attended with
pains in the glans, and ardor urince; he had passed
only about eight ounces the day before his admission,
and that with very great difficulty ; and the hypoga¬
stric region was swelled and pained. On introducing
the catheter, three pounds of urine were drawn off, by
"which the pain and swelling were removed. The in¬
strument required force to make it pass the neck of the
bladder, and blood followed the operation : and the
finger, introduced into the anus, felt a hard tumor a'-
bout its neck. Pie was treated with mercurial pills and
ointment, by which the swelling about the neck of the
bladder soon began to decrease ; but at the same time a
swelling of the right testicle appeared. He was vemit-
ed with four grains of turbith-mineral, the subsulphas
hydt'argyrt Jlavus of the present pharmacopoeia, which
operated gently, and here Dr Home observes, that
though these vomits are little used, from a mistaken no¬
tion of their severity, he never sawr them operate with
more violence than other vomits, or than he could have
wished. The swelling diminished in consequence of the
emetic and some external applications ; and the cure
was completed by bleeding and a decoction of mezereon
root.
Isehu
Genus C'XXIV. DYSURIA. 359
Difficulty of discharging urine.
Dysuria, Sauv. gen. 265. Lin. 57. Vog. 164.
Sag. 213.
Stranguria auctorvm.
A difficulty of making water may arise from many
different causes; as from some acrid matter in the
blood, cantbarides, for iustance ; and hence a stran¬
gury very often succeeds the application of blisters.
In many cases it arises from a compression of some
of the neighbouring parts ; of the uterus, for instance,
in a state of pregnancy. Or it may arise from a spas¬
modic affection of the bladder, or rather its sphincter;
or from an inflammetion of these parts, or others near
them. Hence the disease is distinguished into so many
species, the cure of which is to he attempted by reme¬
dies indicated by their different causes.
Rut the most common, as well as the most dangerous
species is that arising from a calculous concretion, or
Stone in the Bladder.
Dysuria calculosa, Sauv. sp. 1 2. 4QC
i he signs of a stone in the bladder are, pain, espe¬
cially about the sphincter ; and bloody urine, in conse¬
quence
p{ ;tice. M E D I
gnil cses. qucnce of riding or being jolted in a carriage ; a sense
l! ~~j of weight in the perinceuni ; an= itchiness of the glans
penis; slimy sediment in the urine j and frequent stop¬
pages in making water j a tenesmus also comes on while
the urine is discharged : but the most certain sign is,,
when the stone is felt by the linger introduced into the
anus, or by sounding.
Causes, &c. It is not easy to say what the particu¬
lar causes are which occasion the apparently earthy par¬
ticles of the fluids to run together, and form those eal-
eulous concretions which are found in different parts of
the body, and especially in the organs for secreting and
discharging the urine.
The gout and stone are generally supposed to have
some affinity, because gouty people are for the most
part afflicted with the gravel. But perhaps this is
in part owing to their long confinement, and to lying
on the back, which people who labour under the gout
are often obliged to submit to j since the want of exer¬
cise, and this posture, will naturally favour the stagna¬
tion of gross matters in the kidneys: besides, there are
many instances of people severely afflicted with the stone
for the greatest part of a long life, who have never had
the least attack of the gout.
There is, however*, good reason for believing, that
some farther connection takes place between the two
diseases j and when treating of the gout wTe have al¬
ready given some account of the opinion of an inge¬
nious anonymous author, who has endeavoured to
prove, that both the one and the other depend on a
peculiar acid, the concreting, lithic, or uric acid, which
is always present in blood j and which may be precipi¬
tated from thence by various causes, such as the intro¬
duction of other acids, or the like. When thus preci¬
pitated, he supposes it to produce the whole phenomena
of both diseases. The objections we formerly stated
to his theory of gout, do not equally militate against
that of calculus j and it is at least certain, from the
best chemical analysis, that what are commonly called
urinary calculi, and have been considered as entirely
an earthy matter, consist principally of acid in a solid
state united only with a small proportion of earth or
mucus. We may, therefore, whether this hypothesis
he altogether well founded or not, justly view lithiasis
as depending, in a great measure, on the separation of
an acid from the blood.
Whatever may be the particular cause of the disposi¬
tion to lithiasis, the kidneys appear to be the most like¬
ly places for particles to concrete or run together, be¬
cause of the great quantity of blood which passes
through the renal arteries, and which comes imme¬
diately from the heart, fraught with various newly re¬
ceived matters, that have not undergone much of the
action of the vessels, and therefore cannot as yet be sup¬
posed to be thoroughly assimilated.
Anatomists who have carefully examined the kid¬
neys in the human subject, particularly M. Bertin, in¬
form us, that there are two sets of tubuli uriniferi;
the one continued directly from the extremities ol
the renal artery, and the other springing from that
vesicular texture which is conspicuous in the kid¬
neys.
It is in this vesicular part of the kidney that we
presume the particles of the concreting matter first
stagnate and coalesce : for it is hardly to be supposed,
C I N E. 45
tnat such solid matters could be allowed to stop in Dysuria.
tue extremities of the renal arteries, since the blood,
and the urine separated from it, must flow through
these vessels with great degrees of force and velocity 3
but in the intermediate vesieulae the particles may lie,
and there attracting each other, soon come to acquire
sensible degrees oi magnitude, and thus become sand'
or gravel. As long as this sand or gravel formed in
the vesicular part of the kidney lies quiet, there will
he no pain or uneasiness, until the concretions beccme
large enough to press cither on the adjoining tubuli,
or on the blood-vessels} then a sense of weight, and
a kind of obtuse pain in the loins, will he left. But
"'hen the small pieces of concreting matter shall be-
dislodged and washed oil by the force of the circu¬
lating fluids, or loosened by some spasmodic action of
the moving fibres in these parts, they w ill in their pas¬
sage create pain, raise different degrees of inflamma¬
tion, or perhaps lacerate some blood-vessels, and cause
bloody urine. When these little concretions happen to
be detained in the pelvis of the kidney, or any other
place where a flow of urine continually passes, they
soon increase in size, and become calculi, from the con¬
stant accession of particles, which are attracted by the
original bit of sand, which thus becomes the nucleus-
of a stone.
It is an opinion which Hippocrates first advanced,
and which has been almost universally adopted by his-
followers, and has remained till lately uncontrovert-
ed, that the stone and gravel are generated by the use
of hard waiter. From the quality, which the waters of
certain springs possess, of depositing a large earthy sedi¬
ment, either in the aqueducts through which they are
conveyed, or in the vessels in which they are boiled or
preserved, it was conjectured, that in passing through
the kidneys, and especially whilst retained in the blad¬
der, they would let fall their grosser particles, whifcfl
by the continued apposition of fresh matter, connected
by the animal gluten, and compacted by the muscular
action of that organ, would in time form a calculus suf¬
ficiently large to produce a train of the most excruciat¬
ing Symptoms. And this reasoning a priori has been
supposed to be confirmed by facts and experience ; for
not to mention the authority of Hippocrates, Ur Lister
has observed, that the inhabitants of Paris are peculiar¬
ly subject to the stone in the bladder. Nicholas do Bleg-
ny has related the history of one who was dissected at
Paris, in whom the pylorus, a great part pf the duode¬
num, and the stomach itself, were found incrustated
with a stony matter, to the thickness of a finger’s
breadth. And it is well known, that the w’ater of the
river Seine, with which that city is supplied, is so im¬
pregnated with calcareous matter, as to incrustate, and
in a short time to choke up, the pipes through which
it runs. But on the other hand it is objected, that the
human calculus is of animal origin, and by chemical
analysis appears to bear very little analogy to the stony
concretions of water: and though it be allowed, that
more persons are cut for the stone in the hospitals at
Paris than in most other places; yet upon inquiry it is
found, that many of those patients come from different
provinces, and from towns and villages far distant from
the Seine.
Dr Percival conjectures, that though this disease may
chiefly depend upon a peculiar disposition to concrete
in
456  
F.piseheses. in the animal fluids, which in many instances is here-
u Jitary, and in no instance can with certainty he impu¬
ted to any particular cause j yet hard water is at least
negatively favourable to this diathesis, by having no
tendency "to diminish it. The urine of the most healthy
person is generally loaded with an apparently terreous
matter, capable in favourable circumstances of forming
a calculus j as is evident from the thick crust which it
deposits on the sides of the vessels in which it is contain¬
ed. And it seems as if nature intended by this excre¬
tion to discharge all the superfluous salts of the blood,
together with those earthy particles, which are either
derived from our aliment, and fine enough to pass
through the lacteals, though insuperable by the powers
of circulation, or which arise from the abrasion of the
solids, or from the dissolution of the red globular part
of our fluids. Now water, whether used as nature pre¬
sents us with it, or mixed with wine, or taken under
the form of beer or ale, is the great diluter, vehicle,
and menstruum, both of our food, and of the saline,
earthy, and excrementitious parts of the animal juices.
And it is more or less adapted to the performance of
these offices, in proportion to its degree of purity. For
it must appear evident to the most ordinary understand¬
ing, that a menstruum already loaded, and perhaps sa-
tured with diflerent contents, cannot act so powerfully
as one which is free from all sensible impregnation.
Nor is this reasoning founded upon theory alone j
for it is observed, that Malvern water, which issues
from a spring in Worcestershire, remarkable for its un¬
common purity, has the property of dissolving the little
sabulous stones which are often voided in nephritic
complaints. And the solution too, which is a proof
of its being complete, is perfectly colourless. Hence
tins Water is drunk with great advantage in disorders
of the urinary passages. And during the use of it, the
patient’s urine is generally limpid, and seldom deposits
any sandy sediment. Yet notwithstanding this appear¬
ance of transparency, it is certainly at such times load¬
ed with impurities, wdiicb are so diluted and dissolved
as not to be visible. For it is attended with a strong
and fetid smell, exactly resembling that of asparagus.
Hoffman mentions a pure, light, simple wrater in the
principality of Henneberg, in Germany, which is re¬
markable for its efficacy in the stone and gravel; and
a Water of similar virtues was discovered not many years
ago in the Black forest, near Osterod, which upon exa¬
mination did not afford a single grain of mineral matter,
indeed it is worthy of observation, that most of the
springs which were formerly held in great esteem, and
were called holy wells, are very pure, and yield little
or no sediment.
Hr Percival informs us that a gentleman of Man¬
chester, who had been long subject to nephritic com¬
plaints, and often voided small stones, was advised to
refrain from his own pump-water, which is uncom¬
monly hard, and to drink constantly the soft water
of a neighbouring spring ; and that this change alone,
without the use of any medicine, has rendered the re¬
turns of his disorder much less frequent and painful.
A lady also, much affected with the gravel, was in¬
duced by the perusal of the first edition of Hr Pexci-
val’s Essay, to try the effect of soft water ; and by the
constant use of it remained two years entirely free from
her disorder.
Practk
In nephritic cases, distilled water would he an excel- Dvsm.
lent substitute for Malvern watei', as the following ex- W
periment evinces.
Two fragments of the same calculus nearly of equal
weight, were immersed, the one in three ounces of di¬
stilled water, the other in three ounces of hard pump-
water. The phials were hung up close together in a
kitchen-chimney, at a convenient distance from the fire.
After 14 days maceration, the calculi xvere taken out,
and carefully dried by a very gentle heat. The for¬
mer, viz. that which had been immersed in distilled
water, was diminished in its weight a grain and a half;
the latter had lost only half a grain.
It is the passage of these calculi from the kidneys
down into the bladder, which occasions the pain, vo¬
miting, and other symptoms, that constitute what is
usually termed ^ fit of the gravel or stone.
When an inflammation is actually raised, the disease
is known by the name of nephritis, and has been already
treated of. p
As soon as the stone passes through the ureter, and
falls into the bladder, the pain and other nephritic
symptoms cease; and every thing will remain quiet,
either till the stone be carried into the urethra, or until
it has remained long enough in the bladder to acquire
weight sufficient to create new distress.
If a stone happen to be smooth and of a roundish
form, it may lie in the bladder and acquire consider¬
able bulk before it can be perceived by the patient;
but when it is angular, or has a rugged surface, even
though it may be small in size, yet it seldom fails to
raise pain, and occasion bloody urine, or the discharge
of a slimy fluid, with tenesmus, and difficulty in making
water.
There have been various attempts made to dissolve
the stone ; and there are certainly some articles which
have this effect when applied to them out of the body;
hut the almost total impossibility of getting these con¬
veyed to the kidneys, renders it extremely doubtful
whether a solvent ever will be discovered. Of all the
articles employed for this purpose, no one perhaps has
had greater reputation than fixed alkaline salt in its cau¬
stic state, particularly under the form of the lixivium
causticum, or aqua potassce, as it is now called : but this
being of a very acrid nature, it requires to be well
sheathed by means of some gelatinous or mucilaginous
vehicle. Veal-broth is as convenient as any for
this purpose ; and accordingly it is used by those who
make a secret of the caustic alkali as a solvent of cal¬
culus.
Mr Blackrie, who has taken much pains in this in¬
quiry, has proved very satisfactorily, that Chittrick’s
nostrum is no other than soap-lees given in veal-broth,
which the patients send every day to the doctor, who
returns it mixed up with the medicine, in a close vessel
secured by a lock.
It is not every case, however, that either requires
or will bear a course of the caustic alkali. Some cal¬
culi are of that soft and friable nature, that they will
dissolve even in common water; and there are cases
wherein it appears that the constant use of some very
simple decoction or infusion of an insignificant vege¬
table, has brought away large quantities of earthy
matter, in flakes which apparently have been united
together in layers to form a stone. Hr Macbride as¬
sures
MEDICINE.
f dice. Medicine.
heses. sures us, tlmt a decoction of raw coffee, only 30 her-
'ries in a quart of water, boiled till it acquired a deep
greenish colour, taken morning and evening to the
quantity of eight or ten ounces, with ten drops of
sweet spirit of nitre, had the powerful effect of hrino--
ing away, in the course of about two months, as
much earthy matter in flakes as filled a large tea-cup.
The patient was far advanced in years j and, before he
began this decoction, bad been reduced to great extre¬
mities by the continuance of pain and other distres¬
sing symptoms : he was purged occasionally with oleum
ricini.
Very lately the alkali in a mild state, and in a dif-
feient loim, has been much used by many calculous
patients, and with great advantage, under the form
ot what is called alkaline aerated water^ the aqua super-
carbonatis potassae of the present edition of the Edin¬
burgh Pharmacopoeia. For the introduction of this
medicine, or at least for its extensive use, ive are chiefly
indebted to the ingenious physician Dr William Fal¬
coner of Bath. He has lately published an account of
the Aqua Mephitica Alkaiina, or solution of fixed al¬
kaline salt, saturated with fixable air, in calculous dis¬
orders 3 which contains a number of cases strongly sup¬
porting the benefit to be derived from it. But whe¬
ther the good effects obtained in these instances are to
be explained from its opex-ating as a solvent of calculus,
seems to be extremely doubtful. There are indeed cases
in Dr Falconer’s treatise, of patients in whom, after
using it for a considerable time, no stone could he de¬
tected by sounding, although it had been discovered in
that way befoi’e they began the employment of it. But
m many instances, the relief has been so sudden, that it
may be Concluded, that, notwithstanding the ease ob¬
tained, the calculus still remained. In such cases, it
probably removed from the urine that quality by which
it gives to the calculus fresh accretions, producing that
roughness of its surface by which it is chiefly capable of
acting as a stimulus. For the distressing symptoms re¬
sulting from stone are chiefly to be attributed to the
inflammatory and spasmodic affections which it induces 3
and when its surface is least capable of operating as a
stimulus, these of course will he least considerable. It
is therefore not improbable, that this remedy produces
relief, by preventing fresh additions being made to the
calculus.
An infusion of the seeds of daucus sylvestris sweeten-
ed with honey, is another simple and much celebrated
remedy ; it has been found to give considerable ease in
cases where the stomach could not bear any thing of an
acrid nature. The leaves of the uva ursi were strongly
recommended by the late celebrated De Haen 3 and
this, whatever its way of operating may he, seems to
have been productive of good effects in some instances.
I here is no reason to believe that it has any influence
111 dissolving calculus 3 and indeed it seems to be chief¬
ly useful in these instances whefe ulcerations take place
m the urinary passages.
In the Edinburgh Medical Commentaries, vol. ilk
we have an account of a method used by the inhabi¬
tants of Arabia Petrcea for curing the stone, to which
they are very much subject, and which the author (an
English gentleman of experience and candour) affirms
he has seen frequently performed with success. By
means ot a catheter, they inject into the bladder a weak
^ ol. XIII, Part IL t
ley of alkali with the purified fat of a sheep’s tail, and
a proper quantity of opium, all put together. Their
catheters are made of gold ; and in performing the
operation they introduce them quite into the bladder 5
so that the composition is safely conveyed to the stone
without hurting any other part. But when a stone
is situated in the kidney, they have no method of
cure.
If this method of curing by injection could be safely
piactised, it would no doubt have the advantage over
that of taking alkalies by the mouth, where the medi¬
cine is not only much weakened, but the constitution of
the patient runs the risk of being greatly injured. But
from some experiments mentioned in the second volume
of the Medical Transactions, and still more from the
chemical analysis of urinary concretions, lately publish¬
ed by Fourcroy and other modern chemists, it appears
that the human calculi are very different from one an¬
other in their natures. Some, for instance, will easily
yield to an alkaline menstruum, and very little to an
acid 3 while others are found to resist the alkali, and
yield to the acid ; and some are of such a compact na¬
ture, that they yield neither to acids nor alkalies. An
attention, however, to the fragments, scales, or films,
which the stone may cast ofl', and also to the contents
and sediment of the urine, may lead to the discovery of
what solvent is proper, or whether the stone can be dis¬
solved by any. To use either alkalies or acids impro¬
perly liiay he hurtful 3 though there may he such kinds
of calculi as demand the alternate use of acids and al¬
kalies 3 nay, there tnay he found calculi of opposite
kinds in the same subject.
In such cases as will not allow ns to think of dissol¬
ving the stony concretions, and where the only object
is to palliate and procure ease from time to time,
little more can he done than to keep the bowels open
occasionally by some gentle cathartic, and wash oft' as
much of the loose gravelly matter and slime a3 can be
removed by such mild diuretic infusions and decoc¬
tions as shall he found to pass freely and sit fvell on
the stomach. Persons afflicted with the stone should he
careful in respect of their diet, and studiously avoid all
heavy and flatulent food, as well as high sauces that
are apt to turn rancid. For the same reason, butter and
acids are to he shunned 3 for these often create heart¬
burning, and every thing that offends the stomach
raises the nephritic pain 3 such is the sympathy that
obtains between the digestive and the uropoietic or¬
gans.
There have been surgeons hold enough to entertain
an idea of cutting even into the kidney, in order to
extract a stone : this, however, except in cases where
an abscess has been formed, and nature points out the
way, is both very uncertain and very hazardous. But
tutting into the bladder for the same purpose, is an an¬
cient and well known operation, and often crowned
with success. A description, however, of this opera¬
tion belongs to the article Surgery, to which we re¬
fer 3 and here shall only make this remark, that a sui-
geon should never begin his operation, until he and his
assistants are perfectly satisfied, from actually feeling
the stone, that there is one in the bladder 3 because it
has sometimes happened, that when the incision has
been made, no stone could be found : and the patient
having died in consequence of the operation, and the
3 M body
Dvsaria.
458 M E D I
J'piseheses. botly being openetl, it has appealed that the symptoms
i—Y—j’ which occasioned the belief of a stone in the bladder
arose from some other cause.
When a dysuria proceeds from any acrimonious mat¬
ter thrown into the blood, it may be readily cured by
bleeding, emollient clysters, cooling and diluting drinks
with gum arabic or gum tragacanth, linseed tea, or
the warm bath. When it arises from inflammations of
the bladder or parts adjoining to it, we are to regard
it only as a symptomatic aftection 5 and the remedies
used to remove the primary disease will also remove the
dysuria. Sometimes it may arise from an ulcer of the
bladder ; in which case it is generally incurable; a
mild nutritious diet will, however, protract the patient’s
life *, and even render that life tolerable, by alleviating
symptoms.
401 Genus CXXV. DYSPERMATISMUS.
Difficult Emission 0/’Semen.
Dvspermatismus, Sauv. gen. 260.
Sterilitas, Lin. 171. Sag. 211.
Agenesia, Vog. 283.
This impediment proceeds generally from obstruc¬
tions in the urethra, either by tumors in itself, or in
the cavernous bodies of the penis j in which case the
treatment is the same as in the ischuria urethralis j
sometimes it is owing to a kind of epileptic fit which
seizes the man in the venereal act 5 and sometimes the
semen, when ejected from the proper receptacles, is
again absorbed, or flows into the bladder, and is expel¬
led along with the urine. The last case it is very diffi¬
cult, or even impossible, to cure j as proceeding from
scirrhi, or other indissoluble tumors of the verumonta-
num, or the neighbouring parts. It is also, in gene¬
ral, incurable. In some it proceeds merely from too
violent an erection •, in which case emollient and relax¬
ing medicines will be of service j and wre have an ex¬
ample of a cure performed by means of these in the first
volume of the Edinburgh Medical Essays.,
4°z Genus CXXVI. AMENORRHOEA...
Suppression of the Menses. .
Amenorrhcea, Vog. 130.
Dysmenorrhoea, Lin. 168. Sag. 218.
This obstruction, with many other symptoms, as
dyspepsia, yellowish or greenish colour of the skin, un¬
usual appetites, &c. constitutes the chlorosis already
treated of, a disease which seldom or never appears
without a suppression of the menses. In Dr Home’s
Clinical Experiments w'e find the virtues of several em-
menagogues set forth in the following manner. Chaly-
beates seldom or never succeeded : they were always
found more useful in diminishing the. evaluation when
CINE. _ Practi;,
too violent, than in restoring it when deficient. The Amen
tincture of black hellebore proved successful only in one rhJ
of nine or ten cases, though given to the length of four v,~V J
tea-spoonfuls a-day, which is double the quantity re¬
commended by Dr Mead. Compression of the crural
artery, recommended by Dr Hamilton in the Physical
and Literary Essays, vol. ii. proved successful only in
one of six cases. From the effects produced by this
compression, it has the strongest appearance of loading
the uterus with blood; from the sensations of the pa¬
tient it produces the same effects as the approach of the
menses, and has every appearance in its favour; yet
does not succeed. Dr Home supposes that the uterus is
most frequently in too plethoric and inflammatory a
state y in which case, this remedy will do more hurt
than in a state of inanition j hoivever, he owns, that in
the case in which it did succeed, the patient was ple¬
thoric and inflammatory. Venesection is recommended
as an excellent remedy j the doctor gives three instan¬
ces of its success, and says he could give many more.
It acts by removing the plethoric state of the uterus,
relaxing the fibres, and giving the vessels full play 3 so
that their action overcomes all resistance, and the eva¬
cuation takes place. It is of no great moment from
whence the blood is taken: the saphsenic vein has been
supposed to empty the uterus most 3 but it is difficult to
get the proper quantity from it, and the quantity of the
discharge cannot be so well measured. The powder of
savine is a most powerful remedy 3 and proved success¬
ful in three cases out of four in which it was tried. It
was given to the quantity of half a dram twice a-day.
It is a strong topical stimulus, and seems improper in
plethoric habits. Madder-root, according to Dr Home,
is a very powerful medicine in this disease 3 and proved
successful in 14 out of 19 cases in which it was tried,
being sometimes exhibited in the quantity of two scru¬
ples, or a dram, four times a-day. It has scarcely any
sensible effects 3 never quickens the pulse, or excites in¬
flammatory symptoms : on the contrary, the heat, thirst,
and other complaints abate ; and sometimes these symp¬
toms are removed, though the disease be not cured; but
when it succeeds, the menses appear from the third to
the 12th day.
We have now considered all those diseases enumera¬
ted in Dr Cullen’s Nosology, the cure of which is to
be attempted chiefly by internal medicines. The other
genera either require particular manual operations, or a
very considerable use of external applications ; and
therefore more properly fall under the article Surgery.
10 this, therefore, we shall refer the genera which fall
under the three last orders of the class of locales, viz.
the tumores^ ectopiee, and dialyses; and we shall add,
by way ol Appendix, a few observations on some im¬
portant affections to which Dr Cullen has not given
a place in his system, or which practitioners in general
are not agreed in referring to any one particular genus
which he has mentioned.
APPENDIX,
Aj endix.
Ai >a
Pi ris.
M E D I C I N E.
APPENDIX.
450
Angina
Pectoris.
ANGINA PECTORIS.
Dr Heberden was the first who described this dis¬
ease, though it is an extremely dangerous, and, by his
account, not very rare affection. It seizes those who
are subject to it when they are walking, and particu¬
larly when they walk soon after eating, with a most
disagreeable and painful sensation in the breast, which
seems to threaten immediate destruction : but the mo¬
ment they stand still, all the uneasiness vanishes. In all
other respects the patients at the beginning of this dis¬
order are well, and have no shortness of breath ; from
which the angina pectoris is totally different. After it
has continued some months, the fits will not cease in¬
stantaneously on standing still 5 and it will come on not
only when the patients are walking, but when they are
lying down, and oblige them to rise up out of bed every
night for many months together. In one or two very
inveterate cases, it has been brought on by the motion
of a horse or carriage, and even by swallowing, cough-
ing, going to stool, speaking, or by any disturbance of
mind. The persons affected were all men, almost all
of whom were above 50 years of age, and most of them
with a short neck and inclining to be fat. Something
like it, however, was observed in one woman, who was
paralytic 5 and one or two young men complained of it
in a slight degree. Other practitioners have observed
it in very young persons.
When a fit of this sort comes on by walking, its du¬
ration is very short, as it goes off almost immediately
upon stopping. If it comes on in the night, it will last
an hour or two. Dr Heberden met with one in whom
it once continued for several days ; during all which
time the patient seemed to be in imminent danger
of death. Most of those attacked with the distemper
died suddenly : though this rule wras not without ex¬
ceptions ; and Dr Heberden observed one who sunk
under a lingering illness of a different nature.
The os stei'ni is usually pointed to as the seat of this
malady. It seems as if it was under the lower part ot
that bone, and at other times under the middle or up¬
per part, but always inclining more to the left side •,
and in many cases there is joined with it a pain about
the middle of the left arm, which appears to be seated
in the biceps muscle.
The appearance of Dr Heberden’s paper in the Me¬
dical Transactions very soon raised the attention of the
faculty, and produced other observations from phy¬
sicians of eminence •, particularly Dr Fothergili, Dr
Wall of Worcester, Dr Haygarth of Chester, and Dr
Percival of Manchester, ft also induced an unknown
sufferer under the disease to write Dr Heberden a very
sensible letter, describing his feelings in the most na¬
tural manner; which, unfortunately, in three weeks
after the date of this anonymous epistle, terminated
in a sudden death, as the writer himself had appre¬
hended.
The youngest subject that Dr Fothergill ever saw
afflicted with this disorder was about 30 years ol age j
and this person was cured. The method that succeed¬
ed with him was a course of pills, composed of the mass
of gum pill, soap, and native cinnabar; with a light
chalybeate bitter : this wras,continued for some months,
after which he went to Bath several successive seasons,
and acquired his usual health : he was ordered to be
very sparing in his diet; to keep the bowels open ; and
to use moderate exercise on horseback, but not to take
long or fatiguing walks.
The only symptom in this patient that is mentioned,
was a stricture about the chest, which came on if he
wras walking up hill or a little faster than ordinary, or
if he was riding at a very brisk trot ; for moderate ex¬
ercise of any kind did not affect him : and this uneasy
sensation always obliged him to stop, as he felt himself
threatened with immediate death if he had been obliged,
to go forward.
It is the sharp constrictive pain across the chest which
(according to Dr Fothergill’s observation) particularly
marks this singular disease ; and which is apt to super¬
vene upon a certain degree of muscular motion, or
whatever agitates the nervous system.
In such cases as fell under the inspection of Dr Fo¬
thergill, he very seldom met with one that was not at¬
tended with an irregular and intermitting pulse ; not
only during the exacerbations, but often when the pa¬
tient was free from pain and at rest : but Dr Heber¬
den observes, that the pulse is, at least sometimes, not
disturbed ; and mentions his having once had an op¬
portunity of being convinced of this circumstance, by
feeling the pulse during the paroxysm.
But no doubt these varieties, as well as many other
little circumstances, will occur in this disease, as they
do in every other, on account of the diversity of the hu¬
man frame; and if those Avhicli in general are found
to predominate and give the distinguishing character
be present, they will always authorise us in giving the
name to the disease - thus, when we find the constnc-
tory pain across the chest, accompanied with a sense
of strangling or suffocation ; and still more, 11 tins pain
should strike across the breast into one or both arms;
we should not hesitate to pronounce the case an angina
pectoris.
As to the nature of this disease, it appears to he
purely spasmodic: and this opinion will readily present
itself to any one who considers the sudden manner of
its coming on and going off ; the long intervals of pei-
feet ease ; the relief afforded by wine and spirituous
cordials; the influence which passionate affections of
the mind has over it; the ease which comes from
varying the posture of the head and shoulders, 01 iiom
remaining quite motionless ; the number of years .ol
which it will continue, without otherwise disordering
health; its hearing so well the motion of a horse or
carriage, which circumstance often distinguishes spas¬
modic pains from those which arise from ulcers ; and,
lastly, its coming on for the most part after a full meal,
and in certain patients at night, just after the first sleep,
at which time the incubus, convulsive asthma, and
other diseases, justly attributed to the disordered fnne-
3 M 2 tioas
46o‘ M E D I
Angina tlons of the nerves, arc peculiarly apt to return or to be
Pectoris, aggravated.
From all these circumstances taken together, there
can he little doubt that this affection is of a spasmodic
nature : but though it should be admitted, that the
whole distress in these cases arise from spasm, it may not
be so easy to ascertain the particular muscles which are
thus affected.
The violent sense of strangling or choking, which
shows the circulation through the lungs to be inter¬
rupted during the height of the paroxysm 5 and the pe¬
culiar constrictive pain under the sternum, always in¬
clining (according to Dr Heberden’s observation) to
the left side } together with that most distressing and
alarming sensation, which, if it were to increase or
continue, threatens an immediate extinction of life ;
might authorise us to conclude that the heart itself is
the muscle affected : the only objection to this idea is,
that the pulse is not always interrupted during the pa¬
roxysm. The appearances in two of the dissections, fa¬
vour the opinion that the spasm affects the heart 5 as in
one subject the left ventricle was found as empty of
blood as if it had been washed ", and in another, the
substance of the heart appeared whitish, not unlike a
ligament ; as it should seem, in both cases, from the
force of the spasm squeezing the blood out from the ves¬
sels and cavities.
If this hypothesis he allowed, we must conclude that
the spasm can only take place in an inferior degree, as
long as the patient continues to survive the paroxysm ;
since an affection of this sort, and in this part, of any
considerable duration or violence, must inevitably prove
fatal : and accordingly, as far as could be traced, the
persons who have been known to labour under this dis¬
ease have in general died suddenly.
I he dissections also show, that whatever may he the
true seat of the spasm, it is not necessary for the bring¬
ing of it on, that the heart, or its immediate appenda¬
ges, should be in a morbid state 5 for in three out of the
six that have as yet been made public, these parts
were found in a sound state.
On opening the body of the poor gentleman who
wrote the letter to Dr Heberden, “ upon the most
careful examination, no manifest cause of his death
could be discovered *, the heart, in particular, with its
vessels and valves, wrere all found in a natural condi¬
tion.”
In the case communicated by Dr Percival to the pub¬
lishers of the Edinburgh IMedical Commentaries, “ the
heart and aorta descendens were found in a sound state.”
And in Dr Haygarth’s patient, “ on opening the tho¬
rax, the lungs, pericardium, and heart, appeared per¬
fectly sound.” Not to mention Dr Fothergill’s pa¬
tient (R. M.), in whose body the only morbid ap¬
pearance about the heart was a small white spot near the
apex. Thus the cause, whatever its nature might have
been, was at too great a distance, or of too subtile a
nature, to come under the inspection of the anatomist.
Hut there was a circumstance in two of the subjects that
IS worthy of remembrance; and which shows that the
erasis of the blood, while they were living, must have
been greatly injured, namely, its not coagulating, but
remaining of a cream-like consistence, without any se¬
paration into serum and crassamentum.
CINE. Practic
From all that we have seen hitherto published, it does An„-
not appear that any considerable advances have been Peetoi
made towards the actual cure of this anomalous spasm. ^T*
The very judicious and attentive Dr Heberden (to
whom the public are highly indebted for first making
the disorder known) confesses, that bleedings, vomits,
and other evacuations, have not appeared to do any
good : wine and cordials taken at bed-time, will some¬
times prevent or weaken the fits ; but nothing does this
so effectually as opiates : in short, the medicines usually
called nervous or cordial, such as relieve and quiet con¬
vulsive motions, and invigorate the languishing princi¬
ple of life, are what he recommends.
Dr Wall mentions one patient, out of the 12 or 13
that he had seen, who applied to him early in the dis¬
ease, and was relieved considerably by the use of anti-
monial medicines joined with the fetid gum : he was
still living at the time the doctor wrote his paper,
(November 1772), and going about with tolerable ease.
Two were carried oft by other disorders ; all the rest
died suddenly.
Dr Fothergill’s directions are chiefly calculated with
the view to prevent the disorder from gaining ground,
and to alleviate present distress. Accordingly lie en¬
joins such a kind of diet as may he most likely to pre¬
vent irritability : in particular, not to eat voraciously:
to he very abstemious in respect to every thing heating j
spices, spirits, wines, and all fermented liquors: to
guard most scrupulously against passion, or any vehement
emotions ; and to make use of all the usual means of
establishing and preserving general health : to mitigate
excesses of irritability by anodynes •, or pains, if they
quicken the circulation : to disperse flatulencies when
they distend the stomach, by moderate doses of carmina¬
tives; amongst which, perhaps, simple peppermint wa¬
ter may be reckoned one of the safest. But since obesity
is justly considered as a principal predisposing cause, he
insists strongly on the necessity of preventing an increase
of fat, by a vegetable diet, and using every ether prac¬
ticable method of augmenting the thinner secretions.
These were the only means recommended by the
practitioners mentioned above for opposing this formi¬
dable disease : hut Dr Smyth of Ireland has, wre are
told, discovered that it may be certainly cured by
issues, of which Dr Macbride gives the following in¬
stance.
“ A. B. a tall well-made man ; rather large than
otherwise ; of healthy parents, except that there had
been a little gout in the family ; temperate ; being
very attentive to the business of his trade (that of a
watchmaker), led a life uncommonly sedentary; had,
from his boyhood upwards, been remarkably subject
to alarming inflammations of his throat, which seized
him, at least, once in the course of the year ; in all other
respects well.
“ In 1767, (then 48 years of age), he was taken,
without any evident cause, with a sudden and very
dispiriting throbbing under the sternum. It soon
afterwards increased, and returned upon him every
third or fourth week, accompanied with great anxiety,
very laborious breathing, choking, a sensation of
fulness and distention in the head, a bloated and
flushed countenance, turgid and watery eyes, and a
very irregular and unequal pulse. The paroxysm in¬
vaded
^ semlix. M EDI
A na vadcd, almost constantly, while he was sitting at
( j\ iris, dinner: now and then he was seized with it in the
*— ——1 morning, when walking a little faster than usual; and
was then obliged to stop, and rest on any object at
hand. Once or twice it came on in bed 5 but did not
oblige him to sit up, as it was then attended with no
great difficulty in breathing. In the afternoon fits,
his greatest ease was from a supine posture ; in which
he used to continue motionless for some hours, until,
quite spent and worn out with anguish, he dropt into
a slumber. In the intervals between these attacks,
which at length grew so frequent as to return every
fourth or fifth day, he was to appearance in perfect
health.
“ Thus matters continued for more than twro years •,
and various antispasmodics were ineffectually tried for
his relief. In 1769, there supervened a very sharp
constrictory pain at the upper end of the sternum,
stretching equally on each side, attended with the for¬
mer symptoms of anxiety, dyspnoea, choking, &c.
and with an excruciating cramp, as he called it, that
could be covered with a crown-piece, in each of his
arms, between the elbow and the wrist, exactly at the
insertion of the pronator teres 5 the rest of tiie limb
was quite free. The fits were sometimes brought on,
and always exasperated, by any agitation of mind or
bodv. He once attempted to ride on horseback du¬
ring the paroxysm ; but the experiment was near prov¬
ing fatal to him. The difference of season or Weather
made no impression upon him. Still, in the intervals,
his health was perfectly good ; except that his eyes,
which before his illness were remarkably strong and
clear, were now grown extremely tender: and that his
sight was much impaired. He had no flatulency of
stomach, and his bowels were regular.
“ In this situation, February 22. 1770, he applied
to me for assistance. I had seen, I believe, eight or
ten of these frightful cases before. Two of the patients
dropt dead suddenly. They were men between 40 and
50 years of age, and of a make somewhat fleshy. The
fate of the others I was not informed of 5 or, at least
cannot now recollect.
“ Having found the total inefficacy of blisters and
the whole class of nervous medicines in the treatment
of this anomalous spasm, I thought it right to attempt
the correcting or draining oft of the irritating fluid
in the case now before us. To this purpose, I ordered
a mixture of lime-water with a little of the compound
juniper-water, and an alterative proportion of Huxham’s
antimonial wine : I put the patient on a plain, light,
perspirable dietj and restrained him from all viscid,
flatulent, and acrimonious articles. By pursuing this
course, he was soon apparently mended ; but after he
had persisted regularly in it for at least two months,
he kept for some time at a stand. I then ordered a
large issue to be opened on each of his thighs. Only
one was made. However, as soon as it began to dis¬
charge, his amendment manifestly increased, ffhe fre¬
quency and severity of the fits abated considerably:
and he continued improving gradually, until, at the
end of 18 months he was restored to perfect health :
which he has enjoyed, without the least interruption,
till now, except when he has been tempted (perhaps
once in a twelvemonth) to transgress rules, by making
a large meal on salted meat, or indulging himself in
CINE. 461
ale or rum-punch, each of which never failed to dis- ^n„jlla
order him from the beginning of his illness: and even Pectoris,
on these occasions, he has felt no more than the slight-■ -»
est motion of his former sufferings; insomuch that he
would despise the attack, if it did not appear to be of
the same stock with his old complaint. No other cause
has had the least ill effect on him.
“ Though rum was constantly hurtful, yet punch
made with a maceration of black currants in our vul¬
gar corn-spirit, is a liquor that agrees remarkably well
with him.
“ He never took any medicine after the issue began
to discharge 5 and I have directed that it shall be
kept open as long as he lives. The inflammations of
his throat have disappeared for five years past he
has recovered the strength and clearness of his sight •,
and his health seems now to be entirely re-establish¬
ed.”
Dr Macbride, in a letter to Dr Duncan, published
in the Edinburgh Medical Commentaries, gives the fol¬
lowing additional observations on this disease.
“ Within these few weeks I have, at the desire of
Dr Smyth, visited, three or four times, a very inge¬
nious man who keeps an academy in this city, of about
34 years of age, who applied to the doctor for his ad¬
vice in January last.
“ 1 shall give you his symptoms as I had them from
his own mouth, which appear to me to mark his case
to be an angina pectoris, and as deplorable as any
that I have read of. It was strongly distinguished by
the exquisite constrictory pain of the sternum, extend¬
ing to each of his arms as far as the insertion of the
deltoid muscle, extreme anxiety, laborious breathing,
strangling, and violent palpitation of the heart, with
a most irregular pulse. The paroxysms were so fre¬
quent, that he scarcely ever escaped a day, for six or
seven years, without one. They were usually excited
by any agitation of mind or body, thought slight. He
had clear intervals of health between the fits. J he
distemper seems hereditary in him, as he says his fa¬
ther was affected in the same manner some years pre¬
vious to his death. He has a strong gouty taint, which
never showed itself m Ins limbs j and he has led a life
of uncommon sedentariness, from intense application to
mathematical studies, and attention of mind, and pas¬
sion, even from his boyish years. These circumstances
may, perhaps, account for his having been taken with
this disease at so early an age as 17.
“ A large issue was immediately opened in each of
his thighs. In a month afterwards he began to mend,
and has gone on improving gradually. He can now
run up stairs briskly, as I saw him do no later than
yesterday, without hurt j can bear agitation ol mind j
and has no complaint, excepting a slight oppression of
the breast, under the sternum, which he feels some¬
times in a morning, immediately after dressing him¬
self, and which he thinks is brought on by the motion
used in putting on his clothes} though lor a complete
week preceding the day on which I saw him last, he
told me that he had been entirely free from all un¬
easiness, and was exulting that he had not had such an
interval of ease for these last seven years.
“ Doctor Smyth also showed me, in his adversaria,
the case of a gentleman who had been under his care
in 1760. which he had forgotten when my book
' went <
4<f2 ME D I
Puei^eral to tlie fircss, ancl which he was reminded of the
Fever, other day by a visit from his patient. It was a ge-
nujne angina pectoris, brought on by a very seden¬
tary life, and great vexation of mind, clearly marked
by the exquisite pain under the sternum, that extend¬
ed acutely to the upper extremities, particularly along
the left arm, together with the other symptoms of
dyspnoea, anxiety, palpitation of the heart, &c. re¬
cited in the case above. The disorder went otf in
1762, by large spontaneous discharges from the piles,
but returned upon him severely in 1765' Issues in
his thighs were then recommended to him, but not
made* But, whether it was by the persuasion of some
friend, or of his own accord, he went into a course
of James’s powder, in small alterative doses, com¬
bined with a little castor and asafoetida. This he
persisted in for about six weeks } in the meanwhile, he
had large acrimonious gleetings from the scrotum, and
a plentiful discharge of ichor from the anus.—From this
time he began to find his complaints grow less and less
distressing, and he has now been totally free from them
for six years past.
404 The PUERPERAL or Childbed Fever.
This species of fever, as its name imports, is pecu¬
liar to women in childbed y and is usually the most
fatal of all the disorders to which the sex is liable. But*
notwithstanding the prevalence of it in all ages, its
real nature has remained, to t{ie present time, a subject
of much dispute and uncertainty. The critical period
of its invasion, when febrile commotions are apt to be
excited by various accidents, and the equivocal symp¬
toms which accompany it, have even ^afforded room
for questioning whether it be a primary or a secondary
disease. Some writers have considered it as proceeding
entirely from an inflammation of the uterus; others
have imagined it to be the consequence of an obstruc¬
tion to the secretion of the milk} while the greater
number has been inclined, for reasons equally if not
more plausible, to impute it to a suppression of the
lochia. If we examine this fever attentively, however,
according to its natural course, and independently of all
the accidental concomitant symptoms with which it is
not essentially connected, wre may safely pronounce it to
be a primary disease of a particular nature, and perhaps
not the necessary consequence of any of the causes above
mentioned.
Tins fever is most generally incident to women with¬
in 48 hours after delivery, though it may supervene on
the fourth or fifth day, and sometimes considerably
later. It is preceded, like other fevers, by a rigor,
which is commonly violent; and when happening du¬
ring the time of labour, may be confounded with the.
pains of parturiency. In its earlier stage it is attended
with the signs of inflammation. A great pain is felt
in the back, hips, and the region of the uterus j which,
in the part last mentioned, is accompanied with the
sense ot heat and throbbing. A sudden change in the
quality or quantity of the lochia now also takes place ;
the patient is frequently troubled with a tenesmus 5 and
the urine, which is very high-coloured, is discharged
in small quantity and with pain. At the first attack
of the fever, the woman is generally seized with a vo-
mstuig of porraceous matter, as in the cholera morbus,
3
CINE, Append,’
to which disease it then hears a strong resemblance p1Jei
But instead of this symptom, there is sometimes only Fevei
a nausea, or loathing at the stomach, with a disagree-'■—w
able taste in the mouth. The belly swells to a consi¬
derable bulk, and becomes susceptible of painful sen¬
sations from the slightest impression. The tongue is
generally dry, though sometimes moist, and covered
With a thick brownish fur. W hen the fever has con¬
tinued a feiv days, the symptoms of inflammation
usually subside, and the disease acquires a more putrid
form. At this period, if not at the very beginning of
the disorder, a bilious or putrid diarrhoea, of a danger¬
ous and obstinate nature, supervenes, and accompanies
it through all its future progress; each motion to stool
being preceded by a temporary increase, and followed
by an alleviation of pain. The patient usually nau¬
seates all kind of food and drink, except what is cold
and acidulated. A brown or blackish sordes, the con¬
sequence of putrid exhalations, adheres to the edges of
the teeth ; a troublesome hiccough is at length produ¬
ced, which greatly exasperates the pains of the abdo¬
men ; peteehise or vibices also appear, with sometimes
a miliary eruption, but which produces no mitigation
of the disease. Through the whole course of the fever,
the patient is affected with great anxiety and dejection
of spirits.
Such in general is the course of the puerperal fever:
the symptoms of which, however, may be often varied,
according to the constitution of the patient, the degree
of the disease, and its earlier or later invasion. When
the woman is naturally weak, or her strength has been
greatly reduced by immoderate evacuations after de¬
livery 5 when the disease is violent, and immediately
follows that period ; its progress and termination are
proportionally rapid and fatal. In such unfortunate
circumstances, many have been known to expire with¬
in 24 hours from the first attack of the disease 5 nay,
there are some instances where the rigor has concluded
the scene. The catastrophe, however, is most gene¬
rally suspended for some days 5 and the number of these
is variable, though the nth from the commencement
of the lever may justly be fixed as the period which
is usually decisive. In whatever stage of the disease
an unfavourable termination may happen, it would seem
as if the commencement of the patient’s recovery were
not marked by any critical revolution of the fever, as
depending on an alteration of the humours ; but that
the cure is gradually effected, either by a spontaneous
vomiting, or a long-continued discharge by stool of
that porraceous matter, the existence of which in the
stomach is usually evinced at the first attack of the
disease. The most unfavourable prognostic, therefore,
arises from such a weakness of the patient as renders
her unable to support so tedious an evacuation as that by
which the fever is overcome. When the lochia return
to their former state, when the swelling and tenderness
of the abdomen abate, and there is a moisture on the
skin, we have reason to hope for a happy termination of
the disease.
J hough the puerperal fever may generally be ascer¬
tained from the description which has been given, and
chiefly by that remarkable tenderness of the abdomen
which particularly distinguishes it : yet, as some of its
symptoms may be confounded with those arising from
other diseases, and which require a different method
of
A )endix. M E D 1
)eral of cure, it will Le proper to mention here the circum-
I er. stances by which it may be known with greater cer-
—J tainty.
The pains of the abdomen, attending the childbed
fever, may be distinguished from those called after-
pains, by their uninterrupted continuance through the
course of the disease, though sometimes they suffer
exacerbations 5 whereas, in the latter, they often to¬
tally intermit. They are also distinguished by the ab¬
sence of fever with concomitant symptoms in the one,
and their evident existence in the other.
Many circumstances evince a dissimilarity between
the puerperal and miliary fevers, notwithstanding the
symptoms of anxiety and oppression are common to
both; insomuch that the nature of the approaching
disease may be ascertained at the very commencement
of its attack. In the puerperal fever the rigor is more
violent, of longer duration, and not interrupted, as it is
in the other. The pulse is fuller and stronger •, the skin
is more hot $ and the tongue, whether moist or dry,
though generally the latter, is not of a white, but
brownish appearance; and the urine is also higher co¬
loured. Eruptions, which are critical in miliary fevers,
procure no mitigation of the puerperal fever, and
cordials generally increase it.
When the original attack of the puerperal fever hap¬
pens to coincide with the febrile commotion which is
excited in childbed women by the milk, the nature of
it may at first be misapprehended ; but the concomitant
symptoms, and greater violence of the disease, must in
a short time dissipate such an error.
From all the most acciwate accounts of this disease,
and from the period at which it generally commences,
there seems reason to conclude, that it owes its rise
more immediately to accidents after delivery. For it
is allowed that it may follow a labour under the best
and most favourable circumstances, though endeavours
to dilate the os internum are supposed frequently to
produce it. The more immediate causes generally as¬
signed by authors are a stoppage of perspiration, the
too free use of spices, and the neglect of procuring
stools after delivery; sudden frights, too hasty a se^
paration of the placenta, and binding the abdomen toe
tight. The putrid appearance, however, which this
disease so soon assumes, affords ground to suspect that
the predisposing cause of it is a vitiated state of the
humours \ for it is generally observed to be most pre¬
valent in an unhealthy season, and among women of a
weakly and Scorbutic constitution. But from its pre*
valence in some particular hospitals, while others in the
same city are entirely free from it, there can be little
doubt that it is often communicated by contagion from
one fentale to another. This opinion is corroborated
also by many other circumstances } particularly by the
means by which it has been removed from hospitals.
It would seem, however, that this contagion does not
act on the female system without a certain predisposition,
and that this predisposition is induced by those changes
to which the female habit is subjected in consequence of
delivery.
Within these few years this fever has been treated
of by several writers, most of whom have differed from
each other in their sentiments of the nature of the dis¬
ease. The first in the order of publication is Dr
Denman., who seems to be of opinion, that it may do
I N E. 4&3
rive its origin either from a redundancy or too great Puerperal
acrimony of the bile, the secretion of which appears Fever,
to be much interrupted in the time of gestation. In v '
Dr Manning’s treatise on this fever, he mentions its
being highly probable that such a cause contributes
greatly to produce the disease, especially where the
putrid tendency of the humours is increased by un¬
wholesome air and diet.
It has likewise been the fate of the puerperal fever,
that no disease has more divided the sentiments of phy¬
sicians in regard to the method of cure. The appa¬
rent indications and contra-indications of bleeding,
and other remedies, arising from the complication of
inflammatory and putrid symptoms ; the equivocal ap¬
pearance of the vomiting and purging, as whether
they be critical or symptomatical y and the different
causes whence symptoms similar to each other may
arise in pregnant women ; all these circumstances con¬
cur to involve the subject in great obscurity and inde¬
cision. If we carefully attend to the several charac¬
teristics of the disease, however, so as to be able to di ¬
stinguish it from every other puerperal complaint, and
observe at the same time the usual manner of its de¬
clension, our judgment may be guided in the method
of cure by the salutary efforts of nature. But, in
order to obtain a clearer view of the genuine indica¬
tions, it will be proper to consider them under the se¬
veral lights in which they have been generally agitated
by authors.
One of the most essential points to be ascertained in
the cure of the childbed fever, respects the pro¬
priety of bleeding. A free use of the lancet has been
generally regarded as the most successful expedient
in practice ; and there are some instances of critical
haemorrhages which would seem to confirm its utili¬
ty. But Dr Denman thinks we may safely affirm
from experience, that for one who will be benefited by
large bleeding, a much greater number will be inju¬
red, and that even almost irretrievably Nor can this
seem surprising, when wre consider the situation of
childbed women. In most, the evacuations conse¬
quent upon delivery are sufficient to diminish any un¬
due superabundance of the fluids $ and if, as frequent¬
ly happens, the disease be produced by too hasty a se¬
paration of the placenta, the consequence of which is
generally a very copious discharge of blood, we can
never suppose that nature will be assisted in overcoming
the febrile commotion, by the farther evacuation' of
the vital fluid, through the defect of which she is now
rendered unequal even to the ordinary support of the
animal ceconomy. We may appeal to every practical
physician, how much he has known the pulse to sink,
and what a train of nervous symptoms he has observed
to succeed an excess of the discharge above mentioned.
Besides, it is an axiom in physic, that a remedy which
cures any disorder, will always prove sufficient to jire-
vent itand therefore, if bleeding were the proper cuie
in the childbed fever, the disease ought to have been
prevented by a large'evacuation of blood, when that
happened previous to its attack. Experience, how¬
ever, in this, as in all other diseases, is the only uner-
ring’guide we can follow ; and whoever regulates his
practice by fact and observation, will be convinced that
bleeding, especially in a large quantity, is, in general,
very far from being attended with success. Bleeding
in-'
4^4 ^ ^ ^ ^
Puerperal is seldom proper, except in women of plethoric consti-
F< ver tutions, and in whom the signs of inflammation rise
1 Nor even in such patients ought it to be re¬
peated without great caution, and the existence oi
strong indications. Bleeding, when used in proper cir¬
cumstances, mav unquestionably palliate the fever j but
that it often shortens the duration of it, appears to be
a matter of much doubt. On this account the prac¬
tice becomes still more suspicious and exceptionable,
when we consider that by venesection improperly used
the patient’s strength may be so far reduced as not to
support the tedious looseness by which the disease is
generally carried oft. Though bleeding, however,
ought in general to be used with great caution, there
are certainly many cases in which it is both necessary
and advantageous.
The genuine nature and eftects of the looseness in
this disease, is another controverted point of the high¬
est importance, and which merits the most attentive in-
quirv. Physicians, observing that women who die of
the puerperal fever are generally molested with that
evacuation, have been induced to consider this symp¬
tom as of the most dangerous and fatal tendency •, and
what, therefore, we should endeavour by every means
to restrain. In this opinion, however, they would
seem to have been governed by too partial an obser¬
vation of facts. For experience certainly authorises the
assertion, that more ■women appear to have recovered
of the childbed fever, through the intervention of a
diarrhoea, than have been destroyed by that cause. If
it also be considered, that purging is usually almost the
only sensible evacuation in the more advanced state of
the disease, and is that which accompanies it to its la¬
test period, we shall have the strongest reason to think
that it is critical rather than symptomatical, and ought
therefore to be moderately supported, instead of being
unwarily restrained Nay, the advantage which is
found to attend vomiting as well as purging in the
earlier stages of the disease, would seem to evince that
the matter discharged by these evacuations is what
chiefly foments the disease. Emetics and purgatives,
therefore, in the opinion of Dr Manning, are the only
medicines on which any rational dependence is to be
placed in this fever j at least, they are. certainly such
as are found the most successful. It is an established
rule in practice, to prescribe a vomit at the beginning
- of every fever attended with any nausea or loathing of
the stomach, and where there is not any reason to ap¬
prehend an inflammation of that organ. Nor does the
state of childbed women afford the smallest ground for
prohibiting our recom-se to the same expedient in an¬
swering a similar indication.
It is so seldom a physician is called during the ri¬
gor preceding the puerperal fever, that he has few op¬
portunities of trying the effects of remedies in that ear¬
ly state of the disease. When such occur, however,
we should endeavour as much as possible to abate and
shorten that period, as the succeeding fever is general-
> ly found to bear a proportion to the violence and du¬
ration of it. For this purpose, warm diluting drinks
should be plentifully used, with a small quantity of vo¬
latile spirits or brandy. When Dr Manning appre¬
hended such an accident, he sometimes ordered the
nurse to give immediately a dish or two of warm sack-
ivliey 5 taking care that it was not too strong, which
1
C I N E. Append! j.
is a caution that ought always to be remembered j for pucrp,L
though a free use of the more cordial and spirituous FeJ
kinds of liquors might perhaps soon abate the rigor,' r J
there is danger to be feared from their influence on the
approaching fever, especially in women of a strong and
healthy consitution. In all cases, warm applications
to the extremities, such as heated bricks, towels, or
toasted grains in a linen bag, may be used with perfect
safety, and some advantage.
When the hot fit is advanced, the first thing Dr
Manning orders is some emollient injection, as chicken-
water, or water and milk, which ought to be frequent¬
ly repeated through the course of the disease. These
prove beneficial, not only by promoting the discharge
from the intestines, which seems in fact to be the so¬
lution of the disease j but also by acting as a kindly
fomentation to the uterus and adjacent parts. With
this intention they are particularly serviceable when
the lochia are suppressed. Great care, however, is
requisite in administering them, on account of the ten¬
derness and inflammatory disposition, which at that
time render the parts in the pelvis extremely susceptible
of pain.
The next step in the method of cure ought to be
to promote the discharge of the morbid matter both by
the stomach and intestines. This intention may be an¬
swered by a remedy prescribed by Dr Denman——Tw©
grains of tartrite of antimony rubbed up "with a scruple
of the powder of lapilli canerarum.
Of a powder thus prepared, Dr Denman gives from
tw7o to six grains, and repeats it as circumstances re¬
quire. If the first dose do not procure any sensible
operation, he repeats it in an increased quantity at the
end of tivo hours, and proceeds in that manner \ not
expecting any benefit but from its sensible evacuation.
Should the disease be abated, but not removed,
(which sometimes happens), by the effect of the first
dose, the same medicine must be repeated, but in a less
quantity, till all danger be over. But if any alarming
symptoms remain, he does not hesitate one moment to
repeat the powder, in the same quantity as first given 5
though this be seldom necessary, if the first dose ope¬
rates properly.
It is to be observed, says Dr Denman, that as the
certainty of cure depends upon the proper repetition
of the medicine, the method of giving it at stated
hours does not appear eligible. If the first dose pro¬
duce any considerable effect by vomiting, procuring
stools, or plentifully sweating, a repetition of the me¬
dicine in a less quantity will seldom fail to answer our
expectations •, but great judgment is required in adapt¬
ing the quantity first given to the strength of the pa¬
tient and other circumstances. We are not to expect
that a disease which from the first formation carries so
evident marks of danger, should instantly cease, even
though a great part of the cause be removed.
Frequent doses of the saline draughts ought also to
be given, which not only promote the evacuation by
the instestines, but likewise increase the salutary dis¬
charges of urine and perspiration. These medicines
are particularly serviceable in subduing the remains of
the fever, after its violence has been broken by the
more efficacious remedies above mentioned ; but when
they are used even in the decline of the disease, gentle
laxatives of rhubarb and magnesia, as advised by Dr
Denman,
A icndix. M EDI
Pu era] Denman, ought io be frequently interposetl, since, as
1 er. he justly observes, without stools wre can do little ser-
— vice.
Although the discharge by the intestines appears to
have the most salutary effect in this disease ; yet when
the stomach has not been properly unloaded of offen¬
sive matter, though a great nausea and sickness had in¬
dicated the expediency of such an evacuation at the
beginning of the fever, the continuance of the loose¬
ness is sometimes so long protracted as in the end to
prove fatal. In this alarming state of the disease,
when the stools are very frequent and involuntary,
and all appearances threaten danger, Mr Denman says,
that a clyster of chicken-water injected every one, two,
or three hours, or as often as possible without fatiguing
the patient too much, with a cordial diaphoretic draught
taken every six hours, has produced better effects than
could be expected.
While these medicines are employed, we should en¬
deavour to mitigate the pains of the holly by relaxing
applications. During the course of the disease, the pa¬
tient ought to drink freely of diluting liquors, and ab¬
stain from every thing of a heating quality, unless great
faintness should indicate the use of a small quantity of
some cordial medicine.
Such is the practice recommended in this disease by
Dr Denman. We shall now take a cursory view of the
sentiments of succeeding writers on this subject.
According to Dr Hulme, the proximate cause of
the puerperal fever is an inflammation of the intestines
and omentum j for the confirmation of which opinion
he appeals to dissections. He supposes the chief pre¬
disponent cause of the disease to be the pressure of the
gravid uterus against the parts above mentioned. The
omentum, says he, in the latter stage of pregnancy,
must either be flat, which is its natural situation, or be
rumpled or carried up by the gravid uterus in folds or
doublings. When the latter is the case, which he ob-
sei'ves is probably not seldom, the danger of a strangu¬
lated circulation will he greater.
Mr White, who has also written on this disease, ju¬
diciously remarks, that -were Dr Hulme’s hypothesis
well founded, the disorder ought rather to take place
before delivery, and be immediately removed at that
period: That it would likewise most generally happen
to women at their first labour, when the abdominal
muscles are less yielding, and the pains more violent;
the contrary of which is most frequently experienced to
be the case.
It also deserves to be remarked, that, upon Dr
Hulme’s supposition, we cannot account for the dis¬
ease being moi'e common and fatal in large towns and
m hospitals, than in the country and private practice,
while other inflammatory disorders are more endemic
among those who live in the latter than the former si¬
tuation. Even admitting the friction of the intestines
and omentum against the uterus to be as violent as Dr
Hulme supposes, is it not highly improbable, that any
inflammation could be occasioned by the pressure of
*>uch soft substances upon each other ? Or, were this
effect really produced, ought not the puerperal fever to
be more common and fatal after the most laborious de-
iiveries ? But this obsei’vation is not supported by ex¬
perience.
Dr Hulme, in favour of his own hypothesis, alleges
Vol. XIII. Part II. ' f
c I N E. 463
that it gives a satisfactory answer to the question, Puerperal
“ ^ by all lying-in women have been, and ever will Fever,
be, subject to this disease ?” In this proposition, how- ' v 1
ever, the doctor supposes such an universality of the
disease as is not confirmed by observation, "it is af¬
firmed upon undoubted authority, that in many parts
ot Britain the puerperal fever is hardly known ; where¬
as, were it really produced by the causes he assigns, it
would be equally general and unavoidable.
But bow peculiar soever this author’s sentiments
are in respect of the proximate cause of this disease,
they have not led him to any method of cure different '
from the established practice. On this subject Dr
Hulme divides his observations into two parts; compre¬
hending under the former the more simple method of
treatment, and under the latter the more complex. He
sets out with remarking, that the patient being gene¬
rally costive at the beginning of the disease, an emol¬
lient opening clyster will often give immediate relief;
but if this should not prove effectual, recourse must be
had to cathartics. Those which he found answer his
purpose best, were the sal catharticus a mar as, the oleum
ricini, emetic tartar, and antimonial wine. When the
bowels have been sufficiently cleared and the pain a-
bates, he advises encouraging a gentle diaphoresis by
medicines which neither bind the body nor are heat¬
ing ; such as small doses of ipecacuan, emetic tartar,
and antimonial wine, combined with an opiate in a
moderate dose, and given once or twice in the course
of 24 hours; administering the saline draughts in the
intermediate spaces. If, preceding or during this
course, a sickness at stomach or vomiting attend, he
advises assisting the efforts of nature, by drinking plen¬
tifully of chamomile tea, warm water, or any other di¬
luting liquor. He concludes with recommending a
cooling regimen, rest of body, and tranquillity of mind ;
prohibiting all kinds of bandage upon the abdomen,
and enjoining particular attention to the state of the
bowels, which ought to be kept gently open for some
time, even after the disorder seems to be gone off, till
the patient be quite out of danger.
So much for the simple treatment: we now proceed
to the second part, where be describes the method of
practice when the disease is in its more irregular and
complicated state.
When a diarrhoea accompanies the disease, he ob¬
serves that it ought by no means to be checked, but
supported, by ordering the patient to drink plentiful¬
ly of mild aperient liquors. If the pain of the hypo¬
gastric region be attended with stitches in the sides or
over the pit of the stomach, and a pulse that resists
the finger pretty strongly, he remarks that bleeding
would then be highly necessary : declaring, however,
his opinion, that, in the puerperal fever, bleeding is
to be considered only as a secondary means of relief,
though the first in point of time ; and it ought to be
advised with great caution; and that the greatest de¬
pendence is always to be placed upon evacuations by
stool.
Mr White imputes the puerperal fever to a putres¬
cent disposition of the humours, contracted during preg-
nany, and fomented by the hot regimen commonly
used by women in childbed. In conformity to this
opinion, the chief means which he recommends for pre¬
venting the disease is a cool regimen and free circula-
3 N tion
466 M E D I
Puerperal ticoi of air, which he evinces to he of the greatest im-
Fever. portance. In respect of bleeding, he informs us, that,
y—j upon the strictest inquiry, he cannot fmd that those who
have bled the most copiously have had the greatest suc¬
cess, either in private or hospital practice. He even
seems to question the propriety of this evacuation in any
ease 5 but approves of emetics, cathartics, and clysters,
for cleansing the primes vice, and likewise of such me¬
dicines and diet as will correct the putrid humours ; add¬
ing, that an upright posture and free ventilation are at
all times useful, and absolutely necessary, both for the
prevention and cure of the disease.
Another writer who treats of the childbed fever is
Dr Leake, who has published the result of his observa¬
tions on this disease from April 1768 to the autumn of
the year 17705 hut chiefly from December 176910
May 1770, during which period the childbed fever
prevailed much about London.
Dr Leake tells us that this fever generally commen¬
ced the evening of the second or morning of the third
day after delivery, with a rigor or shivering fit. Some¬
times it invaded soon after delivery 5 and at other times
though rarely, it has seized so late as the fifth or sixth
day. Now and then it seemed to he occasioned by
catching cold, or by errors in diet 5 but oftener by an¬
xiety ®f mind. Sometimes the thirst was great 5 though
the tongue had, in general, a better appearance at the
beginning than is common in other fevers. It was sel¬
dom ever black or very foul: but, as the disease advan¬
ced, became white and dry, with an increase of thirst 5
and at last was of a brownish colour towards the root,
where it was slightly covered with an inspissated mu¬
cus. The loss of strength was so great and sudden,
that few of the patients could turn in bed without as¬
sistance, even so early as the first or second day after
the attack. The lochia, from first to last, were not
obstructed, nor deficient in quantity 5 neither did the
quality of this discharge seem to be in the least alter¬
ed from its natural state 5 a presumption, says the au¬
thor, that the uterus was not at all affected. Of this
he was convinced by making a considerable pressure
above the pubes with the hand, which did not occa¬
sion pain 5 but when the same degree of pressure was
applied higher, between the stomach and umbilical re¬
gion, it became almost intolerable. A perfect crisis
seldom if ever happened in this fever, which he imputes
to the great oppression of the vital powers, whereby
they were rendered unable to produce such an event.
When the disease proved mortal, the patient general¬
ly died on the 10th or nth day from the first attack.
In those who died of the fever, the omentum was found
suppurated ; an inflammation of which part, or of the
intestines, Dr Leake concludes to be the proximate
cause of the disease.
In consequence of this idea of the cause of the dis¬
ease, Dr Leake affirms that venesection is the only re¬
medy which can give the patient a chance for life. But,
though it be the principal resource to be depended
upon at the beginning of the fever, he observes that
it will seldom prove of service after the second or third
day 5 and if directed yet later, will only weaken and
exhaust the patient 5 when, matter having begun to
form in the omentum, the progress of the disease can
no longer be prevented by that evacuation. At this
period the blood begins to be tainted by the absorption
CINE. Append.
of the purulent fluid.; and the fever, from being inflam- puer
matory, is changed into a putrid nature.
After bleeding in such a quantity as the symptoms '—“V 1
require, he advises that the corrupted bile be evacua¬
ted and corrected as soon as possible ; that the diar¬
rhoea, when excessive, be restrained by emollient ano¬
dyne clysters and gentle sudorifics, or even by opiates
and mild astringents, when the patient’s strength be¬
gins to sink under the discharge ; and, lastly, that
where the signs of the putrefaction or intermission take
place, antiseptics and the cinchona may be admini¬
stered.
The great uniformity of the symptoms in all Dr
Leake’s patients might authorise an opinion, that the
fever which he describes was in a great measure a dis¬
ease sui generis, and depended much upon the consti¬
tution of the air preceding and during the period in
which the fever prevailed.
Dr Kirkland has also made judicious observations on
this subject. He rejects the opinion that the puerpe¬
ral fever is a disease sui generis, and arises always from
the same cause. The particular situation of childbed
women, he acknowledges, occasions a similarity^ in the
appearance of all the febrile symptoms : but he af¬
firms that the same kind of fever may be produced by
various causes; for instance, by an inflammation of the
uterus or abdomen, by putrid blood or other matter,
and putrid miasms. The symptoms, he observes, will
vary according to the time of seizure. If the fever
happen in three or four days after delivery, all the
symptoms usual to the situation of the patient will
make their appearance ; but if it do not invade till
the milk has been secreted, and the lochial discharge be
nearly finished, the symptoms, if the breasts are proper¬
ly drawn, will, for the most part, be those only which
are common to that kind of disorder by which the fe¬
ver has been produced.
W ith respect to the cure of puerperal fevers, Dr Kirk¬
land advises the antiphlogistic method when they arise
from inflammation ; but when this method fails of suc¬
cess, and a diarrhoea supervenes, the disease has changed
its nature, having become more or less putr id, and re¬
quires a very different treatment.
His observations relative to the management of the
diarrhoea merit attention. No one, says he, would
purge and bleed to cure the colliquative fever arising
from the absorption of matter in large wounds ; and yet
the only difterence is, that in the puerperal fever the
matter absorbed from the uterus, &c. acts with more
violence, because the blood is commonly thinner and
the habit in a more irritable state. We see, continues
he, that absorbed matter purges as effectually as if any
purging medicine had been given by the mouth ; and
may we not therefore do harm by additional purging,
when there has been a large evacuation, especially as
purges in this case are incapable of entirely removing
the /ewes morbid
He considers cinchona as the principal remedy, as
soon as the pulse sinks, the heat is lessened, and the
stomach will bear it. If this increase the diarrl)tea be¬
yond moderation, he joins with it small doses of lauda¬
num ; but if the diarrhoea should entirely stop without
the fever going oft, in place of laudanum he advises a
proper quantity of rhubarb. Should the diarrhoea, not¬
withstanding the use of the medicines proposed, be-
conle
)endix. M E D I
)erai come so violent as to endanger the patient, he agrees
er. with Mr White in recommending the columbo root,
'■“-'which is a warm cordial, and removes the irritability
of the stomach and intestines more powerfully than any
other bitter he knows.
Of th is disease also, as it appeared in Derbyshire and
some of the adjacent provinces, an account has been
published by Dr Butter. Concerning tbe causes and
nature of the disease, he observes, that pregnancy
seems to add much to the natural sensibility of the fe¬
male constitution j because at this period women are
often subject to a train of nervous symptoms, which ne¬
ver molest them at other times. During gestation like¬
wise, the appetite is for the most part keen, while the
digestion appears to be impaired j and this weakness is
increased not only by improper food, of which the wo¬
man is frequently desirous, but also by the inactivity at¬
tending her situation. To these circumstances, it is
added, that the intestinal passage being interrupted by
the utex’ine pressure, costiveness generally prevails.
From the several observations here enumerated, Dr
Butter concludes, that the proximate cause of the puer¬
peral fever is a spasmodic affection of the fix-st passages,
with a morbid accumulation in their cavity $ and upon
this supposition he endeavours to account for the vari¬
ous symptoms of the disease.
In treating of the method of cure, he lays down
two indications ; the former of which is to promote
two, three, or four stools daily, in a manner suited
to the strength of the patient, till such time as they
resume a natural appearance. The second indication is
to relieve all uneasy symptoms, such as heat, thirst,
lieadach, &c.
With respect to the opinion entertained by Dr But¬
ter of the cause of the puerperal fever, it nearly coin¬
cides with that of Mr White. But however plausible
it may appear, we are not entirely satisfied that a dis¬
ease attended with so peculiar symptoms as the puer¬
peral fever can depend principally upon An irritability,
which is not restricted either to the pregnant or puer¬
peral state.
The late Dr Thomas Young professor of midwifery
in the university of Edinburgh, although he published
nothing on the subject of the puerperal fever, wrote
a very ingenious dissertation respecting it, which was
read in the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh. In
that dissertation, after giving a very accurate account
of the symptoms of the disease, which coincides very
nearly with the account given by others, he endea¬
vours to show, that the puerperalfever, strictly so called,
is in every instance the consequence of contagion j hut
he contends, that the contagious matter of this disease
is capable only of producing its effect, in consequence
of a peculiar predisposition given by delivery and its
consequences. In support of this doctrine, he re¬
marks, that for many years the disease was altogether
unknown in the lying-in ward of the Royal Infirmary
at Edinburgh •, hut that after it was once accidentally
introduced into the hospital, almost every woman was in
a short time after delivery attacked with it; although
prior to delivery, she may have lain, even for weeks
together, not only in the same ward with the infected,
hut even in the very next bed. Fie remarks, that it
tvas only eradicated from the hospital in consequence of
the wards being entirely emptied, thoroughly venti-
C I N E.
lated, and new painted. After these processes, piier- \y(
peral females in the hospital remained as free from  
this disease as formerly. The puerperal fever, accord¬
ing to Dr Young, has very generally a Strong ten¬
dency to the typhoid type j although he allows, that
in the beginning it is not unfrequently attended with
inflammatory symptoms, and even with topical inflam¬
mation, particularly in the intestinal canal. On this
idea, he considers the puerperal fever as admitting of
the same variety of treatment with other affections
depending on contagion, in which sometimes an in¬
flammatory, sometimes a putrescent tendency, prevails;
such, for example, as smallpox or erysipelas. But
from the prevailing putrescent tendency in this affec¬
tion, he considers the free access of cool air, with the
liberal use of antiseptics, as being very generally requi¬
site.
It deserves to be remarked, that though the several
writers who treat of this subject have conducted their
method of cure conformably to their particular idea of
the cause of the disease, respecting which their senti¬
ments are very different, they seem to have been equally
successful in the treatment of their patients. Indeed
the several writers differ less from each other in their
method of cure than might he expected, where so great
an opposition of theoretical sentiment prevails. For
after endeavouring to establish indications correspon¬
dent to their particular systems, those who contend for
the expediency of promoting the intestinal discharge,
dissuade not from having recourse to phlebotomy when
the disease is attended with inflammatory symptoms;
while, on the other hand, the most strenuous advocates
for bleeding admit the utility of the former evacuation.
It appears, therefore, that a due regulation of the alvinc
discharge is necessary through the whole course of the
fever, but venesection only sometimes.
WORMS. 4o
Those infesting the human body are chiefly of three
kinds : the ascarides, or small round and short white
worms; the teres, or round and long worm; and the
tcenia, or tape-worm.
The ascarides have usually their scat in the rectum.—
The teretes or lumbrici are about a span long, round and
smooth: they are seated for the most part in the upper
small intestines ; but sometimes they are lodged also in
the stomach, and in any part of the intestines, even to
the rectum.—The tape-worms are from two to forty 407
feet long, according to the testimony of Platerus ; they
generally possess the whole tract ol the intestines, but
especially the ileum : they very much resembe a tape
in their appearance, whence the name of tape-worm:
but another species of this genus, from the resem¬
blance of each joint to a gourd seed, has the name of
the gourd-worm.
In the Medical Transactions, vol. i. Dr Heberden
gives a very accurate account of the symptoms pio-
duced by the ascarides, from an eminent physician who
was troubled with them all his life. I hey brought on
an uneasiness in the rectum, and an almost intolerable
itching in the anus ; which sensations most usually
came on in the evening, and prevented sleep for several
hours. They were attended with heat, sometimes so
considerable as to produce a swelling in the rectum
3 N 2 both
MEDICINE.
both internally and externally j and if these symptoms
J were not soon relieved, a tenesmus was brought on,
with a mucous dejection. Sometimes there was a grip¬
ing pain in the lower part of the abdomen, a little
above the os pubis. It this pain was very severe, a
bloody mucus followed, in which there were often
found ascarides alive. They rvere also sometimes sus¬
pected of occasioning disturbed sleep, and some degree
of headach.
On th is case Dr Heberden observes, that the gene¬
ral health of the patient did not seem to have suffered
from tlie long continuance of the disease, nor the im¬
mediate inconveniences of the disorder itself to have
increased. “ It is (says he) perhaps universally true,
that this kind of worms, though as difficult to lie cu¬
red as any, yet is the least dangerous of all. They
have been known to accompany a person through the
'whole of a long life, without any reason to suspect
that they had hastened its end. As in this ease there
was no remarkable sickness, indigestion, giddiness, pain
of the stomach, nor itching of the nose, possibly these
symptoms, where they have happened to be joined with
the ascarides, did not properly belong to them, but
arose from some other causes. There is indeed no one
sign of these worms, but what in some patients will
he wanting.”
The above-mentioned patient used purging and irri¬
tating clysters with very little success." One dram
and a half of tobacco was infused m six ounces of
boiling water j and the strained liquor being given as
a clyster; occasioned a violent pain in the lower part
of. the abdomen, with faintness and a cold sweat:
this injection, though retained only one minute, acted
as a smart purge, but did little or no good. Lime-
water was also used as a clyster ; which brought on a
costiveness, but had no good effect. Six grains of
salt of steel were dissolved in six ounces of water, and
injected. Ibis clyster in a few minutes occasioned an
aching in the rectum, griped a little without purging,
and excited a tenesmus. Some few ascarides were
brought oft with it j but all of them were alive. The
uneasy sensation in the rectum did not abate till some
warm milk was thrown up. Whenever the tenesmus
or mucous stools were thought worth the taking no-
tice of, warm milk and oil generally gave immediate
relief, if purging was necessary, the lenient purges
such as manna with oil, were, in this particular case’
made use of: rhubarb was found too stimulating.—
Eut, in general, the most useful purge, and which
therefore was most usually taken, was cinnabar and
rhubarb, of each half a drachm : this powder seldom
failed to bring away a mucus as transparent as the
white of an egg, and in this many ascarides were
moving about. The cinnabar frequently adhered to
tins mucus, which did not come off in large quanti
ties, when a purge was taken without cinnabar. Calo
mel did no more than any other purge which operates
briskly would have done ; that is, it brought away as¬
carides, with a great deal of mucus. Oil given as a
myster sometimes brought oft” these animalcules : the oil
stvam on the surface of the mucus, and the ascarides were
k n^ .r'Tr “ tl“' mueus itSelf’ wl,kh probably
A* r“m ram,"g “ C0",mt with them and
Or ileberdcn also obsertes, that mucus or slime is
Appent s,
the proper nest of the ascarides, in which they live, yyo,
and is perhaps the food by which they are nourished ; 4
and it is this mucus which preserves them unhurt,
though surrounded with many other liquors, the im¬
mediate touch of which would be fatal. It is hard to
satisfy ourselves by what instinct they find it out in
the human body, and by what means they get at it;
hut it is observable in many other parts of nature, as
well as here, that where there is a fit soil for the
hatching and growth of animals and vegetables, na¬
ture has taken sufficient care that their seeds should
find the way thither. Worms are said to have been
found in the intestines of still-horn infants. Purges,
by lessening this slime, never fail to relieve the pa¬
tient : and it is not unlikely, that the worms which
are not forced away by this quickened motion of the
intestines, may, for want of a proper quantity of itr
languish, and at last die \ for if the ascarides are taken
out of their mucus, and exposed to the open air, they
become motionless, and apparently die in a very short
time. Dr Heberden supposes that the kind of purge
made use of is of some consequence in the cure of all
other worms as well as ascarides ; the animals being
always defended by the mucus from the immediate
action of medicines 5 and that therefore those purges
are the best which act briskly, and of which a repe¬
tition can be most easily borne. Purging waters are
of this sort, and jalap especially for children ; two oi:
more grains of which, mixed with sugar, are most easi¬
ly taken, and may be repeated daily.
From Dr Heherden’s observations, we may easily see
why it is so difficult to destroy these animals $ and why
anthelmintics, greatly celebrated for some kinds, are
yet so far from being specifics in the disease. As the
worms which reside in the cavities of the human body
are never exposed to the air, by which all living crea¬
tures are invigorated, it is evident, that in themselves
they' must be the most tender and easily destructible
creatures imaginable, and much less will be requisite to
kill them than any of our common insects. The
most pernicious substances to any of the common in¬
sects are oil, caustic fixed alkali, lime, and lime-water.
I he oil operates upon them by shutting up the pores
of their bodies ; the lime, lime-water, and caustic al¬
kali, by dissolving their very substance. In the case
of intestinal worms, however, the oil can have very
little effect upon them, as they are defended from it
by the moisture and mucus of the intestines ; the like
happens with lime-water : and therefore it is necessary
that the medicine should be of such a nature as to
destroy both mucus and insects together j for which
purpose the caustic fixed alkali is at once safe and ef¬
ficacious ; nor is it probable that anv case of worms
whatever could resist the proper use of this medicine.
A very large dose of any salt indeed will also destroy
the mucus and destroy the worms j but it is apt to
inflame and excoriate the stomach and intestines, and
thus to produce worse distempers than that which it
was intended to cure. Dr Heberden gives the fol¬
lowing remarkable case of a patient cured of worms
by enormous doses of common salt, after trying many
other remedies in vain. In February 1757, the pa¬
tient was seized with uncommon pains in his stomach,
attended with nausea, vomiting, and constipation of
bowels, and an almost total loss of sleep and appetite:
He
jendix. M E D I
ro,s He soon became much emaciated, and could neither
stand nor walk upright; his belly grew small and
hard, and closely retracted, insomuch that the sternum
covered the navel, and the latter could scarce he dis¬
covered or felt by the finger : his urine was always
milky, and soon deposited a thick white sediment ; his
excrements were very hard and lumpy, resembling
those of sheep, only of a brown colour ; nor had he
ever a stool without some medicine or other to pro¬
cure it. In this situation he continued four years j
during which time he had been in an infirmary, at¬
tended by eminent physicians, but was dismissed as in¬
curable. At last he was advised by a neighbour to
drink salt and water, as he said he knew one cured
by it who had for many years been afflicted with the
same kind of pains in the belly and stomach. As his
distemper was now almost insupportable, he w illingly
tried the experiment. Two pounds of common salt
were dissolved in as little water as possible, all which
he drank in less than an hour. Soon afterwards he
found himself greatly oppressed at the. stomach, gi-evv
extremely sick, and vomited violently •, on the fourth
straining he brought up about half a pint of small
worms, part ascarides, and the rest resembling those
worms which are called the botts, and frequently met
with in the stomach of horses, but much smaller, and
about the size of a grain of wheat. The salt soon
began to operate downwards, and he had five or six
very copious fetid stools, tinged with blood ; and in
them discharged near an equal quantity of the same
kind of worms he had vomited, Being greatly fa¬
tigued with the violence of the operations, he fell into
a calm sleep, which lasted two hours, during which
he sweated profusely, and awoke much refreshed.
Instead of his usual pains, he now only complained of
a rawness and soreness of bis gullet, stomach, and
bowels, with an almost unquenchable thirst j to allay
which, he drank large quantities of cold water, whey,
butter-milk, or whatever he could get. The urine he
now passed was small in quantity, and rendered with
very great difficulty, being highly saturated with the
salt, from whence arose a most troublesome dysuria
and strangury. However these symptoms gradually
abated by a free use of the liquors above mentioned ;
and on the third morning he was so well recovered,
that he took two pounds more of salt, dissolved in the
like quantity of water. The effects were nearly simi¬
lar to the former j only that most of the worms were
now burst, and came away with a considerable quan¬
tity of slime and mucus. The drought, strangury, &c.
returned with their former violence, but soon yielded
to the old treatment. He sweated very copiously for
three days, slept easily, and by that time could ex¬
tend his body freely : on the fifth day he left his bed,
and, though very weak, could Avalk upright } his
strength and appetite soon returned, and he became
robust and well.
The anthelmintic medicines which have been recom¬
mended by one person or other, are in a manner innu¬
merable 5 but the principal are,
l. Quicksilver. This is very efficacious against all
kinds of worms, either taken in the form of calomel
or corrosive sublimate. Even the crude metal boiled in
water, and the water drunk, has been recommended as
an almost certain cure. But this, it is evident, can
CINE.
receive no impregnation from the mercury. If, there¬
fore, it have any effect, it must he from some foreign
and accidental impregnation. In most instances there
can be no objection to mercury, but only that it is
not endowed with any attenuating quality whereby
the mucus in which these insects reside can lie dis¬
solved. It therefore fails in many cases, though it
will most certainly destroy worms where it can get at
them.
2. Poiuder of tin. This was for some time cele¬
brated as a specific, and indeed we may reasonablv
expect good effects from it 5 as by its weight and
grittiness it rubs oft' the mucus and worms it contains
from the coats of the intestinal canal, in which case they
are easily evacuated by purgatives. In order to pro¬
duce any considerable cftects, it must be given in a large
dose.
3. Geoffrcea inermis, or cabbage bark. This remedy
is used by the inhabitants of Jamaica. The first account
of it which appeared in this country was published in
the Physical and Literary Essays, vol. ii. by Mr Duguid
surgeon in that island. He acquaints us, that the in¬
habitants of Jamaica, young and old, white and black,
are much infested with worms, especially the long
round sort ; the reason of which, he thinks, is the quan¬
tity of sweet viscid vegetables which they eat. On dis¬
secting a child of seven months old, who died of vomi¬
ting and convulsions, twelve large worms were found 5
one of them filled the appendix vermiformis, and three
of them were entwisted in such a manner as to block
up the valvula Tulpii, so that nothing could pass from
the small to the great guts.—The cabbage hark, how¬
ever, he tells us, is a safe and effectual remedy, and
the most powerful vermifuge yet known } and that it
it frequently brings away as many worms by stool as
would fill a large hat. He owns that it has sometimes
violent effects 5 but this he ascribes to the negroes who
make the decoction (in which form the bark is used)
too strong, and not to the remedy itself.
Mr Anderson, surgeon in Edinburgh, has also given
an account of this bark and its operation, in a letter
to Hr Duncan, published in the Edinburgh Medi¬
cal Commentaries, volume iv. p. 84. From this ac¬
count it appears, that there are two different kinds
of cabbage hark j the one much paler than the other:
the pale kind operates much more violently than the
other. It often occasions loose stools, great nausea, and
such like symptoms, attended with great uneasiness
in the belly : in one or two instances it was sus¬
pected of inducing syncope. The daxker coloured
kind resembles the cassia lignea, though it is of a
much coarser texture. This kind, Mr Anderson
thinks, may be exhibited in any case where an an¬
thelmintic is necessary j the dangerous symptoms might
have followed either from the use of the first kind, or
from an over-dose of the second. The usual method of
preparing the medicine is by boiling two ounces and a
half of the bark in two quarts of water to a pint and a
]ialf. Of this a tea-spoonful may be given at first in
the morning, gradually increasing the quantity till we
come to four or five table-spoonfuls in a day. hen
exhibited in this manner, Mr Anderson informs us,
that he never saw it produce any violent symptoms,
and has experienced the best effects from it as an an¬
thelmintic. After the use of this decoction for eight
or
/
+7°
Worms, ot nine mornings successively, a dose of jalap with
—-v~—' calomel must be given, which seldom fails to bring
aw'ay the worms, some dead, some alive. If at any
time the decoction produce more than one or two
loose stools, a few drops of liquid laudanum may be
given } and, in general, Mr Anderson gave 15 or 20
drops of the spirit of lavender with each dose.
In a letter from Dr Rush, professor of chemistry at
Philadelphia, to Dr Duncan of Edinburgh, the follow¬
ing account is given of another preparation of this me¬
dicine. “ It has long (says he) been a complaint
among physicians, that wre have no vermifuge medicine
which can be depended upon. Even calomel fails in
many cases where there are the most pathognomonic
signs of worms in the bowels. But this complaint, it is
hoped, is now at an end. The physicians of Jamaica
have lately found, that the cabbage-bark, as it is called
in the West Indies, made into a syrup with brown su¬
gar, is an infallible antidote to them. I have used
above 30 pounds of it, and have never found it fail in
one instance. The syrup is pleasant; it sometimes
pukes, and always purges, the first or second time it
is given.”
The most accurate botanical description of the geof*
frcea inermis, or the tree furnishing the worm bark, as
it has often been called, is that which was published
some years ago in the Philosophical Transactions by
Dr \Vright, formerly physician at Jamaica, now of
Edinburgh, who also highly extolls this remedy as an
anthelmintic.
Notwithstanding these encomiums, however, the cab¬
bage bark has not come into general use in Britain.
But diseases from teretes, or Iwnbriei as they are
often called, the species of worm against which this
hark is employed, much less frequently occur in Bri¬
tain than in some other countries. When they do oc¬
cur, in almost every instance they readily yield to more
gentle and safe anthelmintics; and the worms may not
only be expelled by calomel, but by the vegetable bit¬
ters ; as the powder of the artemisia santonica, or the
tike.
4. Couhage, or cow-itch. This is the JDoliciios urens
■or pn/riens of Linnseus ; and the principles on which
it acts have been already explained under the ar¬
ticle Dolichos. It is somewhat similar to the pow¬
der of tin, but bids fair for being more efficacious.
It might at first appear to occur as objections to this
medicine, that by the hairs of it entangling themselves
with one another, calculi might be formed in the in¬
testines, or obstructions equally bad; or if the sharp
points or hooks with which it abounds were to ad¬
here to the nervous coats of the intestines themselves
they might occasion a fatal irritation, which could not
be removed by any means whatever. But from the
experience of those who have employed it extensively
in practice, it would appear that these objections are
entnely theoietical . and that it may be employed with
perfect safety. The spicule, gently scraped off from a
single pod, and mixed with syrup or melasses, are taken
for a dose in the morning fasting. This dose is repeat¬
ed in this manner for two or three days without any
•sensible operation j but even a very slight purgative
taken afterwards has been found to discharge an almost
incredible quantity of worms. And according to Dr
Bancroft, who has given a, very particular account of
Append
its use in his Natural History of Guiana, it is one of Worn
the safest and most certain anthelmintics yet discovered-,y.
but as well as the bark of the Geoffrcea, it has hither¬
to been very little used in Britain, probably from its
not being necessaiy. -
5. Indian pink. This plant, which is the Spigelia
marilandica of Linnams, is also an American plant,
and was first recommended in the Edinburgh Physical
and Literary Essays by Dr Garden of Charlestown in
South Carolina. He is of opinion that a vomit ought
always to precede the use of it ; and informs us,that half
a dram of it purges as briskly as the same quantity of
rhubarb. At other times he has known it produce
no effect on the belly though given in very large
quantity: In such cases it becomes necessary to add a
grain or two of sweet mercury, or some grains of rhu¬
barb j but then it is less efficacious than when it proves
purgative without addition. The use of it, however,
in small doses, is by no means safe j as it frequentlv
produces giddiness, dimness of sight, convulsions, &c.
The addition of a purgative, indeed, prevents these ef¬
fects } but at the same time, as already observed, it di¬
minishes the virtue of the medicine. The doctor there¬
fore recommends large doses, as from them he never
knew any other effect than the medicine’s proving eme¬
tic or violently cathartic. The dose is from 12 to 60
or 7° grains of the root in substance, or two, three, or
four drams of the infusion, twice a-day. This medicine
has also had its day, and is now very far from being-
considered as a specific.
The long round worms seem to be the most dan¬
gerous which infest the human body, as they often
pierce through the stomach and intestines, and thus
bring on a miserable death. The common symptoms of
them are nausea, vomiting, looseness, fainting, slender
intermitting pulse, itching of the nose, and epileptic
fits. By the consumption of the chyle they produce
hunger, paleness, weakness, costiveness, tumor of the
abdomen, eructations, and rumbling of the intestines;
but it is from the perforation of tfie intestines that
the disease proves so frequently fatal. A child may
be known to have worms from his cold temperament,
paleness of the countenance, livid eyelids, hollow eyes,
itching of the nose, voracity, startings, and grinding
ot the teeth, in sleep j and more especially by a very
fetid breath. Very frequently, however, they are void¬
ed by the mouth and anus, in which case there is no
room for doubt. In the Medical Commentaries, vol.ii.
we have an account of the intestines being perforated
by a worm, and yet the patient recovered. The pa¬
tient wTas a woman troubled with an inflammation in
the lower part of the abdomen. The pain was so vio¬
lent, that for six days she slept none at all 5 the tumor
then broke, discharged upwards of a pound of thin wa¬
tery sanies, immediately after which the excrements
followed. 1 he next day she was extremely low \ her pulse
could scarcely be felt j the extremities were cold } and
there was a considerable discharge from the wound,
which had already begun to mortify. She got a de¬
coction of cinchona with wine, which alleviated the
symptoms j but in removing the mortified parts a worm
was found among them six inches long, and as thick
as an eagle’s quill. By proper applications, the dis¬
charge ot excrements ceased, and she recovered perfect
health. She was sensible of no accident giving rise to
MEDICINE.
lendix. MEDICINE
ms the inflammation ; so that in all probability it arose en-
i tirely from the worm itself.
The taniia, or tape-worm as it is called, is one of
those most difficult to be removed from the human bodv.
It is of two kinds, tcrnia solium and ta-nia lata ; for
a description of which see the article T^inia.—The
reason of its being so difficult to cure is, that though
portions of it are apt to break off and be discharged,
it is endowed with a power of reproduction, so that
the patient is little or nothing better. The symptoms
occasioned by it are not different from those above
described. A specific against the tcenia lata has been
lately so much celebrated in France, that the king
thought proper to purchase it from the proprietor
(Madame Nouffer), and the account of it has been
translated into English by Dr Simmons. The patients
are required to observe no particular regimen till the
day before they take the specific. That day they are
to take nothing after dinner till about 7 o’clock ; after
which, they are to take the following soup: “ Take
a pint and a half of water, two or three ounces of
good fresh butter, and two ounces of bread cut into
thin slices : add to this salt enough to season it, and
then boil it to the consistence of panada.” About a
quarter of an hour after this, they take a biscuit and a
glass of white wine, either pure or mixed with water j
or even water alone, if they have not been accustomed
to wine. If the patient has not been to stool that day,
(which, however, is not usual with patients in this
w'ay), the following clyster is to be injected. “ Take
a small quantity of the leaves of mallows, and boil them
in a sufficient quantity of water, mixing with it a little
salt, and when strained oft’ add two ounces of olive
oil.” Next morning, about eight or nine hours after
the supper above mentioned, the specific is to be taken.
This is no other than two or three drams of the root
of male fern, polypodium jilix mas of Linnaeus, gathered
in autumn, and reduced to fine powder. It is to be
taken in any distilled water, or in common water. This
medicine is apt to occasion a nausea: to avoid which,
Madame Nouffer allows her patients to chew any thing
that is agreeable, but forbids any thing to be swallow¬
ed \ or they may smell to vinegar, to check the sick¬
ness : but if, notwithstanding this, the specific be thrown
up, a fresh dose must be swallowed as soon as the sick¬
ness is gone oft*, and then they must try to sleep. About
two hours after this the following bolus is to be taken.
“ Take of the panacea of mercury 14 times sublimed,
and select resin of scammony, each ten grains j of fresh
and good gamboge, six or seven grains : reduce each of
these substances separately into powder, and then mix
them with some conserve into a bolus.” This composi¬
tion is to be swallowed at two difierent times, washing
it down with one or two dishes of weak green-tea, after
which the patient must walk about his chamber. M hen
the bolus begins to operate, he is to take a dish of the
same tea occasionally, until the worm be expelled ;
then, and not before, Madame Nouffer gives him broth
or soup, and he is directed to dine as is usual after tak¬
ing physic. After dinner he may either lie down or
walk out, taking care to conduct himself discreetly*
to eat but little supper, and to avoid, every thing that
is not of easy digestion.
The cure then is complete j but it is not always ef¬
fected with the same quickness in every subject. He
who has not kept down the whole bolus, of who is not
sufficiently purged by it, ought to take, four hours af¬
ter it, from two to eight drams of Epsom salt dissolved
in boiling water. The dose of this salt may be varied
according to the temperament and other circumstances
of the patient,
If the worm should not come away in a bundle, but
in the form ol a thread (which particularly happens
when the worm is involved in much tenacious mucus),
the patient must continue to sit upon the close-stool
without attempting to draw it away, drinking at the
same time warm weak tea : sometimes this alone is not
sufficient, and the patient is obliged to take another
dose of purging salt, but without varying his position,
till the worm be wholly expelled.
It is unusual for patients who have kept down both
the specific and purging dose, not to discharge the
worm before dinner-time. This, however, sometimes
happens when the dead worm remains in large bundles
in the intestines, so that the faxes becoming more
limpid towards the end of the purging, pass by it
without drawing it with them. The patient may in
this case eat his dinner j and it has been observed, that
the food, joined to the use of a clyster, has brought
about the expulsion of the worm.
Sometimes the worm is brought away by the action
of the specific alone, before the patient has taken the
purging bolus : when this happens, Madame Nouffer
gives only two-thirds of it, or substitutes the salt in its
stead.
Patients must not be alarmed by any sensation of
heat or uneasiness they may feel during the action of
the remedy, either before or after a copious evacua¬
tion, or just as they are about to void the worm. These
sensations are transitory, and go oft* spontaneously, or
by the assistance of the vapour of vinegar drawn in afc
the nose.
They who have vomited both the specific and bolus,
or who have kept down only a part of them, some¬
times do not void the worm that day. Madame Nouf-'
fer therefore directs them to take again that night the'
soup, the wine and biscuit 5 and it circumstances re¬
quire it, the clyster. If the worm do not come away
during the night, she gives them early the next morning
another dose c-f the specific, and, two hours afterwards,,
six drams or an ounce of purging salt, repeating the
whole process of the preceding day; excepting the
bolus, which she suppresses.
She observes, that very hot weather diminishes in
some degree the action of her remedy; she therefore
prefers the month of September for administering it j
but as she has not been always able to choose the sea¬
son, and has been sometimes obliged to undertake the
cure of patients in the hottest days ol summer, she
then gave her specific very early in the morning ^
and with this precaution she saw no difterence in its.
effects. _ ,
On the day appointed for the trial of this medicine
before the commissioners nominated by the king of
France, it was exhibited to five different persons 5 but
only one of them was certainly known to have the twuia
lata by having discharged parts of it before. I hat
person was cured j the second voided a potion of the
tcenia solium the third some ascundcs^ with a pait of
the tcenia solium i the fourth an d filth voided no worms ;
M E D I
but tlie last consideml n'iUcli cftlie viscid slime he void¬
ed to be worms in a dissolved state.
This trial was thought sufficient to ascertain the ef¬
ficacy of the medicine, and further trials were made
by those to whom the secret wras communicated. The
first voided twro taenia, after much vomiting and 18 or
20 stools 5 the second had no vomiting, hut was as vio ¬
lently purged, and discharged two worms •, the third
had 20 copious stools during the night, and discharged
the worm in the morning j and the fifth was affected
in much the same manner. Some others who were not
relieved, were supposed not to have a taenia.
This specific, however, is not to be considered as a
newr discovery •, the efficacy of fern in cases of tsenia
having been known long ago. Theophrastus prescribes
its root, in doses of four drams, given in water sweeten¬
ed with honey, as useful in expelling flat worms.—
Dioscorides orders it in the same dose, and adds, that
its effects are more certain when it is mixed with four
oboli (40 grains) of scarnmony or black hellebore J he
particularly requires that garlic should be taken before
hand. Pliny, Galen, Oribasius, and Aetius, ascribe
this same virtue to fern j and are followed in this by
Avicenna, and the other Arabian physicians. Dor-
stenius, Valerius Cordus, Dodonaeus, Mathiolus, Da-
lechampius, who commented on Dioscorides, or copied
him in many things, all mention the fern-root as a spe¬
cific against the taenia. Sennertus, and Burnet after
him, recommended in similar cases an infusion of this
plant, or a dram of its powder, for young persons, and
three drams for adults. Simon Paulus, quoted by Bay
and Gcoflroy, considers it as tbe most efficacious of all
poisons against the flat wTorm, and as being the basis of
all the secret remedies extolled by empirics in that
disease, Andry prefers distilled fern-water to the root
in powder, or he employs it only in the form of an opiate,
or mixed with other substances.
.These are not the only authors ivlio have mentioned
the taenia j many others have described this worm,
the symptoms it excites, and the treatment proper to
expel it. Almost all ot them mention the fern-root,
but at the same time they point out other remedies as
possessing equal efficacy. Amongst these we find the
bark of tbe root of the mulberry-tree, the juice of tbe
auricula munis^ the roots of chamaelcon niger, gin¬
ger, zedoary j decoctions of mugwort, southernwood,
wormwood, penny-royal, origanum, hyssop, and in ge¬
neral all bitter and aromatic plants, &c. Some, of
them diiect the specific to be simply mixed and taken
in wine or honey and water: others join to it the use
of some purgative remedy, which they say adds to its
efficacy. Oribasius, Sylvius, &c. distinguish the spe¬
cific that kills the worm, from the purgative that eva¬
cuates it, and direct them to be given at different
times. Sennertus gives a very satisfactory reason for
adopting this method. If we give, says he, the pur¬
gative medicine and the specific at the same time, the
tatter will he hastily carried off before it can have ex¬
erted its powers on the worm : whereas, if we give
the specific first, and thus weaken the worm, it will
collect itself into a bundle, and, being brought away
by means of tbo purge, the patient wilf be cured. The
cure will be more speedy if the primer vice have been
previously lubricated. These precautions are all of
■ Iem essential to the success of the remedy, nor are
C I N E. Append
they neglected by Madame Nouner ih her method of \yorr
treatment. The panada and injection she prescribes the '"—■v
night before, to lubricate the intestines, and prepare
the primer vice. The fern root, taken in the morning,
kills and detaches the worm } of this the patients are
sensible by the cessation of tbe pain in the stomach,
and by the weight that is felt in the lower belly,
The purgative bolus administered two hours after this,
procures a complete evacuation ; it is composed of sub¬
stances that are at once purgative and vermifuge, and
which, even when administered alone, by difl’erent
physicians, sometimes succeeded in expelling the worm.
If this purgative appear to he too strong, the reader is
desired to recollect, that it produced no ill effects in
either of the cases that came under the observation of
the physicians appointed to make the trials ; and that
in one of those cases, by diminishing the dose, they
Evidently retarded the evacuations.—Regard however,
they observe, is to be had both to the age and the
temperament of the patient j and the treatment should
always be directed by a prudent and experienced phy¬
sician, Avho may know how to vary the proportions of
the dose as circumstances may requix-e. If the purga¬
tive be not of sufficient strength, the worm, alter be¬
ing detached by the specific, remains too long a time
in the intestines, and becoming soon corrupted, is
brought away only in detached portions : on tlxe other
band, if the pui-gative be too strong, it occasions too
much irritation, and evacuations that cannot fail to be
inconvenient.
Madame Nouffer’s long experience has taught hex*
to distinguish all these circumstances with singular
adroitness.
This method of cure is, as wc have seen, copied in
a great measure from the ancients: it may be possible
to produce the same effects by vai-ying the remedies j
hut the manner of applying them is by no means in-
diflei’ent: we shall be always more certain of success
il the intestines be previously evacuated, and if the
specific be given some time before tlxe purgative bolus.
It is to this method that Madame iSlouffer’s constant
success is attributed.
Her remedy has likewise some power over the ternia
solium ; but as the wings ol this worm sepai'ate from
each other more easily than those of the tevnia lata, it
is almost impossible for it to be expelled entire. It
will be necessary therefoi’e to repeat the treatment se¬
veral times, till the patient cease to void any portions
oi worms. It must likewise he repeated, if, alter the
expulsion ol one ternia solium, another should be gene¬
rated in the intestinal canal. This last case is so rare,
that it has been supposed that no pei*son can have
more than one ot these worms ; and for this reason it
has been named solitary worm, which, being once re¬
moved, could never be renewed or replaced by a se¬
cond : hut experience has proved, that this notion is
an ill-founded prejudice j and w?e know that sometimes
tnese worms succeed each other, and that sometimes
sevei’al of them exist together. Two living taeniae have
frequently been expelled from the same patient. Dr
De Haen relates an instance of a woman who voided
18 taeniae at once. In these eases the symptoms axe
usually more alarming ; and the appetite becomes exces¬
sive, because these worms derive all their nourishment
irem the chyle. II too austere and ill-judged a regimen
deprives
tlix. M £ D I
deprives them of this, they may be expected to attack
even the membranes of the intestines themselves. This
evil is to be avoided by eating frequently.
Such are the precautions indicated in this disease.
The ordinary vermifuge remedies commonly procured
only a palliative cure, perhaps because they were too
often improperly administered. But the efficacy of
the present remedy, in the opinion of the French phy¬
sicians, seems to be sufficiently confirmed by experi¬
ence. To the above account, however, it seems proper
to subjoin the following observations by Dr Simmons.
“A Swiss physician, of the name of Herrensc/iwand,
more than 20 years ago, acquired no little celebrity
bv distributing a composition of which he styled him¬
self the inventor, and which was probably of the same
nature as Madame Nouffer’s. Several very eminent
men, as Tronchin, Hovius, Bonnet, Cramer, and
others, have written concerning the effects of this re¬
medy. It seems that Dr Herreuschwand used to give
a powder by way of preparation, the night before he
administered his specific. Nothing could be said with
certainty concerning the composition either of one or
the other. The treatment was said sometimes to pro¬
duce most violent effects, and to leave the patients in
a valetudinary state. Dr De Haen was dissuaded by
his friends from using it, because it disordered the pa¬
tients too much. It will be readily conceived, now
that we are acquainted with Madame Nouffer’s method,
that these effects were occasioned wholly by the pur¬
gative bolus. It is not strange, that resin of scam-
mony or jalap, combined with mercurius dulcis and
gamboge, ail of them in strong doses, should in many
subjects occasion the greatest disorders. It seems like¬
ly, however, that much of the success of the remedy
depends on the use of a drastic purge. Some of the
ancients who were acquainted with the virtues of the
fern root, observed that its efficacy was increased by
scammony. Resinous purges, especially when com¬
bined with mercury, have often been given with suc¬
cess in cases of teenia. Dr De Haen saw a worm of
this sort five ells long expelled by the resin of jalap
alone. Dr Gaubius knew a women who had taken a
variety of anthelmintic remedies without any effect,
though she had voided a portion of tcenia an ell and
a half long previous to the use of these medicines : but
at length, after taking a purge of singular strength,
she voided the worm entire. Many other instances of
the same kind are to be met with in authors. Other
remedies have occasionally been given with success.
In Sweden, it has been a practice to drink several
gallons of cold water, and then to take some drastic
purge. Boerhaave says, that he himself saw a teenia
measuring 300 ells expelled from a Russian by means
of the sulphate of iron.
From some late accounts, there is reason to believe
that Dr Herrenschwand’s remedy for tcenia does not so
exactly agree with that of Madame Nouffer as Dr Sim¬
mons seems to imagine. According to the account
given us by a gentleman who had his information from
Dr Herrenschwand himself, it consists entirely of gam¬
boge and fixed vegetable alkali.
0/POISONS.
Of many poisons we have already treated, but there
ai’e some of which nothing has hitherto been said. A-
Vol. XIII. Part II. t
C 1 N E.
mong the most fatal of these are the bites and stings of
serpents, scorpions, &c. According to Dr Mead, the
symptoms which follow the bite of a viper are, an acute
pain in the place wrounded, with a swelling, at first red,
but afterwards livid, which by degrees spreads farther
to the neighbouring prats 5 with great faintness, and a
quick, low, and sometimes interrupted pulse; great sick¬
ness at stomach, with bilious convulsive vomitings, cold
sweats, and sometimes pains about the navel. Frequent-
ly a sanious liquor runs from the small wound, and little
pustules are raised about it : the colour of the whole
skin in less than an hour is changed yellow, as if the
patient had the jaundice. These symptoms are very fre¬
quently followed by death, especially if the climate be
hot, and the. animal of a large size. This is not, how¬
ever, the case with all kinds of serpents. Some, we are
assured, kill by a fatal sleep ; others are said to produce
an universal haemorrhage and dissolution of the blood ;
and others an unquenchable thirst. But of all the
species of serpents hitherto known, there is none whose
bite is more expeditiously fatal than that of the rattle¬
snake. Dr Mead tells ns, that the bite of a large ser¬
pent of this kind killed a dog in a quarter of a minute;
and to the human species they are almost equally fatal.
Of this serpent it is said, that the bite makes the per¬
son’s skin become spotted all over like the skin of the
serpent; and that it has such a motion as if there were
innumerable living serpents below it. But this is pro¬
bably nothing morei than a dissolution of the blood, by
which tlje skin becomes spotted as in petechial fevers
at the same time that the muscles may be convulsed as
in the distemper called hieranosos, which was former¬
ly thought to he the effect of evil spirits : but it is even
not improbable that observers have been somewhat aid¬
ed by fancy and superstition when they thought that
they detected such appearances.
It has justly appeared surprising to philosophers, how
such an inconsiderable quantity ol matter as the poison
emitted by a viper at the time of biting should produce
such violent ellects. But all inquiries into this matter
must necessarily he uncertain ; neither can they contri¬
bute anything towards the cure. It is certain that the
poison produces a gangrenous disposition ol the part it¬
self, and likewise seemingly of the rest ol the body ;
anil that the original quantity ol poison continues some
time before it exerts all its power on the patient, as it
is known that removing part of the poisonous matter
by suction will alleviate the symptoms. rihe indica¬
tions of cure then are three : 1. To remove the poison¬
ous matter from the body : Or, 2. If this cannot be
done, to change its destructive nature by some powerful
and penetrating application to the wound : And, 3; j 0
counteract the effects ol that portion already received
'into the system.
The poisonous matter can only be removed from
the body by sucking the wound either by the mouth,
or by means of a cupping glass; but. the foimer is
probably the more efficacious, as the saliva will in some
measure dilute and perhaps obtund the poison. Dr
Mead directs the person who sucks the wound to hold
warm oil in his mouth, to prevent inflammation of the
lips and tongue: hut as bites ol this kind are most
likely'to happen in the fields, and at a distance from
houses, the want of oil ought by no means to retard
the operation, as the delay of a few minutes might
3 O prove
474-
Poisons, prove of the most Altai consequence 3 and it appears
‘ v——' from Dr Mead’s experiments, that the taking the
* poison of a viper into the mouth undiluted, is attended
•with no worse consequences than that of raising a slight
inflammation. A quick excision of the part might also
he of very great service.
The only way of answering the second indication is,
by destroying the poisoned part by a red-hot iron, or
the application of alkaline salts, which have the power
of immediately altering the texture of all animal sub¬
stances to which they are applied, provided they are not
covered by the skin 3 and as long as the poison is not
totally absorbed into the system, these must certainly be
of use.
To answer the third indication, Dr Mead recommends
a vomit of ipecacuanha, encouraged in the working with
oil and warm water. The good effects of this, he says,
are owing to the shake which it gives to the nerves,
whereby the irregular spasms into wdiich their whole
system might be dx-awn are prevented. After this the
jiatient must go to bed, and a swreat must be procured
by cordial medicines 3 by which the remaining effects
of the poison will be carried oft’.
It has been confidently asserted by many, that the
American Indians are possessed of some specific remedy
by which they can easily cure the bite of a rattlesnake.
Dut Mr Catesby, who must have had many opportuni¬
ties of knowing this, positively denies that they have
any such medicines They make applications indeed,
and sometimes the patient recovers 3 but these recove¬
ries he ascribes to the strength of nature overcoming
the poison, more than 'to the remedies made use of.
He says, they are very acute in their prognostics whe¬
ther a person that is bit wall die or not 3 &nd when
they happen to receive a bite in certain parts of the
body, when the teeth of the animal enter a large vein,
for instance, they quietly resign themselves to their
iate, without attempting any thing for their own re¬
lief. Indeed, so violent and quick is the operation of
this poison, that unless the antidote be instantly ap¬
plied, the person will die before he can get to a house.
It would seem therefore eligible for those who are in
danger of such bites, to carry along with them some
strong alkaline ley, or dry alkaline salt, or both,
which could be instantly clapt on the wound, and by.
its dissolving power would destroy both the poison
and the infected parts. Strong cordials also, such as
ardent spirits, volatile alkali, &c. might possibly ex¬
cite the languid powers of nature, and enable her to
expel the enemy, which would otherwise prove too
powerful. This seems to be somewhat confirmed from
the account we have in the Philosophical Transactions
of a gentleman bit by a rattlesnake, who was more
relieved by a poultice of vinegar and vine-ashes put to
his wound than any thing else. The vine-ashes being
of an alkaline nature, must have saturated the vinemar
so that no part of the cure could, be attributed to
it: on the other hand, the ashes themselves could not
have been saturated by the small quantity of acid ne¬
cessary to form them into a poultice ; of consequence
they must have operated by their alkaline quality  
Soap ley, therefore, or very strong salt of tartar, may
reasonably be thought to be the best external applica¬
tion, not only for the bites of vipers, but of every
Append,
venomous creature 3 and in fact w'e find dry salt uni- j)isea
versally recommended both in the bites of serpents and Child! 1
of mad dogs. Dr Mead recommends the fat of vipers “v j
immediately rubbed into the wound 3 but owns that it
is not safe to trust to this remedy alone.
Some years ago the volatile alkali was strongly re¬
commended by M. Sage of the French academy, as a
powerful remedy against the bite of a viper: and,
by a letter from a gentleman in Bengal to Dr Wright,
it would appear that this article, under the form of the
eau cle luce, which is very little if any tiling different
from the spiritus ammonite succinatus of the London
Pharmacopoeia, has been employed with very great
success against this affection in the East Indies: but
from the trials made with it by the abbe Fontana, pub¬
lished in his Treatise on the Poison of the Viper, it
would appear that it by no means answered his expecta¬
tion 3 and the efficacy of this, as well as of the snake
pills mentioned under the article Hydrophobia, still
requires to be confirmed by further experience.
MELiENE. 40,
This is a distemper not very common, but it has
been observed by the ancient physicians, and is de¬
scribed by Hippocrates under the name of moi'bus
mger. It shows itself by a vomiting and purging of
black tar-like matter, which Hippocrates, Boerhaave,
and Van Swieten, supposed to be occasioned by atra
bilis. But Dr Home, in his Clinical Experiments, en¬
deavours to shew that it is owing to an effusion of blood
from the meseraic vessels, which, by its stagnation and
corruption, assumes that strange appearance. The
disease, he says, frequently follows haemorrhage 5 and
those of a scorbutic habit are most subject to it. It
is an acute disease, and terminates soon 3 yet it is not
attended with any great degree of fever. In one of
Dr Home’s patients the crisis happened on the eighth
day by diarrhoea 3 in another, on the 14th, by sweat and
urine 3 and a third had no evident critical evacuation.
As to the cure, Dr Home observes, that bleeding is
always necessary where the pulse can hear it 3 nor are
we to be deterred from it by a little weakness of the
pulse, more than in the enteritis. Emetics are hurtful,
but purgatives are useful. But the most powerful
medicine for checking this haemorrhage is the sulphuric
acid : and, that this might be given in greater quantity,
he mixed it with mucilage of gum arabic 3 by which
means he was enabled to give double the quantity he
could otherwise have done. The cold bath was tried
m one instance, but he could not determine whether it
was of any service or not. The cure was completed by
exercise and cinchona.
Of the DISEASES of CHILDREN. .I9
Dr Buchan observes, that from the annual registers
of the dead, it appears that about one half of the
children born in Great Britain die under twelve years
of age 3 and this very great mortality he attributes
in a great measure to wrong management. The par¬
ticulars of this wrong management enumerated by
him are,
1. Mothers not suckling their own children. This,
he owns, it is sometimes impossible for them to do 3
but -
MEDICI N E.
i ipendix. M E D I
[ ases of but where it can he done, he affirms that it ought
i Idren. never to he omitted. This, he says, would prevent the
-v ' unnatural custom of mothers leaving their own children
to suckle those of others ; on which he passes a most
severe censure, and indeed scarce any censure can he
severe enough upon such inhumanity. Dr Buchan in¬
forms us, “ He is sure he speaks within bounds,
when he says not one in an hundred of these children
live who are thus abandoned by their mothers.” For
this reason he adds, that no mother should be allowed
to suckle another’s child till her own be fit to be
weaned. A regulation of this kind would save many
lives among the poorer sort, and would do no harm
to the rich ; as most women who make good nurses are
able to suckle two children in succession upon the same
milk.
2. Another source of the diseases of children is the
unhealthiness of parents: and our author insists that
no person who labours under an incurable malady ought
to marry.
3. The manner of clothing children tends to pro¬
duce diseases. All that is necessary here, he says, is
to wrap the child in a soft loose coverings and the
softness of every part of the infant’s body sufficiently
shows the injury which must necessarily ensue by pur¬
suing a contrary method.
4. A new-born infant, instead of being treated with
syrups, oils, &c. ought to be allowed to suck the mo¬
ther’s milk almost as soon as it comes into the world.
He condemns the practice of giving wines and spiri¬
tuous liquors along with the food soon after birth j
and says, that if the mother or nurse has a sufficient
quantity of milk, the child will need little or no other
food before the third or fourth month. But to this it
may reasonably be objected, not only that the nursing
would thus be very severe on the mother 5 but if the
child be left thus long without other food, it will not
easily relish that food for some time, and its stomach is
apt to be easily hurt by a slight change of diet after it
has been long accustomed to one thing. The human
species are unquestionably fitted by nature for a mixed
aliment, both from the vegetable and animal kingdom.
And the analogy of other animals belonging to the
class of mammalia for whom milk is equally provided
at the earliest periods of life, would lead us to the con¬
clusion, that mixed aliment is well fitted for the human
species even in the earliest periods of infancy. The
lamb is no sooner dropt than, by natural instinct, it
crops the grass as well as it sucks its mother. And the
stomach in the human species, immediately after birth,
can digest other food as well as milk. Neither can it
be shown, that the strongest and most healthy infants are
those which get no other food but the mother’s milk
during the first months of their life. In fact, children
are evidently of a weak and lax habit ol body, so that
■many of their diseases must arise from that cause } all
directions which indiscriminately advise an antiphlo¬
gistic regimen for infants as soon as they come into
the world, must of necessity be wrong. Many instances
in fact might be brought to show, that by the prepo¬
sterous method of starving infants, and at the same
time treating them with vomits and purges, they are
often hurried out of the world. Animal food indeed,
-particularly under the form of broths, is excessively
-agreeable to children, and they ought to be indulged
CINE.
with it in moderation. This will prove a much better Dise
remedy tor those acidities with which children are of- Chi
ten troubled, than magnesia alba, crabs eyes, or other
absorbents, which have the most pernicious effects on
the stomachs of these tender creatures, and pall the ap¬
petite to a surprising degree. The natural appetites of
children are indeed the best rule by which we can judge
of what is proper or improper for them. They must no
doubt be regulated as to the quantity; but we may be
assured that what a child is very fond of will not hurt
it, if taken in moderation. When children are sick,
they refuse every thing but the breast; and if their dis¬
temper be very severe,, they will refuse it also, and in
this case they ought not to be pressed to take food of
any kind ; but when the sickness goes off, their appe¬
tite also returns, and they will require the usual quan¬
tity of food.
According to Dr Armstrong, inward fits, as they
are called, are in general the first complaint that ap¬
pears in children ; and as far as he has observed, most,
if not all infants, during the first months, are more or
less liable to them. The symptoms are these : The
child appears as if it was asleep, only the eyelids are
not quite closed j and if you observe them narrowly,
you will see the eyes frequently twinkle, with the white
of them turned up. There is a kind of tremulous mo¬
tion in the muscles of the face and lips, which pro¬
duces something like a simper or a smile, and sometimes
almost the appearance of a laugh. As the disorder
increases, the infant’s breath seems now and then to
stop for a little ; the nose becomes pinched ; there is a
pale circle about the eyes and mouth, which sometimes
changes to livid, and comes and goes by turns ; the
child starts, especially if you attempt to stir it though
ever so gently, or if you make any noise near it. Thus
disturbed, it sighs, or breaks wind, which gives relief
for a little j but presently it relapses into the dozing.
Sometimes it struggles hard before it can break wind,
and seems as if falling into convulsions ; but a violent
burst of wind from the stomach, or vomiting, or a loud
fit of crying, sets all to rights again. As the child
increases in strength, these fits are the more apt to go
off spontaneously and by degrees ; but in case they do
not, and if there is nothing done to remove them, they
either degenerate into an almost constant drowsiness,
(which is succeeded by a fever and the thrush), or else
they terminate in vomitings, sour, curdled, or green
stools, the watery gripes, and convulsions. I he thrush
indeed very often terminates in these last symptoms.
As these complaints naturally run into one another, or
succeed one another, they may he considered, in a man¬
ner, as only different stages of the same disease, and
which derive their origin from the same cause. I bus,
the inward fits may he looked upon as the first stage of
the disorder ; the fever, and thrush (when it happens),
as the second j the vomitings, sour, curdled, green
or watery stools, as the third 5 and convulsions as the
last.
As to the cause of these complaints, lie observes,
that in infants the glandular secretions, which aie all
more or less glutinous, are much moie copious than 111
adults. During the time of sucking, the glands of the
mouth and fauces being squeezed by the contraction
of the muscles, pour forth their contents plentifully j
which afterwards mixing with the mucus of the gullet
3 0 2 a,1(^
476
M E D I
Diseases of and stomacli, renders the milk of a slimy consistence, by
Children, which means it is not so readily absorbed into the lac-
v ' teals ; and as in most infants there is too great an aci¬
dity in the Stomach, the milk is thereby curdled, which
adds to the load ; hence sickness and spasms, which,
being communicated by sympathy to the nerves of the
gullet and fauces produce the convulsive motions above
described, which go commonly by the name of inwai'd
Jits. The air, likewise, which is drawn in during suc¬
tion mixing with the milk, &c. in the stomach, per¬
haps contributes towards increasing the spasms above
mentioned. Dr Armstrong is the more induced to
attribute these fits to the causes.nowassigned, that they
always appear immediately after sucking or feeding j
especially if the child has been long at the breast, or
fed heartily, and has been laid down to sleep without
having first broken wind. Another reason is, that
nothing relieves them so soon as belching or vomiting}
and the milk or food they throw up is generally either
curdled, or mixed with a large quantity of heavy
phlegm. If they be not relieved by belching or vomit¬
ing, the fits sometimes continue a good while, and gra¬
dually abate, according as the contents of the stomach
are pushed into the intestines } and as soon as the former
is pretty well emptied, the child is waked by hunger,
cries, and wants the breast } he sucks, and the same
process is repeated.—Thus, some children for the first
weeks are kept almost always in a doze, or seemingly
so*, especially if the nurses, either through laziness or
want of skill, do not take care to rouse them when
they perceive that it is not a right sleep, and keep them
awake at proper intervals'. This dozing is reckoned a
bad sign amongst experienced nurses ; who look upon
it as a forerunner of the thrush, as indeed it often is}
and therefore, when it happens, we ought to be upon
our guard to use the necessary precautions for prevent¬
ing that disorder.
I or these disorders, the only remedy recommended
by Dr Armstrong is antimonial wine, given in a few
drops according to the age of the infant. By this
means the superabundant mucus will no doubt be eva¬
cuated } but at the same time we must remember, that
this evacuation can only palliate, and not cui'e the dis¬
ease. i his can only be effected by tonics } and, when
from inwards fits and other symptoms it appears that the
tone of the stomach is very weak, a decoction of cin¬
chona, made into a syrup, will readily be taken by in¬
fants, and may be safely exhibited from the very day
they come into the world, or as soon as their bowels
are emptied of the meconium by the mother’s milk or
any other means.
Dr Clarke observes, that fractures of the limbs and
coriipressions of the brain, often happen in difficult la¬
bours } and that the latter are often followed by con¬
vulsions soon after delivery. In these cases, he says, it
will be advisable to let the navel-string bleed two or
tiiiee spoonfuls before it be tied. Thus the oppression
of the brain will be relieved, and the disagreeable con¬
sequences just mentioned will be prevented. But if
• nis has been neglected, and fits have actually come
on, we must endeavour to make a revulsion by all the
means in our power ; as by opening the jugular vein,
procuring an immediate discharge of the urine and me¬
conium, and applying small blisters to the back, legs,
or the c *rs. The semicupium, too, would seem
CINE. _ Append
to be useful in this case, by driving the oppressive load Disease
of fluids from the head and upper parts. Childi
It sometimes happens after a tedious labour, that the
child is so faint and weak as to discover little or no
signs of life. In such a case, after the usual cleansing,
the body should he immediately wrapped in warm flan¬
nel, and briskly tossed about in the nurse’s arms, in
order, if possible, to excite the languid circulation.
If this fail, the breast and temples may be rubbed with
brandy or other spirits} or the child may be provoked
to cry, by whipping, or other stimulating methods, as
the application of onion, or salt and spirit of hartshorn,
to the mouth and nostrils. But after all these expe¬
dients have been tried in vain, and the recovery of the
child absolutely despaired of, it has sometimes been
happily revived by introducing a short catheter or
blowpipe into the mouth, and gently blowing into
the lungs at diffei’ent intervals. Such children, how¬
ever, are apt to remain weak for a considerable time,
so that it is often no easy matter to rear them } and
therefore particular eare and temderness will be required
in their management, that nothing may be omitted
which can contribute either to their preservation or the
improvement of their strength and vigour.
All the disorders which arise from a retention of the
meconium, such as the red gum, may easily he removed
by the use of gentle laxatives } hut the great source of
mortality among children is the breeding of their teeth.
The usual symptoms produced by this are fretting}
restlessness } frequent and sudden startings, especially in
sleep } costiveness} and sometimes a violent diarrhoea,
fever, or convulsions. In general, those children breed
their teeth with the greatest ease, who have a moderate
laxity of the bowels, or a plentiful flow of saliva during
that time.
In mild cases, we need only, when necessary, endea¬
vour to promote the means by which nature is observed
to carry on the business of dentition in the easiest man¬
ner. For this purpose, if a eostiveness be threatened,
it must he prevented, and the body kept always gently
open } the gums should be relaxed by rubbing them
frequently with sweet oils, or other softening remedies
of that kind, which will greatly diminish the tension
and pain. At the same time, as children about this
period are generally disposed to chew whatever they get
into their hands, they ought never to be without some¬
thing that will yield a little to the pressure of their
gums, as a crust of bread, a wax candle, a hit of li¬
quorice root, or such like} for the repeated muscular
action, occasioned by the constant biting and gnawing
at.such a substance, will increase the discharge from the
salivary glands, while the gums will he so forcibly pres¬
sed against the advancing teeth, as to make them break
out much sooner, and with less uneasiness, than would
otherwise happen. Some likewise recommend a slice of
the rind of fresh bacon, as a proper masticatory for the
child, in order to bring moisture into its mouth, and
facilitate the eruption of the teeth by exercising tbe
gums. If these means, however, prove ineffectual, and
bad symptoms begin to appear, the patient will often
be relieved immediately by cutting tbe inflamed gum
down to the tooth, where a small white point shows
the latter to he coming forward. When the pulse is
quick, the skin hot and dry, and the child of a suffi¬
cient age and strength, emptying the vessels by bleed¬
ing,
icndix.
ffiner, especially at the jugular, will frequently be neces-
, n sary here, as well as in all other inflammatory cases ;
—ami the belly should be opened from time to time by
emollient, oily, or mucilaginous clysters. But, on the
contrary, if the child he low, sunk, and much weaken¬
ed, repeated doses of the spirit of hartshorn, and the
like reviving medicines, ought to be prescribed. Blis¬
ters applied to the back, or behind the ears, will often
be proper in both cases. A prudent administration of
opiates, when their use is not forbid by costiveness or
otherwise, is sometimes of great service in difficult
teething, as, by mitigating pain, they have a tendency
to prevent its bad effects, such as a fever, convulsions,
or other violent symptoms; and often they are absolutely
accessary, along with the testaceous powders, for check¬
ing an immoderate diarrhoea.
When cathartics are necessary, if the child seems too
tender and weak to bear their immediate operation,
they should be given to the nurse; in which case they
will communicate so much of their active powers to the
milk as will be sufficient to purge the infant. This at
least certainly holds with regard to some cathartics;
such, for example, as the infusion of senna, particular¬
ly if a very weak infusion be employed, and not used
to such an extent as to operate as a purgative to the
nurse.
As most young children, if in health, naturally sleep
much, and pretty soundly, we may always be apt to
suspect that something is amiss when they begin to he
subject to watching and frights; symptoms which sel¬
dom or never occur but either in consequence or some
present disorder not perceived, or as the certain fore¬
runners of an approaching indisposition. We should
immediately, therefore, endeavour to find out the cause
of watchfulness, that we may use every possible means
to remove or prevent it; otherwise the want of natural
rest, which is so very px-ejudicial to persons ol all ages,
xvill soon reduce the infant to a low and emaciated
state, which may be followed by a hectic fever, diar¬
rhoea, and all the other consequences of weakness.
These symptoms, being always the effects ol irritation
and pain, may proceed, in very young infants, from
crudities or other affections of the primee vice producing
flatulencies or gripes; about the sixth or seventh month,
they may be owing to that uneasiness which commonly
accompanies the breeding of the teeth ; and alter a
child is weaned, and begins to use a diffei'ent kind of
food, worms become frequently an additional cause of
watchings and disturbed sleep. Hence, to give the ne¬
cessary relief on these occasions, the original complaint
must first be ascertained from the child’s age and other
concomitant circumstances, and afterwards treated ac¬
cording to the nature of the case. Women and nurses
are too apt to have recourse to opiates in the watchings
ol children, especially when their own rest happens
to be much disturbed by their continual noise and cla¬
mour. But this practice is often prejudicial, and never
ought to have place when the belly is in the least ob¬
structed.
There is no complaint more frequent among children
than that of worms, the general symptoms of which
have been a! re ad v enumerated; but it must be observed,
that all the symptoms commonly attributed to worms,
may be produced by a foulness ot the bowels. Hence
practitioners ought never to rest satisfied with admini-
477
stering to their patients such medicines as arc possessed Diseases of
only ol an anthelmintic quality, hut to join them with Children^
those which are particularly adapted for cleansing the * J
pnmee vuv ; as it is uncertain whether a foulness of the
bowels may not be the cause of all the complaints. This
practice is still the more advisable, on account of viscid
humours in tfie intestines affording lodgement to the ova
of worms ; which, without the convenience of Such a
receptacle, would be more speedily discharged from the
body.
The difficulty of curing what is called a warm fever,
arises, according to Dr Musgrave, from its being fre¬
quently attributed to worms, when the cause of the
disorder is of a quite different nature. He does not
mean to deny that worms do sometimes abound in the
human body, nor that the irritation caused by them
does sometimes produce a fever ; but he apprehends
these eases to be much moi’e uncommon than is gene¬
rally imagined, and that great mischief is done by treat¬
ing some of the disorders of children as worm cases,
which are really not so. Hr Hunter is of the same
opinion on this point. He has, we are told, dissected
great numbers of children who have been supposed to
die of worm fevers, and whose complaints were of course
treated as proceeding from worms, in whom, however,
there appeared, upon dissection, to be not only no
worms, but evident proofs of the disorder’s having been
of a very different nature.
The spurious worm fever, as Dr Musgrave terms it,
has, in all the instances he has seen of it, arisen evi¬
dently from the children having been indulged with
too great quantities of fruit. Every sort ol fruit eaten
in excess will probably produce it; hut an immoderate
use of cherries seems to be the most common cause of it.
The approach of this disorder has a different appear¬
ance, according as it arises from a habit ol eating fruit
in rather too large quantities, or from an excessive
quantity eaten at one time. In the former case, the
patient gradually grows weak and languid : his colour
becomes pale and livid; his belly swells and grows
hard ; his appetite and digestion are destroyed ; bis
nights grow x’estless, or at least his sleep is much di-
sturbed with startings, and then the fever soon follows,
in the progress of which, the patient grows comatose,
and at times convulsed ; in which state, when it takes
place to a high degree, he often dies. Ihe pulse at
the wrist, though quick, is never strong or hard ; the
carotids, however, beat with great violence, and ele¬
vate the skin so as to be distinctly seen at a distance.
The heat is at times considerable, especially in the
trunk ; though at other times, when the brain is much
oppressed, it is little more than natural. It is some¬
times accompanied by a violent pain of the epigastric
region, though more commonly the pain is slighi, and
terminates in a coma ; some degree of pain, however,
seems to be inseparable from it, so as clearly to distin¬
guish this disorder from other comatose affections.
When a large quantity of fruit has been eaten at
once, the attack of the disorder is instantaneous, and
its progress rapid ; the patient often passing, m the
space of a few hours, from apparently perfect hea tb,
to a stupid, comatose, and almost dying state. Ihe
symptoms of the fever, when formed, are in both cases
nearly the same; except that, in this latter sort, a little
purulent matter is sometimes discharged, both by vo-
1 nnfc
MEDICINE.
478 ' M E D I
Biseases ofrnit and stool, from tlie very first day. The stools, in
Children, both cases, exhibit sometimes a kind of curd resembling
v ' curdled milk, at other times a floating substance is ob¬
served in them ; and sometimes a number of little threads
and pellicles, and now and then a single worm.
Strong purgatives, or purges frequently repeated, in
this disorder, are greatly condemned by Dr Armstrong,
as they in general not only aggravate the symptoms al¬
ready present, but are sometimes the origin of convul¬
sions. Bloodletting is not to be thought of in any stage
of tlie disorder.
Although frequent purging, however, be not recom¬
mended, yet a single vomit and purge are advised in
the beginning of the disorder, with a view to evacuate
such indigested matter and mucus as happens to remain
in the stomach and bowels. These having operated
properly, therfe is seldom occasion for repeating them 5
and it is sufficient, if the body be costive, to throw up,
every second or third day, a clyster, composed ef some
grains of aloes, dissolved in five or six ounces of infu¬
sion of chamomile.
The principal part of the cure, however, depends
upon external applications to the bowels and stomach j
and as the cause of the disorder is of a cold nature, the
applications must be warm, cordial, and invigorating ;
and their action must be promoted by constant actual
heat.
When any nervous symptoms come on, or remain af¬
ter the disorder is abated, they are easily removed by
giving a pill with a grain or two of asafeetida once or
twice a-day.
The diagnostics of worms are very uncertain; but,
even in real-worm cases, the treatment above recom¬
mended would, it is imagined, be much more effica¬
cious than the practice commonly had recourse to. As
worms either find the constitution weakly, or very soon
make it so, the frequent repetition of purges, particu¬
larly mercurials, cannot hut have a pernicious effect.
Bear s-foot is still more exceptionable, being in truth
to be ranked rather among poisons than medicines.
Worm seed and bitters are too offensive to the palate
and stomach to be long,persisted in, though sometimes
>-ery useful.. The pdwder of coralline creates disgust
by its quantity; and the infusion of pink root is well
known to occasion now and then vertiginous complaints
fomenting the belly night and morning with a
strong decoction of rue and wormwood, is much re¬
commended. It is a perfectly fafe remedy, and by
invigorating the bowels, may therefore have some’ in¬
fluence m rendering them capable of expelling such
worms as they happen to contain. After the fomenta¬
tion, it is advised to anoint the belly with a liniment
composed of one part of essential oil of. rue, and two
parts of a decoction of rue in sweet oil. It is, however
a matter of great doubt whether these external applica¬
tions, m consequence of the articles with which they
are impregnated, exert any influence on the worms
themselves.
The diet or children disposed to worms should
warm and nourishing, consisting in part at least of a
ma tood, which is not the worse for being a little s
t?,? , rhfir dTk ma7 be any bind of beer that
flopped, with now and then a small draught
CINE. Append,
porter or negus. A total abstinence from butter is ^
not so necessary, perhaps, as is generally imagined. Juris'
Poor cheese must by all means he avoided , but such den
as is rich and pungent, in a moderate quantity, is par- J
ticularly serviceable. In the spurious worm fever, the
patient should he supported occasionally by small quan-
ties of broth j and, at the close of it, when the appe¬
tite returns, the first food given should he of the kinds
above recommended.
The diet here recommended will, perhaps, be
thought extraordinary, as the general idea is at pre¬
sent, that, in the management of children, nothing
is so much to be avoided as repletion and rich food. It
is no doubt an error to feed children too well, or to
indulge them with wine and rich sauces 5 but it is
equally an error to confine them to too strict or too
poor a diet, which weakens their digestion, and ren¬
ders them much more subject to disorders of every
kind, but particularly to disorders of the bowels. In
regard to the spurious worm fever, if it he true that
acid fruits too plentifully eaten are the general cause
of it, it follows as a consequence, that a warm nutri¬
tious diet, moderately used, will most effectually coun¬
teract the mischief, and soonest restore the natural
powers of the stomach. Besides, if the disorder does
not readily yield to the methods here directed, as there
are many examples of its terminating by an inflamma¬
tion and suppuration of the navel, it is highly advise-
able to keep this probability in view, and, by a mode¬
rate allowance of animal food, to support those powers
of nature, trom which only such a happy crisis is to be
expected.
Besides these, many other diseases might here be
mentioned, which, if not peculiar to infants, are at least
peculiarly modified by the infant state. But into de¬
tails respecting these we cannot propose to enter. It
is sufficient to say, that due regard being paid to age
and constitution, the cure is to be conducted on the
same general principles as in the adult state.
MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE. A
During the progress of science in Europe this sub¬
ject has not been altogether neglected. But we may
safely venture to assert, that even from many enlighten¬
ed governments it has hitherto claimed much less at¬
tention than its importance merits. At the British
universities this has been too much the case. It is
indeed true, that for near 20 years a few lectures on
this subject have been delivered at the university of
Edinburgh, by the professor of the institutions of medi¬
cine. But he could by no means consider the subject
on that extensive scale which its importance merited.
And he had often expressed his regret, that, as in se¬
veral of the foreign universities, a professorship had not
been instituted for the express purpose of giving a course
of lectures on medical jurisprudence. That defect,
however, in medical education at Edinburgh is now
supplied. M hen that able and upright statesman Lord
Grenville, to whom every thing that regarded the laws
of his country was an object of peculiar attention, was
at the head of his majesty’s councils, a regius professor¬
ship of juridical and political medicine was established
in the university of Edinburgh by a royal warrant.
Af
11<
Jll!
dt
:ndix. M E D I
,al Ami there la every reason to hope, that the appoint-
ru- ment will be attended with many ellects highly benefi-
:■ cial to the nation.
A short view of the extent and importance of this
subject will, we presume, not be unacceptable to the in¬
telligent reader.
Whatever aid the science of medicine can contribute
towards the good ol the state, and the execution of its
laws, has been by the Germans denominated State Me¬
dicine ; a new, but not improper, appellation, for that
branch of knowledge which many writers have termed
Medical Jurisprudence.
It comprehends both medical police and juridical
medicine. The former consists of the medical precepts
which may be of use to the legislature or to the magi¬
stracy. The latter is the aggregate of all the informa¬
tion, afforded by the different branches of medicine,
which is necessary for elucidating doubtful questions in
courts of law.
Although there are some traces of juridical medicine
in the Justinian code ; such as determining the real pe¬
riod of birth, with a view to prevent the imposition of
spurious children : it properly originated with the code
of laws enacted by the emperor Charles V. under the
name of Constitutio criminalis Carolina; in whidh it is
ordained, that the opinions of physicians should be ta¬
ken, with regard to the danger of wounds, child-mur¬
der, murder, poisoning, procured abortion, concealed
pregnancy, &c. These directions, and the impossibili¬
ty which was found of determinating many questions
by simply legal means, induced some legislators to en¬
join, that all tribunals and judges should procure from
sworn physicians, appointed to this office, their opi¬
nions concerning all the subjects to be mentioned here¬
after.
Since that time, it has been treated systematically
by many learned men ; such as Fortunatus Fidelis,
Zacchias, Alberti, Hebenstreit, Haller, Ludwig, Plenck;
and lastly, in the most masterly manner, by Metzger.
Numberless dissertations have been written on all its
parts 5 and among those who contributed to its advance¬
ment, we may reckon Ambrose Parry, Bohn, Butener,
Morgagni, Camper, and Gruner. Collections of cases,
illustrating its principles, have been made by Amman,
Daniel, Bucholz, Pyl, Scherf and Metzger. These
are only a few of the principal writers who have at¬
tended to this science : to enumerate more would be
CINE.
his errors, and magnify his uncertainties, till his evi¬
dence seem contradictory and absurd ? How often must
he expose himself to such severe criticism, if he be not
master of the subject on which he is giving evidence, and
have not arranged his thoughts on it according to just
principles ? On the other hand, he may deserve and gain
much credit, by so public a display of judgment and
professional knowledge.
Some acquaintance with this part of medical science
must be useful at least, and sometimes necessary, to
judges and lawyers. They will thus be enabled to
estimate hoiv much they may depend on the opinion of
any physician, and will know haw to direct their que¬
stions, so as to arrive at the truth, and avoid being mist-
led by his partiality or favourite opinions. To the
lawyer who conducts the defence of an accused person,
in a criminal case, it is almost indispensable ; without
it, he cannot do justice to the cause of his client.
Before criminal courts, the questions which occur most
generally are, respecting
1. I he cause of death, as ascertained from the ex¬
amination of the body.
2. I he sufficiency of the supposed cause to have
produced death.
3* Probable event of wounds, contusions, &c.
4. The importance of the part injured.
5. Supposed child-murder j whether still-born or
not.
6. Whether death accidental or intended.
7. Abortion j its having occurred.
8. Spontaneously, from habit 5 accidentally, from
external violence or passions of the mind 5 or
intentionally, from the introduction of a sharp
instrument, use of certain drugs, &.c.
9. Rape j its being attempted or consummated 5
recent or previous defloration.
IO. The responsibility of the accused for his actions.
Before civil courts the questions generally regard,
1. The state of mind 5 madness, melancholy, idio-
tism.
2. Pregnancy; concealed, pretended.
3. Parturition 5 concealed, pretended, retarded, pre¬
mature.
4. The first-born of twins.
5. Diseases 5 concealed, pretendedj imputed. ,
6. Age and duration of life.
unnecessary.
from its very nature, it is evident how necessary a
knowledge of this science must be to every medical
practitioner, who is liable to be called upon to illustrate
any question comprehended under it before a court of
justice. On his answers, the fate of the accused person
must often depend ; both judge and jury regulating their
decision by his opinion. On the other hand, while he
is delivering his sentiments, his own reputation is before
the bar of the public. The acuteness of the gentlemen
of the law is universally acknowledged 5 the versatility of
their genius, and the quickness of their apprehension,
are rendered almost inconceivable, by constant exercise.
. 18 their duty to make every possible exertion for the
interest of their client, and they seldom leave unnoticed
any inaccurate or contradictory evidence. How cau¬
tious must, then, a medical practitioner be, when ex¬
amined before such men, when itis their duty to expose
Before consistorial courts, the subjects investigated are,'
1. Impotence; general,relative,curable, incurable.
2. Sterility ; curable, relatively incurable, absolute¬
ly incurable.
3. Uncertainty of sex ; hermaphrodites.
4. Diseases preventing cohabitation; venereal dis¬
ease, leprosy, &c.
MEDICAL POLICE.
Of incomparably greater consequence, and more
widely extended influence, is the second division of this
subject. It regards not merely the welfare of individu¬
als, but the prosperity and security of nations. It is
perhaps the most important branch of general police;
for its influence is not confined to those whom acciden¬
tal circumstances bring within its sphere, but extends
over the whole population of the state.
479
Medical
Jurispru¬
dence.
Many
4S0
Medical
Police.
M E D I
Many of Its principles have been long acknowledged,
and considered as necessary consequences of medical and
political truths ; and some few of them have acquired
the authority of laws, But it was reserved for the phi¬
lanthropic Frank, to collect the whole into one vast
and beneficent system, and to separate it from juridical
medicine ; in the old systems of which, it was neglect¬
ed, or mentioned only in a few short paragraphs^ His
enlarged mind perceived at once, and fully vindi¬
cated its importance. The very name ol IMedical Po¬
lice, is now sufficient to attract the attention of legisla¬
tors and of magistrates, and to make them desirous of
becoming acquainted with its principles, and anxious to
see them carried into execution. In fact, its influence
is already visible in the countries where it is cultivated.
If the principles of medical police were separated from
the professional part of medicine, and communicated in
a form generally intelligible, in what country have we
reason to expect more beneficial effects from its influ¬
ence than this ? Where is the spirit of patriotism and
benevolence so prevalent ? What nation is more gene¬
rous in its public institutions. Where does the indivi¬
dual sacrifice a part of his wealth so willingly for the
benefit of the community ? It seems only necessary to
prove that an undertaking will be of advantage to the
state, to have it carried into instant execution. But,
can medical knowledge be more usefully employed than
in pointing out the means of preserving or improving
health ; of supplying healthy nourishment to the poor,
especially in times of scarcity } of opposing the intro¬
duction of contagious diseases, and of checking their
progress 5 of securing to the indigent the advantages in¬
tended by their benefactors ; of rearing the orphan to
he the support of the nation which has adopted him ;
and of diminishing the horrors of confinement to the
poor maniac and the criminal ? These good effects
are not to be promoted so much by rigid laws, as by
recommendation and example. Nor can it he reason¬
ably objected to a system of medical police, that it is a
pleasing dream, which flatters the imagination, but the
execution of which is in reality impracticable. As
well might we entirely throw aside the rules of hu¬
manity, because no one is able to observe them all ;
or live without laws, because no existing code is unex¬
ceptionable.
Medical police may be defined,—The application of
the principles deduced from the different branches of
medical knowledge, for the promotion, preservation
and restoration of general health.
I he effects to be expected from it are the general
welfare of the state, and increase of healthy population ;
and are to be attained by means of public institutions,
express laws, and popular instruction. Instructing the
people, and convincing them of the propriety of certain
precautions and attentions, in regard to their own and
the general state of health, are necessary to secure the
good effects of our public institutions and regulations •,
to obtain respect and obedience in many things, to
which no express law can be adapted 5 and, to induce
them to forego what may be prejudicial to the safety of
the community, and of themselves.
Public medical institutions and laws, must be adapted
to the country for which they are intended. Many lo¬
cal circumstances, national character, habits of life, pre-
valent customs and professions, situation, climate, &tc.
2
CINE, Append
make considerable varieties necessary. And many in-
stitutions, many a law which would be highly beneficial Pol
to tlie public health, in some circumstances, would
useless, impracticable, and even hurtful, in others.
These causes and their effects, must, therefore, be par¬
ticularly attended to.
The principal authors who have written on this sub¬
ject, are Alberti, Keister, Plaz, Frank, Hussty, Metz¬
ger, and Hebenstreit 5 to whom we may add Howard
and Rumford.
The subjects which it comprehends, cannot be clas¬
sed very regularly or systematically. Its views will be
different, according to occasional and temporary causes j
and its interference may sometimes be advantageously
extended beyond what may. seem the strict limits of a
branch of the medical profession.
Medical Police relates to
The Situation oe Places of Abode. Construc¬
tion of houses.
Air. Means of counteracting its impurity—Its various
impregnations.
'Water. Its necessity and purity.
Food. Its various kinds—Comparative quantities of
nourishment afforded by them—Cheaper
kinds, which may be safely substituted in
times of scarcity—Bread—Animal food—
B uteher meat— Fish—Vegetables—Vessels
—Cookery 5 Healthy ; (Economical.
Drink. Beer—Ale—Porter—Cyder—Spirituous li¬
quors—Wine—Warm drinks—Adultera¬
tions of these liquors—Hurtful additions—
Vessels.
Fire and Light.
Clothing.
Cleanliness.
Professions. Manufacturers—Mechanics—Soldiers
—Sailors—Men of letters.
Healthy Propagation.
Pregnant and Puerperal Women.
New-Born Infants. Registers of birth.
Physical Education.
Prevention of Accidents. From poison—Hurtful
Effluvia—Maniacs—Rabid animals.
Restoration of the Apparently dead. Humane
Societies—Care of the dying—Danger of
too early—too late burial—Places of Inter¬
ment—manner of conducting it—Bills of
mortality.
Contagious and Epidemic diseases. Plague—Pu¬
trid fever—Dysentery—Smallpox—Inocu¬
lation—Extirpation of them—Leprosy-
Itch and pox—Precautions to be taken,
to prevent their introduction, to diminish
their violence, to destroy their cause, and to
counteract their effects.
Management of Public Institutions in which
many people are collected under the care of
the public.
Hospitals for the Indigent:
1. Lying-in Hospitals.
2. Foundling ditto.
3. Orphan ditto.
4. Hospitals for Education.
5. Aged
M E D I
5. Aged.
6. Blind.
7. Maimed.
Militaiy Hospitals:
Prisoners of W ar.
Laxarettoes.
Work-houses.
Prisons.
Hospitals for the Sick.
Maniacs.
Convalescents.
Incurables.
Observations on the Means of preserving Health.
Having now treated of all the most important diseases
to which the human body is subjected, we shall conclude
the article Medicine, with a few observations on the
means of preserving health, both for the general manage¬
ment of valetudinarians, and of those also who wish to
obtain long life and good health by avoiding the causes
of those diseases which the human species often bring
upon themselves. On this subject much has been writ¬
ten at almost every period of medicine. And we may
refer those readers who wish for a lull and extensive
view of this interesting subject to a very elaborate work
lately published by Sir John Sinclair, Bart, entitled the
Code of Health and Longevity. Here we cannot pro¬
pose to give even an abiadged view ol this extensive in¬
quiry •, but must content ourselves with offering only a
very few general observations.
I. Rules for the Management of Valetudinarians.
That part of the medical system which lays down
rules for the preservation of health, and prevention of
diseases, termed Hi/gieina, is not to be strictly understood
as if it respected only those people who enjoy perfect
health, and who are under no apprehensions ol disease,
for such seldom either desire or attend to medical ad¬
vice j but is rather considered as relating to valetudi¬
narians, or such as, though not actually sick, may yet
have sufficient reason to fear that they will soon become
so: hence it is that the rules must be applied to correct
morbific dispositions, and to obviate various particulars
which were shown to be the remote or possible causes of
diseases.
From the way in which the several temperaments
are commonly mentioned by systematic writers, it should
seem as if they meant that every particular constitution
might he referred to one or other ol the four ; but this
is far from being the case, since by much the greater
number of people have temperaments so indistinctly
marked, that it is hard to say to which of the tempera¬
ments they belong.
When we actually meet with particular persons who
have evidently either,
1. Too much strength and rigidity ol fibre, and too
much sensibility j
2. Too little strength, and yet too much sensibi¬
lity ;
3. Too much strength, and but little sensibility j
4. But little sensibility joined to weakness ;
we should look on such persons as more or less in the
Vol. XIII. Part II. t
A jendix.
51 IS of
CINE. 481
valetudinary state, who require that these morbific dis- Means of
positions be particularly watched, lest they fall into preservin';
those diseases which are connected with the different Health. ^
temperaments. v ' •
People of the first-mentioned temperament being
liable to suffer from continued fevers, especially of the
inflammatory species, their scheme of preserving health
should consist in temperate living, with respect both to
diet and exercise: they should studiously avoid immo¬
derate drinking, and be remai'kably cautious lest any
of the natural discharges he checked. People of this
habit bear evacuations well, especially bleeding: they
ought not, however, to lose blood but when they really
require to have the quantity lessened; because too
much of this evacuation would be apt to reduce the
constitution to the second-mentioned temperament, in
which strength is deficient, but sensibility redundant.
Persons of the second temperament are remarkably
proile to suffer from painful and spasmodic diseases, and
are easily ruffled j and those of the softer sex who have
this delicacy of habit, are very much disposed to hyste¬
rical complaints. The scheme here should be, to
strengthen the solids by moderate exercise, cold bath¬
ing, cinchona, and chalybeate waters ; particular at¬
tention should constantly be had to the state of the
digestive organs, to prevent them from being overload¬
ed with any species of saburra which might engender
flatus, or irritate the sensible membranes of the stomach
and intestines, from whence the disorder would soon be
communicated to the w'hole nervous system. Persons
of this constitution should never take any of the drastic
purges, or strong emetics *, neither should they lose
blood but in cases of urgent necessity. But a principal
share of management, in these extremely irritable con¬
stitutions, consists in avoiding all sudden changes of
every sort, especially those with respect to diet and
clothing, and in keeping the mind as much as possible
in a state of tranquillity : hence the great advantages
which people of this frame derive from the use of me¬
dicinal waters drank on the spot, on account of that free¬
dom from care and serious business of every kind, winch
generally obtains in all the places planned loi the ie-
ception of valetudinarians.
The third-mentioned temperament, where there is
an excess of strength and but little sensibility, does not
seem remarkably prone to any distressing or dangerous
species of disease j and therefore it can hardly be sup¬
posed that persons so circumstanced will either of them¬
selves think of any particular scheme of management,
or have recourse to the faculty for their instructions.
such constitutions, however, we may observe, hear
all kinds of evacuations well, and sometimes require
them to prevent an over-fulness, which might end in
an oppression of the brain or some other organ ot im¬
portance. , , ,
But the fourth temperament, where we have weak¬
ness joined to want of sensibility, is exceedingly apt to
fall into tedious and dangerous diseases, arising nom a
defect of absorbent power in the proper sets of vessels,
and from languor of the circulation 111 general;
whence corpulency, dropsy, jaundice, and different
degrees of scorbutic affection. In order to prevent
these, or any other species of accumulation and depra¬
vation of the animal fluids, the people of tins consti¬
tution should use a generous course of diet, with brisk
^ J* exercise^
4$ 2
Means of exercise, and be careful that none of the secretions be
preserving interrupted, nor any of the natural discharges suppressed.
riealth . These constitutions bear purging well, and often re-
C quire it; as also the use of emetics, which are frequent-
]y found necessary to supply the place of exercise, by
agitating the abdominal viscera, and are of service to
prevent the stagnation of bile, or the accumulation of
mucous humours, which hinder digestion, and clog the
first passages. The free use of mustard, horse-radish,
and the like sort of stimulating dietetics, is serviceable
in these torpid habits.
"When the general mass of fluids is increased beyond
what is conducive to the perfection of health, there
arises what the tvriters term a plethora, which may
prove the source of different diseases 5 and therefore,
when this overfulness begins to produce languor and
oppression, care should be taken in time to reduce the
body to a proper standard, by abridging the food and
increasing the natural disharges, using more exercise,
and indulging less in sleep.
But in opposite circumstances, where the fluids have
been exhausted, we are to attempt the prevention of
further waste by the use of strengthening stomachics,
nourishing diet, and indulgence from fatigue of body or
mind.
\itiated fluids are to be considered as tainted either
with the different kinds of general acrimony, or as be¬
traying signs of some of the species of morbific matter
which give rise to particular diseases, such as calculus,
scurvy, &c.
During the state of infancy, we may sometimes ob¬
serve a remarkable acidity, which not only shows itself
in the first passages, but also seems to contaminate the
general mass of fluids. As it takes its rise, however,
from weak bowels, our views, when we mean to pre¬
vent the ill consequences, must be chiefly directed to
Strengthen the digestive organs, as on their soundness
the preparation of good chyle depends ; and hence
small doses of rhubarb and chalybeates (either the na¬
tural chalybeate waters mixed with milk, or the murias
ammonia et fern in doses of a few grains, according
to the age of the child), are to be administered } and
the diet is to he so regulated as not to add to this
acid tendency : brisk exercise is likewise to be enjoined,
with trictions on the stomach, belly, and lower extre¬
mities.
Where the fluids tend to the putrescent state, which
shows itself by fetid breath, sponginess and bleeding of
the gums, a bloated look and livid cast, the diet then
should be chiefly of fresh vegetables and ripe fruits,
with wine in moderation, due exercise, and strengthen¬
ing bitters.
Where acrimony shows itself by itching eruptions,
uncommon thirst, and flushing heats, nothing will an¬
swer better than such sulphureous waters as the Harrow-
gate and Moffat, at the same time using a course of
diet that shall be neither acrid nor heating.
So far with respect to those kinds of morbific mat¬
ter, which do not invariably produce a particular spe¬
cies of disease 5 but there are others of a specific nature,
some of which are generated in the body spoutaneous-
iy, and seem to arise from errors in diet, or other cir¬
cumstances of ill management with respect to the ani-
unai economy j and hence it is sometimes possible, to
a certain oegree if not altogether, to prevent the ill eon-
Appendi
sequences. Thus, there are instances where returns of Means
the gout have been prevented by adhering strictly to a preservi
milk diet. | Health
The rheumatism has also been sometimes warded off
by wearing a flannel shirt, or by using the cold bath
without interruption.
Calculus may be retarded in its progress, and pre¬
vented from creating much distress, by the internal use
of soap and lime-water, by soap-lees taken in milk or
in veal-broth, or by the use of aerated alkaline water,
which may perhaps he considered as being both more
safe and more efficacious,. and at the same time more
pleasant than any of the other practices.
The scurvy may be prevented by warm clothing and
perseverance in brisk exercise, by drinking wine or cy¬
der, and eating freely of such vegetable substances as
can be had in those situations where this disease is most
apt to show itself.
In constitutions where there is an hereditary dispo¬
sition to the scrophula, if early precautions be taken to
strengthen the solids by cold bathing, a nourishing
course of diet, and moderate use of wine, the constitu¬
tion which gives rise to the disease will probably be pre¬
vented from producing any very bad effects.
The other kinds of morbific matter, which are of the
specific nature, are received into the body by infection
or contagion.
The infection of a putrid fever or dysentery is best
prevented by immediately taking an emetic on the first
attack of the sickness or shivering; and if that do not
completely answer, let a large blister be applied be¬
tween the shoulders: by this method the nurses and
other attendants on the sick in the naval hospitals have
often been preserved. As to other infectious morbific
matter, wre must refer to what has already been said
when treating of hydrophobia, poisons, gonorrhoea, &c.
The ill effects which may arise from the different
species of saburra, are to be obviated, in general, by
the prudent administration of emetics, and carefully
abstaining from such kinds of food as are known to
cause the accumulation of noxious matters in the first
passages.
Crude vegetables, milk, butter, and other oily sub¬
stances, are to be avoided by persons troubled with a
sourness in the stomach j brisk exercise, especially la¬
ding, is to be used, and they are to refrain from fer¬
mented liquors : the common drink should be pure
water ; or water with a very little of some ar¬
dent spirit, such as rum or brandy. Seltzer or Pyr-
mont waters are to be drunk medicinally •, and aroma¬
tic bitters, infusions, or tinctures, acidulated with sul¬
phuric acid, will be found serviceable, in order to
strengthen the fibres of the stomach, and promote the
expulsion of its contents, thereby preventing the too
hasty fermentation of the alimentary mixture. In or¬
der to procure immediate relief, magnesia alba, or crcta
praiparata, will seldom fail; the magnesia, as well as
the chalk, may be made into lozenges, with a little
sugar and mucilage j and in that form may be carried
about and taken occasionally by people afflicted with
the acid saburra.
In constitutions where there is an exuberance or stag¬
nation of bile, and a troublesome bitterness in the
mouth, it is necessary to keep the bowels always free,
by.taking occasionally ,small doses of pure aloes, oleum
riewi,
MEDICINE.
>■ >• >■ fi&>->• ^
^ pendix.
M E D I
m as of snp^rtartrite of potass, some of the common pur-
pr rving ging salts, or the natural purging waters.
J ,llth’ ■ When there is a tendency to the empyreumatic and
' rancid saburra, people should carefully avoid all the va¬
rious kinds of those oily and high-seasoned articles of
diet generally termed made-dishes, and eat sparingly of
plain meat, without rich sauces or much gravy ; and
in these cases the most proper drink is pure w ater.
•4 H* Rules for those tuho enjoy perfect Health.
There can be no doubt, that, in general, tempe¬
rance is the true foundation of health ; and yet the
ancient physicians, as W'e may see in the rules laid
down by Celsus, did not scruple to recommend indul¬
gence now and then, and allowed people to exceed
both in eating and drinking; but it is safer to pro¬
ceed to excess in drink than in meat ; and if the
debauch should create any extraordinary or distressing
degree of pain or sickness, and a temporary fever
should ensue, there are two ways of shaking it off,
either to lie in bed and encourage perspiration, or to
get on horseback, and by brisk exercise restore the
body to its natural state. The choice of these two
methods must always be determined by the peculiar
circumstances of the parties concerned, and from the
experience which they may before have had which a-
grees best with them.
If a person should commit excess in eating, espe¬
cially of high-seasoned things, with rich sauces, a
draught of cold water, acidulated with sulphuric acid,
will take ofl the sense of weight at the stomach, and
assist digestion by moderating and keeping within
bounds the alimentary fermentation, and thus prevent¬
ing the generation of too much flatus. The luxury of
ices may be here of real service at the tables of the
great, as producing similar effects with the cold water
acidulated. Persons in these circumstances ought not
to lay themselves down to sleep, but should keep up
and use gentle exercise until they are sensible that the
stomach is unloaded, and that they no longer feel any
oppressive weight about the praecordia.
If a man be obliged to fast, he ought, if possible,
during that time, to avoid laborious work : after suffer¬
ing severe hunger, people ought not at once to gorge
and fill themselves ; nor is it proper, after being over¬
filled, to enjoin an absolute fast: neither is it safe to in¬
dulge in a state of total rest immediately after excessive
labour, nor suddenly fall hard to work after having been
long without motion: in a word, all changes should be
made by gentle degrees; for though the constitution of
CINE. 483
the human body be such that it can bear many altera- Means of
tions and irregularities without much danger ; yet, when preserving
the transitions are extremely sudden, there is a great Health.
risk of producing some degree of disorder.
It is also the advice of Celsus to vary the scenes of
life, and not confine onrselves to any settled rules : but
as inaction renders the body weak and listless, and exer¬
cise gives vigour and strength, people should never long
omit riding, walking, or going abroad in a carriage.
Fencing, playing at tennis, dancing, or other similar
engagements, which afford both exercise and amusement,
as each shall be found most agreeable or convenient, are
to be used in turn, according to the circumstances ami
tendency to any particular species of disease. But when
the weakness of old age shall have rendered the body
incapable of all these, then dry frictions with the flesh-
brush will be very requisite to preserve health, by
accelerating the flow of humours through the smallest
orders of vessels, and preventing the fluids from stag
nating too long in the cellular interstices of the fleshy
parts. .
Sleep is the great restorer of strength ; for, during
this time, the nutritious particles appear to be chiefly
applied to repair the waste, and replace those that
have been abraded and washed off by the labour and
exercise of the day ; but too much indulgence in sleep
has many inconveniences, both w’ith respect to body
and mind, as it blunts the senses, and encourages the
fluids to stagnate in the cellular membrane ; whence
corpulency, and its necessary consequences languor and
weakness.
The proper time for sleep is the night, when darkness
and silence naturally bring it on : sleep in the daytime,
from noise and other circumstances, is in general not so
sound or refreshing; and to some people is really distress¬
ful, as creating an unusual giddiness and languor, espe¬
cially in persons addicted to literary pursuits. Custom,
however, frequently renders sleep in the day necessary;
and in those constitutions where it is found to give real
refreshment, the propensity to it ought to be indulged,
particularly in very advanced age.
With regard to the general regimen of diet, it has al¬
ways been held as a rule, that the softer and milder kinds
of aliment are most proper for children and younger sub¬
jects : that grown persons should eat what is more sub¬
stantial ; and old people lessen their quantity of solid
food, and increase that of their drink both of the diluent
and cordial kind. For full information on the subject of
Diet and Regimen, see the article Dietetics in the
Supplement.
INDEX.
A.
IPSia, Gen. 108. N0 376
ustia, Gen. 99. 366
URosis, Gen. 93. 360
norrhoea, Gen. 126. 402
ntia, Gen. 65. 326
phrodisia, Gen. 109. 377
5Arca, Gen. 73. 339
>thesia, Gen. 100. 366
Anorexia, Gen. 107. N° 375
Anosima, Gen. 98. 365
Aphonia, Gen. no. 379
Aphtha, Gen. 35. 233
Apoplexia, Gen. 42. 255
Arthropuosis, Gen. 25. 216
Ascites, Gen. 79. 343
Asthma, Gen. 55. 292
Atrophia, Gen. 70, 333
Abortus, N° 247
Abscess of the lungs, 186
Acute rheumatism, 205
Acrimony of the blood, 103
Adynamice, 271
^Egyptian physicians, 2
Aesculapius, 4
JEtius, 43
Alexander^ 44
3 P 2 Amentia,
4*4
Amentia, * Ntt 3 26
Amphimerina eardlaca, I5I
paluclosa, JJ2
Anaphrodisia, 377
Angina pectoris, 4°3
Animal fat, 7 2
Anxiety, 7^
Apocenoses, 3° 5
Apoplexy, sanguineous, 256
serous, 257
hydrocephalic, 258
Appearance of the venereal disease, 53
Arabians, 4^
Artkrodynia, 209
Asclepiades, 3 5
Atonic gout, 213
B,
Bulima, Gen. 101.
Bastard pleurisy, 208
Bleeding at the nose, 235
Bloody flux, 254
Branks, 18 2
Buff-coloured crust on the blood, 99
Burning fever, I4°
C.
Calico, Gen. 92. 359
Carditis, Gen. 13. 188
Catarrhus, Gen. 50. 251
Chlorosis, Gen. 47. 277
Cholera, Gen. 60. 308
Chorea, Gen. 51. 284
Colica, Gen. 59. 301
CoNTRACTURA, Gen. Iiy. 384
Convulsio, Gen. 50. 283
Cynanche, Gen. 10. 176
Cystitis, Gen. 20. 201
Cachexice, 33°
Canine appetite, 3^9
madness, 322
Cardiac syncope, 273
Catalepsis, 263
Cataract, 359
Catarrh, from cold, 251
from contagionj 253
Causes of affections of the solids, 70
Causus, 140
Celsus, 40
Cellular texture, 71
Cephalalgia, 40 5
Chemical analysis of the animal solid, 68
Chickenpox, 226
Childbed fever, 404
Children, diseases of, 41 o
Chincough, 299
Cholera, 308
spontaneous, 309
accidental, 310
Chronic rheumatism, 209
Circulation, 95
Coeliac passion, 315
College of Salernum, 48
Confirmed phthisis, 239
Continued fevers, 164
Constantine, 49
Consumption, pulmonary, 2.37
MEDICI N E.
Convulsive tertian, N° 133
Corpulency,
Costiveness,
Cough,
Cowpox,
Croup,
D.
Diabetes, Gen. 62.
Diarrhoea, Gen. 61.
Dysecoea, Gen. 96.
Dysenteria, Gen. 41.
Dysopia, Gen. 94.
Dyspepsia, Gen. 45.
Dyspermatismus, Gen. 125.
Dyspnoea, Gen. 56.
Dysuria, Gen. 124.
JAeafness,
Debility,
Delirium,
Difficulty of discharging urine,
Digestion,
depraved
Discovery of the circulation,
Diseases from accidents,
from passions of the mind,
from age and sex,
from climate,
in the muscular power.
Distinction of diseases,
Division of the functions,
Double quartan,
tertian,
Dropsy,
of the brain,
of the breast,
of the abdomen j
of the uterus,
of the scrotum.
Dumbness,
Duplicated quartan,
tertian,
Dysccsthesiee,
Dyscinesice,
Dysentery,
Dysorexia,
Dyspermatismus,
E.
Elephantiasis, Gen. 87.
Enteritis, Gen. 16.
Enuresis, Gen. 120.
Ephidrosis, Gen. 117.
Epilepsia, Gen. 53.
Epiphora, Gen. 118.
Epistaxis, Gen. 36.
Erysipelas, Gen. 26.
Emphysema,
Empirics,
Empyema,
Epilepsy,
Epischeses,
Erasistratus,
Eruptive tertian,
Erythema,
Exanthemata,
Excessive perspiration.
335
108, 393
105
224
180
3'Z
311
363
254
361
275
401
292
399
363
91
84
399
107
275
55
65
66
63
64
87
57
56
1
128
339
258
342
343
344
345
380
154
129
358
378
254
368
401
352
*95
390
387
286
388
235
218
336
33
187
286
392
31
I34
174
217
u6
Excessive thirst,
Exciting cause of diseases,
F.
FramboEsia, Gen. 89.
Fainting,
False appetite,
Febrcs,
Feeling,
depraved,
Fever, continued,
remittent,
intermittent,
scarlet,
childbed,
Flooding,
Fluor albus,
Furor uterinus,
G.
Gastritis, Gen. 15.
Gonorrhoea, Gen. 121.
Galen,
Gout,
Greek physicians,
Green sickness,
Gutta serena,
H.
Haemoptysis, Gen. 37.
HaEMORrhois, Gen. 38.
Hepatitis, Gen. 17.
Hydrocele, Gen. 81.
Hydrocephalus, Gen. 76.
Hydrometra, Gen. 80,
Hydrophobia, Gen. 64.
Hydrorachitis, Gen. 77.
Hydrothorax, Gen. 78.
Hypochondriasis, Gen. 46.
Hysteria, Gen. 63.
Hysteritis, Gen. 21.
Hamorrhagice,
Hearing,
depraved,
Heartburn,
Hectic fever,
Hemiplegia,
Hepatic flux,
Hereditary diseases,
Herophilus,
Hippocrates,
Hooping cough,
Hydrocephalic apoplexy,
I.
Icterus, Gen. 91.
Ischuria, Gen. 123.
Idiotism,
Iliac passion,
Impetigines,
Incipient phthisis,
Incontinence of urine,
Incubus,
Inflammation of the bladder,
of the brain,
of the heart,
of the intestines,
of the kidney,
of the liver,
Inch
Ns
35
27
37
12
7
36
6
*3
12
23
4C
24
25
37
*9
39
4
21
27
36
23
24
J9
34
34
34
32
34
34
27
32
2C
23
8
3f
3C
1;
2(
%
2.
3,
31
86,3
1
3
2
1
3
2
1
1
1
2
1
Injlammrt'
MEDICINE.
Ophthalmia, Gen. 8. N° 174
XI5
274
406
Obstructed perspiration,
Occasional syncope,
Oesophagus, dangerous affection of,
Oribasius,
Origin of diseases,
P.
Palpitatio, Gen. 54.
Paracusis, Gen. 97.
Paralysis, Gen. 43.
Paraphonia, Gen. 112.
Pemphigus, Gen. 34.
Peritonitis, Gen. 14.
Pertussis, Gen. 57.
Pestis, Gen. 27.
Phlogosis, Gen. 7.
Phrenitis, Gen. 9.
Physconia, Gen. 82.
Physometra, Gen. 74.
Pica, Gen. 103.
Pneumatosis, Gen. 72.
Pneumonia, Gen. 11.
Polydipsia, Gen. 102.
Polysarcia, Gen. 71.
Profusio, Gen. 116.
Pseudoblepsis, Gen. 95.
Psellismus, Gen. 113.
Ptyalismus, Gen. 119.
Pyrosis, Gen. 58.
Pam,
Palpitation,
Palsy,
from poisons,
Paracelsus,
Paraplegia,
Paulus,
Peripneumonia,
Phlegmasice,
P hlegmone,
Phthisis,
Piles,
external,
from a procidentia ani,
running,
blind,
Plague,
Plethora,
Plica polonica,
Pleuritis,
Podagra,
Poisons,
Praxagoras,
Predisponent cause.
Proximate cause,
Puerperal fever,
Pulmonary consumption,.
Pulsation of the arteries,
Putrid fever,
Putrid sore throat,
Pyrexice,
Q.
Quartana, Gen. 2.
Quotidiana, Gen. 3.
42
62
290
364
265
381
232
189
299
221
171
I75
346
338
371
336
184
37°
335
386
362
382
389
3°°
75
97'
92, 265
269
52
268
45
184
171
x73
237
240
241
242
243
244
221
IOO
355
185
211
408
30
59
61
4.04
237
96
167
179
124
153
306
Qualities of the animal solids,
Quartan with symptoms of other dis
eases,
complicated with other dis
eases.
Quotidian, genuine,
partial,
remitting,
Quotidiana deceptiva,
R.
Rachitis, Gen. 83.
Raphania, Gen. 52.
Rheumatismus, Gen. 22.
Rubeola, Gen. 30.
Regular gout,
Remittent tertian,
Remitting quartan.
Respiration,
Retrocedent gout,
Rheumatism in the loins,
in the hip-joint,
in the thorax,
Rha’zes,
Rickets,
Rules for preserving health,.
for valetudinarians,
S.
Satyriasis, Gen. 104.
Scarlatina, Gen. 32.
Scorbutus, Gen. 86.
Scrophula, Gen. 84.
Siphylis, Gen. 85.
Splenitis, Gen. 18.
Strabismus, Gen. 114.
Syncope, Gen. 44.
Synocha, Gen. 4.
Synochus, Gen. 6.
St Anthony''s fire,
St Vitus's dance,
Sanguineous apoplexy,
Salivation,,
Sciatica,
Scirrhus,
Scurvy,
Sea scurvy,
Semen, difficult .emission of, .
Semi-tertian,
Serapion,
Serous apoplexy,
Sight,
Sleep,
Sleepy tertian,
Smallpox,
distinct,
confluent,
inoculated,
Smell,
Smelling, depraved,
Sneezing,
Soranus,
Spasm,
Spasmi,
Spasmodic colic,
tertian,
485
N° 69
158
*59
i6r
162
163
*5°
347
285
205
227
212
138
160
104
214
206
207
208
47
347
4J4
4*3
372
203,
35i
3491
350
199
383
272
163 ■
168
ai 8
284
236
389
207
122
351
ib.
401
131
34
257
81
94
132
222
223
224
223
79
365
jo6
39
93
278
302
133
Spina
4*4
Amentia, * 3
Amphimerim cardiaca, 151
paludo^a, JJ2
Anaphrodma, 377
Angina pectori?, 4°3
Animal fet, 7 2
Anxiety, 7^
Apocenoses, 3^5
Apoplexy, sanguineous, 256
serous, 257
hydrocephalic, 258
Appearance of the venereal disease, 53
Arabians, 4^
Arthrodynia, 209
Asclepiades, 3 5
Atonic gout, 213
B,
Bulima, Gen. 101. 369
Bastard pleurisy, 208
Bleeding at the nose, 235
Bloody flux, 254
Branks, 18 2
Buff-coloured crust on the blood, 99
Burning fever, I4°
C.
Calico, Gen. 92. 359
Carditis, Gen. 13. 188
Catarrhus, Gen. 50. 251
Chlorosis, Gen. 47. 277
Cholera, Gen. 60. 308
Chorea, Gen. 51. 284
Colica, Gen. 59. 301
Contractura, Gen. 115. 384
Convulsio, Gen. 50. 283
Cynanche, Gen. 10. 176
Cystitis, Gen. 20. 201
Cachexia, 330
Canine appetite, 3^9
madness, 322
Cardiac syncope, 273
Catalepsis, 263
Cataract, 359
Catarrh, from cold, 251
from contagion, 233
Causes of affections of the solids, 70
Causus, 140
Celsus, 40
Cellular texture, 71
Cephalalgia, 405
Chemical analysis of the animal solid, 68
Chickenpox, 226
Childbed fever, 404
Children, diseases of, 41 o
Chincovgh, 299
Cholera, 308
spontaneous, 309
accidental, 310
Chronic rheumatism,. 209
Circulation, 95
Coeliac passion, 315
College of Salernum, 48
Confirmed phthisis, • 239
Continued fevers, 164
Constantine, 49
Consumption, pulmonary, 2.37
M E D I C I N
Convulsive tertian,
Corpulency,
Costiveness,
Cough,
Cowpox,
Croup,
Diabetes, Gen. 62.
Diarrhoea, Gen. 61.
Dysecoea, Gen. 96.
Dysenteria, Gen. 41.
Dysopia, Gen. 94.
Dyspepsia, Gen. 45.
Dyspermatismus, Gen. 125.
Dyspnoea, Gen. 56.
Dysuria, Gen. 124.
Deafness,
Debility,
Delirium,
Difficulty of discharging urin<
Digestion,
depraved
Discovery of the circulation,
Diseases from accidents,
from passions of the
from age and sex,
from climate,
in the muscular pow
Distinction of diseases,
Division of the functions,
Double quartan,
tertian,
Dropsy,
of the brain,
of the breast,
of the abdomenj
of the uterus,
of the scrotum.
Dumbness,
Duplicated quartan,
tertian,
Dysevsthesia,
Dyscinesice,
Dysentery,
Dysorexia,
Dyspermatismus,
E.
Elephantiasis, Gen. 87.
Enteritis, Gen. 16.
Enuresis, Gen. 120.
Ephidrosis, Gen. 117.
Epilepsia, Gen. 53.
Epiphora, Gen. 118.
Epistaxis, Gen. 36.
Erysipelas, Gen. 26.
Emphysema,
Empirics,
Empyema,
Epilepsy,
Epischeses,
Erasistratus,
Eruptive tertian.
Erythema,
Exanthemata,
Excessive perspiration,
E.
N° 133 Excessive thirst,
GO
0
^ PaMKoeHM"!
f CLh
rr*
pBMirrirrmttA*
Wj
OOO b*' b*'b?'b*'
I lex.
I immation of the lungs,
of the mesentery,
of the omentum,
of the peritoneum,
of the spleen,
of the stomach,
of the uterus,
/i mmatory tertian,
X illation,
l mitt elites,
l mescentice,
J gular tei’tian,
l ing,
Jt dice,
J, ish physicians,
K.
ii v's evil,
L.
I ra, Gen. 88.
X corrhota,
L itery,
L lies,
X 'tial discharge, immoderate,
X 'ced jaw,
X teness,
l : of voice,
1 ? venerea,
I ibago,
M.
3\ kia, Gen. 67.
J i,ancholi a, Gen. 66.
5 'fORRHAGIA, Gen. 39.
J jaria, Gen. 31.
B titas, Gen. nr.
J Incss, melancholy,
furious,
i ignant sore throat,
J -cores,
I isles,
A anchohj and mania,
i cene,
i wry,
* ises, immoderate flow of,
J hodical sect,
^ vlaced gout,
•J
a ferns,
A -bid thinness of the blood,
thickness of the blood,
-'I nps,
N.
'Hritis, Gen. 19.
talgia, Gen. 106.
tiPHOMANiA, Gen. 105.
'sea,
tie ra§h,
vous consumption,
fever,
htmare,
es,
o.
riPATio, Gen. 122.
•ntalgia, Gen. 23.
IRODYnia, Gen. 68.
N° 183
191
190
189
199
192
204
*35
225
334
127
77
356
349
353
250
2x6
357
248
280
109
379
35°
206
328
327
245
229
380
327
328
179
331
227
85
409
83
246
36
215
88
54
101
102
182
200
374
373
112:'
231
333
166
329
228
393
2x0
329
42
62
MEDICINE.
Ophthalmia, Gen. 8. N° 174
Obstructed perspiration, 115
Occasional syncope, 274
Oesophagus, dangerous aftection of, 406
Oribasius,
Origin of diseases,
P.
Palpitatio, Gen. 54.
Paracusis, Gen. 97.
Paralysis, Gen. 43.
Paraphonia, Gen. 112.
Pemphigus, Gen. 34.
Peritonitis, Gen. 14.
Pertussis, Gen. 57.
Pest is, Gen. 27.
Phlogosis, Gen. 7.
Phrenitis, Gen. 9.
Physconia, Gen. 82.
Physometra, Gen. 74.
Pica, Gen. 103.
Pneumatosis, Gen. 72.
Pneumonia, Gen. 11.
Polydipsia, Gen. 102.
Polysarcia, Gen. 71.
Profusio, Gen. 116.
Pseudoblepsis, Gen. 95.
Psellismus, Gen. 113.
Ptyalismus, Gen. 119.
Pyrosis, Gen. 58.
Pain,
Palpitation,
Palsy,
from poisons,
Paracelsus,
Paraplegia,
Paulas,
Peripneumonia,
Phlegmasia,
Phlegmone,
Phthisis,
Piles,
external,
from a procidentia ani,
running,
blind,
Plague,
Plethora,
Plica polonica,
Pleuritis,
Podagra,
Poisons,
Praxagoras,
Predisponent cause,.
Proximate cause,
Puerperal fever,
Pulmonary consumption,.
Pulsation of the arteries,
Putrid fever,
Putrid sore throat,
Pyrexice,
Q.
Quart ana, Gen. 2.
Quotidiana, Gen. 3.
290
364
265
381
232
189
299
221
171
*75
346
338
371
336
184
37°
335
386
362
382
389
300
75
97
92, 265
269
52
268
45
184
171
I73
237
240
241
242
243
244
221
IOO
355
185
211
498
30
59
61
404
237
96
167
179
124
153
106
Qualities of the animal solids,
Quartan with symptoms of other dis
eases,
complicated with other dis
eases,
Quotidian, genuine,
partial,
remitting,
Quotidiana deceptiva,
K.
Rachitis, Gen. 83.
Raphania, Gen. 52.
Rheumatismus, Gen. 22.
Rubeola, Gen. 30.
Regular gout,
Remittent tertian,
Remitting quartan,
Respiration,
Retrocedent gout,
Rheumatism in the loins,
in the hip-joint,
in the thorax,
Rhaezes,
Rickets,
Rules for preserving health,.
for valetudinarians,
S.
Satyriasis, Gen. 104.
Scarlatina, Gen. 32.
Scorbutus, Gen. 86.
Scrophula, Gen. 84*
Siphylis, Gen. 85.
Splenitis, Gen. 18.
Strabismus, Gen. 114.
Syncope, Gen. 44.
Synocha, Gen. 4.
Synochus, Gen. 6.
St Anthony's fire,
St Vitus''s dance,
Sanguineous apoplexy,
Salivation,,
Sciatica,
Scirrhus,
Scurvy,
Sea scurvy,
Semen, difficult emission ol3 .
Semi-tertian,
Serapion,
Serous apoplexy,
Sight,
Sleep,
Sleepy tertian,
Smallpox,
distinct,
confluent,
inoculated,'
Smell,
Smelling, depraved,
Sneezing,
Soranus,
Spasm,
Spasmi,
Spasmodic colic,
tertian.
4^5
N° 69
158
159
i6r
162
163
25°
347
285
205
227
212
138
166
104
214
206
207
20S
47
347
414
4*3
372
203.
35r
3491
350
199
383
272
163*
168
218
284
256
389
207
122
351
ib.
401
*3*
34
257
81
94
132
222
223
224
225
79
365
106
39
93
278
302
*33
Spina
486
Spina bifida,
Spitting of blood,
Spurious tertian,
Stone in the bladder,
Strangury,
State of medicine in the 15 th and 16th
centuries,
in the 17th and 18th centuries,
Suppression of menses,
of urine,
Sweating sickness,
Symptoms of disease,
N° 34i
236
127
400
II9
50
54
402
II7> 394
51
58
T.
Tabes, Gen. 69.
Tertiana, Gen. 1.
Tetanus, Gen. 48.
Trichoma, Gen. 90.
Trismus, Gen. 49.
Tympanites, Gen. 73.
Typhus, Gen. 5.
Taste,
Tasting, depraved,
Tenesmus,
332
126
279
355
‘ 280
337
164
78
366
in
MEDICINE.
Tertian complicated with other
orders,
varied from its origin,
Themison,
Thessalus,
Thrush,
Toothach,
Torpor,
Tremor,
Triple quartan,
Triplicated quartan,
Triple tertian,
Tritceophya Americana,
apodes,
carotica,
deceptiva,
elodes,
leipyria,
syncopalis,
typhodes,
vratislaviensis,
U.
Urticaria, Gen. 33.
Urinary calculi,
dis
N° 136
I37
233
210
90
270
lSl
I55
130
148
144
H5
*47
M3
146
I39
142
141
231
121
V.
Varicella, Gen. 29.
Variola, Gen. 28.
Vaccine inoculation,
Variolodes,
Venereal disease,
Vertigo,
Vesajiice,
Vigour,
Vis medicatrix naturae.
Vision, depraved,
Vital solids,
Vomica,
W.
Want of appetite,
of thirst,
Wasting of the body,
Water brash,
in the head,
Whites,
Worms,
Y.
Yaws,
Yellow fever,
Inde
N° 2 I
1
:
]
MED
Mcdicis. MEDICIS, Cosmo de, was born in the year 1389,
v and was in the prime of life, at the death of his father
Giovanni. His conduct was distinguished for urbanity
and kindness to the superior ranks of his fellow-citizens,
and by a constant attention to the wants of the lower
class, whom his munificence abundantly relieved. His
prudence and moderation, however, could not repress the
ambitious designs of the rival families, the Florentines
and Medici; for in 1433, Rinaldo de Albizi, at the
head ol a formidable party, carried the appointment of
the magistracy. On returning from his country seat he
Was seized upon by his adversaries, and committed to
prison. The conspirators not agreeing as to the proper
method of dispatching their prisoner, one Peruzzi re¬
commended poison, which was heard by Cosmo, who
refused to take any other sustenance than a small por¬
tion of bread. In this dismal situation he remained
four days, shut up from all his kindred and friends,
where he soon expected to be numbered with the dead.
But the man employed to take him off, unexpectedly
proved his friend. Malavolta, the keeper of the prison,
relented, and declared that he had no just reason to be
alarmed, as he hesitated not to eat of every thing that
was brought him.
His brother Lorenzo, and his cousin Averardo
raised a considerable body of men in Romagna and
other districts ; and being joined by the commander of
the republican forces, they marched to Florence to re¬
lieve him. A. decree was obtained from the magi¬
stracy, by which he was banished to Padua for ten
years, his brother to Venice for five, and several of
their relations shared a similar fate. Padua was in the
onnnions of Venice, and he received a deputation
rom the senate before he reached it, promising him
heir protection and assistance in w hatever he should de-
M E D
sire. He rather experienced the treatment of a prince Medk
than of an exile, as they entertained the highest expecta- U“’V’
tions from his great commercial knowledge. From
this period his life may be considered as one continued
scene of uninterrupted prosperity, and his family re¬
ceived education equal to that of the greatest poten¬
tates. In his public and private charities he was almost
unbounded, and perhaps possessed more wealth than
any single individual in Europe at that period. In his
promotion of science and encouragement of learned men
he was truly exemplary, and from this source he acquir¬
ed the greatest honour and esteem.
His fostering hand protected the arts as wTell as the
sciences ; and architecture, sculpture, and painting, all
flourished under his powerful protection. The coun¬
tenance he showed to these arts was not such as their
professors generally receive from the great; for the
sums of money which he expended on pictures, statues,
and public buildings, appear almost incredible. When
he approached the period of his mortal existence, his
faculties were still unimpaired ; and 20 days before he
died, he requested Ficino to translate from the Greek
the treatise of Xenocrates on death. He died on the
1st of August 1464, at the age of 75, and gave strict
injunctions, that his funeral should be conducted with
as much privacy as possible. By public decree he was
honoured with the title of Pater Patrice, an appellation
which was inscribed on his tomb, and was declared by
competent judges, to be founded in real merit.
Medici, Lorenzo de, stiled, with great propriety,
the Magnificent, was the grandson of Cosmo, and about
16 years of age at his decease. In 1469 his father died,,
and he succeeded to his authority as if it had constitut¬
ed a part of his fortune. In the year 1474, Lorenzo
incurred the displeasure of the pope for the opposition
MED [ 43? ] MED
cis. he made to some of his encroachments on the petty
—J princes of Italy, and for this reason he deprived him
of the office of treasurer of the Roman see, which he
conferred on one Pazzi, connected with a Florentine
family, the interest of which he thus secured, and in¬
tended to sacrifice Lorenzo and Juliano to his private
revenge. Their assassination was fixed for Sunday,
April 26. 1478, and the cathedral was the place in
which a monster of an archbishop had resolved to mur¬
der them by the instigation of the pope. When the
people saw one of their favourites (Juliano) expiring,
and the other (Lorenzo) covered with blood, their rage
was not to be expressed in language. The interference
of the magistrates was finally victorious, who had the
courage and virtue to hang the archbishop from one of
the windows, arrayed in his pontifical robes, which
made Florence resound with the acclamation—Medici,
Medici! down with their enemies !
Lorenzo was delivered from that part of the cathe¬
dral to which he had fled for refuge, and was trium¬
phantly carried home, where his wounds were attended
to by men of ability. His friends in the mean time
pursued the conspirators, and spared none who happen¬
ed to fall in their way. In a word, the generality of
them were either hanged or decapitated, and very few
had the good fortune to escape their uncommon vigil¬
ance. Much to the honour of Lorenzo, he exerted all
his influence to prevent the indiscriminate massacre of
his cruel enemies, and restrain the just indignation of
the people, begging that they would trust the magi¬
strates with the punishment of the guilty ; and the re¬
spect in which he was held had the most astonishing
effect in restraining the vengeance of popular indigna¬
tion.
No sooner had hostilities ceased between Pope Sextus
and the Florentine republic, than Lorenzo began to
develope plans for securing the internal peace and tran¬
quillity of Italy, by which the highest honour has been
conferred on his political life. But the life of this great
man was again brought into imminent danger by the
intrigues of Cardinal Riario, and some Florentine exiles,
who determined to assassinate him in the church of the
Carmeli, on the festival of the Ascension 1481 ; but
the plot was happily discovered, the conspirators were
executed, and after this Lorenzo very seldom went
abroad without being surrounded by a number of friends
in whom he could securely confide.
When we attentively examine the character of Lo¬
renzo, it will not perhaps appear astonishing, that Italy,
Christendom, and even the Mahometans themselves,
conferred upon him the most flattering approbation.
Even Prince Mirandola chose Florence as the place of
his residence entirely upon his account, and thei’e end¬
ed his mortal career. To a most engaging person Lo¬
renzo added almost every other accomplishment. He
was the favourite of the ladies, the envy of his own sex,
and the admiration of all. He was declared to be un¬
rivalled in chivalry, and one of the most eminent ora¬
tors that the world in any age has produced. Accord¬
ing to the opinion of his contemporaries, he was even
superior to Julius Csesar himself, except as a general,
yet he would also have proved a most consummate com¬
mander had not peace been always the darling of his
soul. We recollect a memorable passage in the Ram¬
bler, which may here be, appositely intrpduced, A
great man condescending to do little things, is like the
sun in his western declination ; he remits his splendor,
but retains his magnitude, and pleases more though he
dazzles less. To such- little things did Lorenzo fre¬
quently submit, often seeking pleasure in his nursery,
and spending hours there in all the frivolous pranks of
childish diversion. The gravity of his life, if contrast¬
ed with its levity, must make him appear as a compo
sition of two different persons, incompatible, and, as it
were, impossible to be joined the one with the other.
Such were the love and veneration of the citizens
for Lorenzo, that the physician who attended him on
his deathbed, terrified to return to Florence, left the
house in a state of distraction, and plunged himself into
a well. When Ferdinand king of Naples was inform¬
ed of his death, he cried out, “ This man has lived
long enough for his own glory, but too short a time for
Italy.” He died on the 8th of April 1492, amidst a
number of his weeping friends, who appeared deeply
conscious of such an irreparable loss.
Medicis, John de, on account of his bravery and
knowledge in military affairs, was surnamed the Invin¬
cible. He was the son of John, otherwise called Jour-
dain, de Medicis. His only son Cosmo I. styled the
Great, was chosen duke of Florence after the murder
of Alexander de Medicis, A. F>. 1537. He first car¬
ried arms under Laurence de Medicis against the duke,
of Urbino, afterwards under Pope Leo X. Upon the
death of Leo, he entered into the service of Francis I.
which he quitted to follow the fortune of Francis Sfor-
za duke of Milan. When Francis I. formed an alliance
with the pope and the Venetians against the emperor,,
he re.turned to his service. He was wounded in the
knee at Governola, a small town in the Mantuan ter¬
ritory, by a musket ball j and being carried to Mantua,
he died the 29th of November 1526, aged 2& Bran-
tome relates, that when his leg was to be cut off, and
when he was informed that he needed some person to
support him, “ Proceed without fear (said he), I need
nobody !” and he held the candle himself during the
operation. This anecdote is also mentioned by Yarchi.
John de Medicis was above the middle stature, strong,
and nervous. His soldiers, to express their affection for
him and their concern for his loss, assumed a mourning
dress and standards, which gave the name of the black
band to the Tuscan troops whom he commanded.
Medicis, Laurence or Laurencin de, was descended
from a brother of Cosmo the Great, and affected the
name of popular. In 1537, he killed Alexander de
Medicis, whom Charles V. had made duke of Florence,
and who was believed to be the natural son of
Laurence de Medicis duke of Urbino. He was jea¬
lous of Alexander’s power, and disguised this jealousy
under the specious pretext ol love to his country. He
loved men,of learning, and cultivated literature. His ,
works are, 1. Lamenti, Modena, i2mo. 2. Aculosio
Commedia, Florence 1595, l2mo. He died without
issue.
Medicis, Hypplitus de, natural son of Julian de
Medicis and, a lady of Urbino, was early remarkable
for the brilliancy of Ins wit and the graces of his per¬
son. Pope Clement VII. his cousin, made him car¬
dinal in 1 529, and sent him as legate into Germany
to the court of Charles V. When that prince went
into Italy, Medicis, yielding to his warlike disposition,
appeared^.
MED '[ 488
'VMiri, appeared in the dress of an officer, and advanced be-
fore the emperor, followed by several respectable gen¬
tlemen of the court. Charles, naturally suspicious, and
afraid that the legate intended to do him some ill
offices with the pope, sent after him and caused him
to be apprehended. But when he understood that it
was a mere sally of humour in the young cardinal, he
set him at liberty in a few days. The Character winch
Medicis obtained by the happy success of tins ap¬
pointment was of essential service to him. He was
considered as one of the Supports of the Holy See j
and a little before Clement’s death, when the corsair
Barbarossa made a descent into Italy to the great
terror of Rome, which was only defended by 200 of
the pope’s guards, Medicis was despatched to protect
the coasts from the fury of the barbarians. On his
arrival at the place of destination, he was fortunate
' enough to find that Barbarossa had withdrawn him¬
self at that critical moment; which allowed him to
claim the honour of the retreat without exposing his
person or his army. When he returned to Rome, he
was of great service in the election ol Paul HI. who
nevertheless refused to make him legate to Ancona,
though that office had been promised to him in the
conclave. Enraged also that the pope had bestowed
the principality of Florence on Alexander de Medicis,
slrpposed to be the natural son of Laurence duke of
Urbino, he was prompted by his ambition to believe
that he might succeed to that dignity by the destruc¬
tion of Alexander. He entered into a conspiracy
against him, and determined to Carry him off by a
mine *, but the plot was discovered before he had ac¬
complished his purpose. Octavian Zanga, one ot his
guards, was arrested &s his chief accomplice. Hy-
politus de Medicis, apprehensive for his own safety,
retired to a castle near Tivoli. On his road to Naples,
he fell sick at Itri in the territory of Fondi, and died
August 13. 1535, in his 24th year, not Without suspi¬
cion of being poisoned. His house Was an asylum for
the unfortunate, and frequently for those who were
guilty of the blackest crimes. It Was open to men of
all nations j and he was frequently addressed in twenty
different languages. He had a natural son named As-
drubal de Medicis, who was a knight of Malta. This
anecdote proves that his manners were more military
than ecclesiastic. He Wore a sword, and never put on
the habit of cardinal except on occasions of public cere¬
mony. He was wholly devoted to the theatre, hunt¬
ing, and poetry.
Medicis, Alexander de, first duke of Florence in
'153°, was natural son of Laurence de Medicis, sur-
nanaed the Younger, and nephew of Pope Clement VII.
He owed his elevation to the intrigues of his uncle
and to the arms of Charles V. This prince having
made himself master of Florence after an obstinate
siege, conferred the sovereignty of this city on Alex¬
ander, and afterwards gave him in marriage Margaret
of Austria his natural daughter. According to the
terms of capitulation granted to the Florentines, the
new duke was to be only hereditary doge, and his
authority was tempered by councils; which left them
at least a shadow of their ancient liberty. But Alex¬
ander, who felt himself supported by the emperor and
the pope, was no sooner in possession of his new dig¬
nity, than he began to govern like a tyrant j being
- 3
1
MED
guided by no law hut his own caprice, indulging the Medi(,.
most brutal passions, and making light of dishonour- Medieta
ing families, and of violating even die asylum of the'-—v-
cloisters to gratify his lust. Among the confidants of
his debauchery wras a relation of his own, Laurence
de Medicis. This young man, who was only 22 years
of age, at the instigation of Philip Stroz/.i, a zealous
republican, conceived the design of assassinating Alex¬
ander, and thereby of delivering his country from op¬
pression. From the moment when he first became at¬
tached to him, he tried to gain his confidence, for no
other reason but that he might the better have it in
his power to take away his life. A considerable time
elapsed before he found such an opportunity as he de¬
sired. At length, under pretence of procuring the
duke a tete d tSte with a lady of whom he was deeply
enamoured, he brought him alone and unattended into
his chamber, and put him under his bed. He went
out, under pretence of introducing the object of his
passion ; and returned along with an assassin by profes¬
sion, to whom alone he had entrusted his design, only
to stab him. This cruel scene happened on the night
betwixt the 5th and 6th of January 1537. Alexander
was only 26 years of age. The Florentines derived no
advantage from this crime of Laurence, for they failed
in their attempt to recover their liberty. The party of
the Medicis prevailed, and Alexander was succeeded
by Cosmo : whose government, it must be confessed,
was as just and moderate, as that of his predecessoi
had been violent and tyrannical. Laurence de Me
dicis fled to Venice, to some of the leaders of the
malecontents at Florence, who had taken refuge there
but not thinking himself in sufficient security, he
went to Constantinople, whence he returned some
time after to Venice. He was there assassinated in
1547, ten years after the duke’s murder, by two soldiers,
one of whom had formerly been in Alexander’s guards •
And these soldiers were generous enough to refuse a
considerable sum of money, which was the price put
upon his head.
Medicis, Cosmo de, grand duke of Tuscany, joined
Charles V. against the French, after trying in vain
to continue neutral. As a reward for his services, the
emperor added to the duchy of Tuscany Piombino, the
isle of Elba, and other states. Cosmo soon after re¬
ceived from Pope Pius IV. the title of grand duke,
and had it not been opposed by all the princes of Italy,
this pontiff, who was entirely devoted to Cosmo, be¬
cause he had thought proper to acknowledge him to be
of his house, would have conferred on him the title of
king. There never was a more zealous patron of learn¬
ing. Ambitious of imitating the second Caesar, lie like
him, was fond of learned men, kept them near his
person, and founded for them the university of Pisa.
He died in 1574, at the age of 55, after governing
with equal ivisdom and glory. In 1562 he instituted
the military order of St Stephen. His son, Francis
Mary who died in 1587, was the father of Mary of
Medicis, the wife of Henry the Great and of Ferdinand!,
who died in 1608.
MEDIETAS lingua, in Law, signifies a jury, or
inquest impanelled, of which the one half are natives
of this land and the other foreigners. This jury is
never used except where one of the parties in a plea is
a stranger and the other a denizen. In petit treason,
murder,
MED [ 489 ] M E D
% ietas murder, and felony, foreigners are allowed this privi-
|] lege; but not in high treason, because an alien in that
? Hna. case shall be tried according to the rules of the com-
^ ' mon law, and not by a medietas linguen. A grand
jar/ ought not in any case to be of a medietas lingua: ;
and the person that would have the advantage of a
trial in this way, is to pray the same, otherwise it will
not be permitted on a challenge of the jurors.
MEDIMNUS, in Grecian antiquity, a measure of
capacity. See Measure.
MEDINA TALNARI, a famous town of Arabia
Petrtea, between Arabia Deserta and Arabia the Hap¬
py \ celebrated for being the burial-place of Maho¬
met. It stands at a day’s journey from the port of
lambo. It is of moderate size, surrounded by wretch¬
ed walls, and situated in the midst of a sandy plain. It
belongs to the scherif of Mecca, although it had of
late times a particular sovereign of the family of Da-
cii Barkad. At present the government is confided
by the scherif to a vizir, who must be taken from the
family of the sovereign. Before Mahomet, this city
was called lathreb ; but it got the name of Medinet
en Nebbi, “ the City of the Prophet,” after Maho¬
met, being driven from Mecca by the Koreischites,
had taken refuge there, and passed in it the rest of
his days. The tomb of Mahomet at Medina is re¬
spected by Mussulmans, but they are under no obli¬
gation to visit it for the purposes of devotion. The
caravans of Syria and Egypt alone, which on their
return from Mecca pass near Medina, go a little out
of their way to see the tomb. It stands in a corner
of the great square, whereas the Kaba is situated in
the middle of that at Mecca. That the people may
not perform some superstitious worship to the relics of
the prophet, they are prevented from approaching the
tomb by gates, through which they may look at it.
It consists of a piece of plain mason work in the form
of a chest, without any other monument. The tomb
is placed between two others, where the ashes of the
two first caliphs repose. Although it is not more mag¬
nificent than the tombs of the greater part of the
founders of mosques, the building that covers it is de¬
corated with a piece of green silk stuff embroidered
with gold, which the pacha of Damascus renews every
seven years. It is guarded by 40 eunuchs, who watch
the treasure said to be deposited there. It is seated in
a plain abounding with palm trees, in E. Long. 57. 10.
N. Lat. 25. See (History of} Arabia.
Medina Cell, an ancient town of Spain, in Old
Castile, and capital of a considerable duchy ol the same
name} seated near the river Xalon, in W. Long. 2. 9.
N. Lat. 41. 15.
Medina de-las-Torres, a very ancient town of Spain,
in Estremadura, with an old castle, and the title of a
duchy. It is seated on the confines of Andalusia, at
the foot of a mountain near Badajoz.
MsDlNA-del-CampOj a large, rich, and ancient town
of Spain, in the kingdom of Leon. rI he great square
is very fine, and adorned with a superb fountain. It
is a trading place, enjoys great privileges, and is seated
in a country abounding with corn and wine. \V. Long*
4. 20. N. Lat. 41. 22.
MEDiNA-del-rio-Secco, an ancient and rich town of
Spain, in the kingdom of Leon, with the title of a
Vol. XIII. Part II. i
duchy: seated on a plain, remarkable for its fine pas- Medina
tures. E. Long. 4. 33. N. Lat. 42. 8. |j
MEDINA, Sir John, an eminent painter, was sou Mediola-
of Medina de I’Asturias, a Spanish captain, who set-, 11 um'
tied at Brussels, where the son was born in 1660. He
was instructed in painting by Du Chatel; under whose
direction he made great progress 5 and applying himself
to the study of Rubens, made that eminent master his
principal model. He painted both history and por¬
trait ; and was held in extraordinary esteem by most of
the princes of Germany, who distinguished his merit bv
several marks of honour. He married young, and
came into England in 1686, where he drew portraits
for several years with great reputation 5 as he painted
those subjects with remarkable freedom of touch, a de¬
licate management of tints, and strong resemblance of
the persons. The earl of Leven encouraged him to go
to Scotland, and procured him a subscription of 500I.
worth of business. He went, carrying a large number
of bodies and postures, to which he painted heads. He
returned to England for a short time; but went back
to Scotland, where he died, and v^as buried in the
churchyard of the Grayfriars at Edinburgh, in 1711,
aged 52. He painted most of the Scotch nobility.
Two small history pieces, and the portraits of the pro¬
fessors, in the Surgeons Hall at Edinburgh, were also
painted by him. At Wentworth castle is a large piece
containing the first duke of Argyll and his sons, the
two late dukes John and Archibald, in Roman habits ;
the style Italian, and superior to most modern perform¬
ers. The duke of Gordon presented Sir John Medina’s
head to the great duke of Tuscany for his collection of
portraits done by the painters themselves *, the duke of
Gordon too was drawn by him, with his son the mar¬
quis of Huntly and his daughter Lady Jane, in one
piece. Medina was knighted by the duke of Queens-
berry, lord high commissioner ) and was the last knight
made in Scotland before the union* The prints in the
octavo edition of Milton were designed by him : and
he composed another set for Ovid’s Metamorphoses,
but they were never engraved.
MEDINE, an Egyptian piece of money of iron
silvered over, and about the size of a silver threepence.
MEDIOLANUM, an ancient city, the capital of
the Insubres, built by the Gauls on their settlement in
that part of Italy ; a municipium, and a place of great
strength ; and a seat of the liberal arts ; whence it had
the name of Novce Athence. Now Milan, capital of
the Milanese, situated on the rivers Olana and Lombro.
E. Long. 9. 30. N. Lat. 45. 25.
Mediolanum Aulercorum, in Ancient Geography, a
totvn of Gallia Celtica, which afterwards took the name
of the Eburovicum Civitas (Antonine) ; corrupted to
Civitas Ebroicorum, and this last to Ebroica ; whence
the modern appellation Evreux, a city of Normandy.
E. Long. 1. 12. N. Lat. 49. 41.
Mediolanum Gugernorum, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Gallia Belgica ; now the village Moyland, not
far from Cologne.
Mediolanum Ordovicum, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Britain, now Llan Vethhn, a market town of
Montgomeryshire in Wales.
Mediolanum Santonum, in Ancient Geography,
which afterwards taking the name of the people, was
3 Q called
M E D
Mediola- called Santonica Urbs ; also Santoncs and Santoni: A
num town of Aquitaine. Now Saintesy capital of Saintonge
II in Guienne, on the river Charente. _
Medium. MEDIOMATRICI, anciently a territoiy of Bef-
gica. Now the diocese of Metz.
MEDITATION, an act by which we consider any
thing closely, or wherein the soul is employed in the
search or consideration of any truth. In our religion,
it is used to signify a consideration of the objects and
grand truths of the Christian faith.
Mystic divines make a great difference between me¬
ditation and contemplation : the former consists in dis¬
cursive acts of the soul, considering methodically and
with attention the mysteries of faith and the precepts
of morality 5 and is performed by reflections and rea¬
sonings, which leave behind them manifest impressions
on the brain. The pure contemplative have no need
of meditation, as seeing all things in God at a glance,
and without any reflection. When a man, therefore,
has once quitted meditation, and is arrived at contem¬
plation, he returns no moi'e j and, according to Alvarez,
never resumes the oar of meditation, except when the
wind of contemplation is too weak to fill his sails.
MEDITERRANEAN, something enclosed within
land; or that is remote from the ocean.
Mediterranean is more particularly used to signify
that large sea which flows between the continents of
Europe and Africa, entering by the straits of Gibraltar,
and reaching into Asia, as far as the Euxine sea and
the Palus Mseotis.
The Mediterranean was anciently called the Grecian
sea and the Great sea. It is now cantoned out in se¬
veral divisions, which bear several names. To the west
of Italy it is called the Ligustic or Tuscan sea ; near
\ enice, the Adriatic ; towards Greece, the Ionic and
JEgean ; between the Hellespont and the Bosphorus,
the White sea, as being very safe 5 and beyond, the
Black sea, its navigation being dangerous.
The British trade carried on by means of the Me¬
diterranean sea, is of the last consequence to Great
Britain ; and the permanent preservation thereof de¬
pends on the possession of the town and fortification of
Gibraltar.
1 he counterfeiting of Mediterranean passes for ships
to the coast of Barbary, &c. or the seal of the admiral¬
ty office to such passes, is felony, without benefit of
clergy. Stat. 4. Geo. II. c. 18.
MEDITRINALIA, a Roman festival in honour
oi the goddess Meditrina, kept on the 30th of Sep¬
tember. Both the deity and the festival were so called
<2 medendo, because on this day they began to drink new
wine mixed with old by way of medicine. The mix¬
ture of wines, on this festival, was drank with much
form and solemn ceremony.
MEDi rULLIUM, is used by anatomists for that
spongy substance between the two plates of the cranium,
and in the interstices of all laminated bones. See Ana¬
tomy, N° 1. 11.
MEDIUM, in Logic, the mean or middle term of
a syllogism, being an argument, reason, or consideration,
tor which we affirm or deny any thing j or, it is the
cause why the greater extreme is affirmed or denied of
the less in the conclusion.
Medium, in Arithmetic, or arithmetical medium or
ineun, called m the schools medium rei $ that which is
MED
equally distant from each extreme, or which exceeds the ..
lesser extreme as much as it is exceeded by the greater, ||1U8
in respect of quantity, not of proportion $ thus 9 is a Medusa
medium betwixt 6 and 12. v,,-,"r*
Geometrical Medium, called in the schools medium
persorue, is that where the same ratio is preserved, be¬
tween the first and second as between the second and
third terms, or that which exceeds in the same ratio
or quota of itself, as it is exceeded : thus 6 is a geome¬
trical medium metween 4 and 9.
Medium, in Philosophy, that space or region through
which a body in motion passes to any point: thus
sether is supposed to be the medium through which
the heavenly bodies move ; air, the medium wherein
bodies move near our earth ; water, the medium wherein
fishes live and move ; and glass is also a medium of
light, as it affords it a free passage. That density or
consistency in the parts of the medium, whereby the
motion of bodies in it get retarded, is called the resist¬
ance of the medium ; which, together with the force of
gravity, is the cause of the cessation of the motion of
projectiles.
Subtle or /Ethereal Medium. Sir Isaac Newton
considers it probable, that, beside the particular aerial
medium, wherein w’e live and breathe, there is another
more universal one, which he calls an cetherealmedium ;
vastly more rare, subtle, elastic, and active, than air,
and by that means freely permeating the pores and
interstices of all other mediums, and diffusing itself
through the whole creation; and by the intervention
hereof he thinks it is that most of the great phenomena
of nature are effected. See ./Ether, Electricity,
Fire, &c.
Medium, in optics, any substance through which
light is transmitted.
MEDLAR, see Mespilus, Botany Index.
MEDULLA ossium, or Marrow of the bones. See
Anatomy, N° 5.
Medulla cerebri and cerebelli, denotes the white soft
part of the brain and cerebellum, covered on the outside
with the cortical substance, which is of a more dark or
ashy colour. See Anatomy, N° 13 i—133.
Medulla oblongata, is the medullary part of the
brain and cerebellum, joined in one \ the fore part of it
coming from the brain, and the hind part from the ce¬
rebellum. See Anatomy, N° 134.
It lies on the basis of the skull, and is continued
through the great perforation thereof into the hollow of
the vertebrae of the neck, back, and loins 5 though only
so much of it retains the name oblongata as is included
within the skull. After its exit thence it is distinguish¬
ed by the name of medulla spinalis. Ibid. N° 135.
MEDUSA, in fabulous history, one of the three
Gorgons, daughter of Phorcys and Ceto. She was the
only one of the Gorgons who wTas subject to mortality.
She is celebrated for her personal charms and the beau¬
ty of her locks. Neptune became enamoured of her,
and obtained her favours in the temple of Minerva.
This violation of the sanctity of the temple provoked
Minerva ; and she changed the beautiful locks of Me¬
dusa, which had inspired Neptune’s love, into serpents,
the sight of which turned the beholders into stones : but
Perseus, armed withMercury’s axe, with which he killed
Argus, cut oil’Medusa’s head, from whose blood sprang
Pegasus and Chrysaor, together with the innumerable
serpents
[ 49° 1
isa
•en.
M E E [ 491 ] MEG'
serpents that infest Africa. The conqueror placed Me¬
dusa’s head on the aegis of Minerva, which he had used
in his expedition j and the head still retained the same
' petrifying powers as before.
Medusa, a genus of vermes, belonging to the order
of mollusoa. See Helminthology Index.
MEDWAY, a river of England, rises in the Weald
of Sussex, and entering Kent near Ashurst, runs by
Tunbridge, and thence continues its course towards
Maidstone. It is navigable for large ships to Rochester
bridge, and thence for vessels and barges to Maidstone,
the tide flowing up to that town. The distance between
the mouth of this river, where the fort at Sheerness is
erected, and Rochester bridge, is between 16 and 18
miles. In this part of the river, the channel is so deep,
the banks so soft, and the reaches so short, that it
is one of the best and safest harbours in the world ; and
ships of 80 guns ride afloat at low water, within mus¬
ket shot of Rochester bridge. Nor is there a single in¬
stance upon record, that any of the royal navy ever
suffered here by storms, except in the dreadful tempest
which happened in November 1703, when the Royal
Catherine was sunk and lost. On the shore of this river
are two castles, one at Upnor, which guards two reaches
of the river, and is supposed to defend all the ships
which ride above, between that and the bridge ; on the
other side of the river is Gillingham castle, built for
the same purpose, and well lurnished with cannon,
which commands the river. Besides these, there is a
platform of guns at a place called the Swan, and an¬
other at Cockhamwood. But the principal fortification
on this river is the castle at Sheeniess.
MEEREN, or Meer, John Vander, called the
Old, an esteemed painter, was born in 1627. He chose
for his subjects sea pieces, landscapes, and views of the
sea and its shores j which he painted with great truth,
as he had accustomed himself to sketch every scene af¬
ter nature. The situations of his landscapes are agree¬
ably chosen, frequently they are solemn, and generally
pleasing. The forms of his trees are easy and natural,
his distances well observed, and the whole scenery has
a striking eflect, by a happy opposition of his lights and
shadows. He also painted battles in an agreeable
style, as they showed good composition, were touched
with spirit, and had a great deal of transparence in the
colouring. He died in 1690.
Meeren, or Meer, John Vander, called De Jonghe,
an eminent landscape painter, is supposed to have been
the son of the old John ander Meer, and of whom
he learned the first rudiments of the art} but being
in his youth deprived of his instructor before he had
made any great progress, he became a disciple of Ni¬
cholas Berghem, and was accounted the best of those
Avho were educated in the school of that admired mas¬
ter. In the manner of his master, he painted land¬
scapes and cattle j and his usual subjects are cottages,
with peasants at their rural occupations and diversions.
It is observed of him, that he very rarely introduced
cows, horses, or any other species of animals, except
goats and sheep j the latter of which are so highly fi¬
nished, that one would imagine the wool might be felt
by the softness of its appearance. His touch is scarce
perceptible, and yet the colours are admirably united.
He died in 1688. The genuine works of this Vander
Meer bear a verv high price, and are esteemed even in
Italy, where they are admitted into the best collections; Meeren
but the scarcity of them has occasioned many moderate 11
copies after his works to be passed on the undiscerning , Mcganu
for real originals.
MEGALE polis, in Ancient Geography, dividedly
(Ptolemy, Pausania) or conjunctly Megalopolis, (Stra¬
bo) : A towrn of Arcadia, built under the auspices of
Epaminondas, after the battle of Leuctra ; many in¬
considerable towns being joined together in one great
city, the better to withstand the Spartans. It was the
greatest city of Arcadia, according to Strabo.
MEGALESIA, and Megalenses Ludi, feasts and
games in honour of Cybele or Rhea the mother of the
gods, kept on the 12th of April by the Romans, and
famous for great rejoicings and diversions of various
sorts. The Galli carried the image of the goddess along
the city, with sound of drums and other music, in imi¬
tation of the noise they made to prevent Saturn from
hearing the cries of his infant son Jupiter, when he was
disposed to devour him.
MEGARA, in Ancient Geography, a noble city,
and the capital of the territory of Megaris, which for
many years carried on war with the Corinthians and
Athenians. It had for some time a school of philo-
sophers, called the Megarici, successors of Euclid the
Socratic, a native of Megara. Their dialect was the
Doric 5 changed from the Attic, which it formerly
had been, because of Peloponnesian colonists who settled
there.
Megara was situated at a distance from the sea, about
midway between Athens and Corinth. Its port wTas cal¬
led Niscea, from Nisus son of Pandion the second, who
obtained Megaris for his portion, when the kingdom of
Athens wTas divided into four lots by his father. He
founded the town, which was eighteen stadia or two
miles and a quarter from the city, but united with it,
as the Piraeus with Athens, by long walls. It had a
temple of Ceres. “ The roof (says Pausanias) may be
supposed to have fallen through age.” I he site (as Dr
Chandler informs us*) is now covered with rubbish,
among which are standing some ruinous churches. I lie^
place has been named from them Dode Ecclesiais, “ rJ he
Twelve Churches but the number is reduced to seven.
The acropolis or citadel, called also Niscea, was on a
rock by the sea side. Some pieces of the wall remain,
and a modern fortress has been erected on it, and also
on a lesser rock near it.
The village Megara (continues the doctor) consists
of low mean cottages pleasantly situated on the slope
of a brow or eminence indented in the middle. On
each side of this vale was an acropolis or citadel; one
named Cana 5 the other from Alcathous, the builder
of the wall. They related, that he was assisted by A -
pollo, who laid his harp aside on a stone, which,
as Pausanias testifies, il struck with a pebble returned
a musical sound. An angle of the wall of one citadel
is seen by a windmill. The masonry is oi the species
called Incertum. In 1676 the city wall was not en¬
tirely demolished, but comprehended the two sum¬
mits, on which are some churches, with a portion ot
the plain toward the south. The whole site, except
the hills, was now green with corn, and parked by
many heaps of stones, the collected rubbish of build¬
ings A few inscriptions are found, with pedestals fix¬
ed in the wails and inverted j and also some maimed or
^ Q 3 mutilated
MEG
flflegara,
Megaris.
mutilated statues. One of the former relates to Atti-
cus Herodes, and is on a pedestal which supported a
; statue erected to him when consul, A. D. 143. by the
council and people of Megara, in return for his bene¬
factions and good will toward the city. In the plain
behind the summits, on one of which was a temple of
Minerva, is a large basin of water, with scattered frag¬
ments of marble, the remains of a bath or of a fountain,
which is recorded as in the city, and remarkable for
its size and ornaments, and for the number of its co¬
lumns. The spring was named from the local nymphs
called Sithnides.
The stone of Megara was of a kind not discovered
any where else in Hellas 5 very white, uncommonly
soft, and consisting entirely of cockle shells. This was
chiefly used ; and, not being durable, may be reckoned
among the causes of the desolation at Megara, which
is so complete, that one searches in vain for vestiges of
the many public edifices, temples, and sepulchres, which
once adorned the city.
Megara was engaged in various wars with Athens
and Corinth, and Experienced many vicissitudes of for¬
tune. It was the only one of the Greek cities which
did not reflourish under their common benefactor Ha¬
drian and the reason assigned is, that the avenging
anger of the gods pursued the people for their impiety
in killing Anthemocritus, a herald, who had been sent
to them in the time of Pericles. The Athenian ge¬
nerals were sworn on his account to invade them tw?ce
a-year. Hadrian and Atticus w’ere followed by an¬
other friend, whose memory is preserved by an inscrip-
tmn on a stone lying near a church in the village : —
This too is the work of the most magnificent count
Diogenes son of Archelaus, who regarding the Gre¬
cian cities as his own family, has bestowed on that of
the Megarensians one hundred pieces of gold towards
the building of their towers, and also one hundred
and fifty more, with two thousand two hundred feet of
marble toward re-edifying the bath 5 deeming nothing
more honourable than to do good to the Greeks, and
to restore their cities.” This person is not quite unno¬
ticed in history. He was one of the generals employ¬
ed by the emperor Anastasius on a rebellion in Isauria.
Me surprised the capital Claudiopolis, and sustained a
siege with great bravery, A. D. 494.
. Megaf retains its original name. It has been much
infested by corsairs ; and in 1676 the inhabitants were
accustomed on seeing a boat approach in the day time
01 hearing then- dogs bark at night, immediately "to se-
crete their effects and run away. The vaiwode or
I ui'Kish governor, who resided in a forsaken tower
dor tl hCyi a8T’ WafT?ttce carHed off- It is no won¬
der, therefore, that Nxsaea has been long abandoned.
1 place was burned by the Venetians in 1687.
Anc*en{ Geography, formerly called
a town towards the east coast of Sicily ; extinct
m Strabo s time, though the name Hybla remained on
account of the excellence of its honey. It was a colo¬
ny of Megareans from Greece if • ,
notes a horse laugh. <!«-
[ 492 1
M E L
to Ionia or Attica, until it was taken by the Pelopon¬
nesians in the reign of Codrus, when a colony of Do¬
rians settled in k. This territory had Attica to the
east, Boeotia to the north and west, and the isthmus of'
Corinth to the south.
Megaris, a small island in the Tuscan sea, joined
to Naples by a bridge, now called Costello delPOvo.
MEGA STB ENES, a Greek historian in the age
of Seleucus Nicanor, about 300 years before Christ.
He wrote about the oriental nations, and particularly
the Indians. His history is often quoted by the an¬
cients. \\ hat now passes as his composition is spu¬
rious.
Mr?aris (
Mela.
1
MEGIDDO, in Ancient Geography, a town of Ga¬
lilee, recited (Joshua xvii. 11.) among the cities of Ma-
nasseh, in the tribe of Issachar or Asser, on the west side
of Jordan 5 famous for the defeat of Ahaziah and Josiah,
who perished there (2 Kings xxiii. 29.) : near it wras
an open plain, fit for drawing up an army in battle ar¬
ray. It was situated to the north, contrary to its po¬
sition in the common maps. The Canaanites, being
tributary to the Israelites, dwTelt in it, Joshua xvii.—i-
It was rebuilt by Solomon, 1 Kings ix.
MEIBOMIUS, the name of several learned Ger¬
mans.—John Henry Meibotnius was professor of physic
at Helmstadt, where he was born, and at Lubec; he
Avrote the Eifeof Maecenas, published at Eeyden in 4to,
1653, Avith several other learned works. Henry, his
son, Avas born at Lubec in 1638 ; became professor of
physic at Helmstadt ; and, besides works in his own
profession, published Scriptores rerum Germanicarum,
3 vols. folio, 1688 5 a very useful collection, first be¬
gun by his father.—Marcus Meibotnius, of the same fa¬
mily, published a collection of seven Greek authors who
had written upon ancient music, with a Latin version
by himself, dedicated to Queen Christina of Sweden,
Avho invited him to her court. But she engaging him
one day to sing an air of ancient music, while somebody
Avas ordered to dance to it, the immoderate mirth
which this occasioned in the spectators so disgusted him,
that he immediately left the court of Sweden. His edi¬
tion of the Greek mythologists, and notes upon Dioge¬
nes Laertius in Menage’s edition, show him to have
been a man of learning; but he suffered no little rail¬
lery for his attempt to correct the Hebrew text of the
Bible, by a kind of metre he fancied he had found out
in those ancient writings.
MEISSEN, a considerable town of Germany, in the
electorate of Saxony, and in the margravate of Misnia,
with a castle It formerly belonged to the bishop, but
is noAv secularized, and the inhabitants are Lutherans.
In this place is a famous manufactory of porcelain.
E. Long. 13. 27. N. Lat. 51. 19.
MEL, Honey, in the Materia Medico. See Ho¬
ney.
MELA, Pomponius, an ancient Latin writer, was
born in the province of Baetica in Spain, and flourish¬
ed in the reign of the emperor Claudius. His three
books of Cosmography, or Lie situ orbis, are Avritten in
a concise, perspicuous, and elegant manner ; and have
been thought worthy of the attention and labours of
the ablest critics. Isaac Vossius gave an edition of
them in J658, 4to, Avith very large and copious notes,
lo this edition is added, Julii Honorii oratoris excerp-
tum cosmogrupkue, first published from the manuscript,'
and
MEL [ 493 j MEL
jj k ami JEchici cosmograpkia. Gronovius afterwards pub¬
lished another edition with illustrations by medals. In
M«1 py- his last edition are added five books, De Geographia,
n ^ written by some later author ; by Jornandes, as Fabri-
cius conjectures.
MEL/ENE, or Black Flux, in Medicine. See
Medicine, N° 409.
MELALEUCA, a genus of plants belonging to the
polydelphia class. See Botany Index.
MELAMPOBIUM, a name given to black helle¬
bore. See Helleborus, Botany Index.
Melampodium, a genus of plants belonging to the
syngenesia class j and in the natural method ranking
under the 49th order, Compositee. See Botany Index.
MELAMPUS, in fabulous history, a celebrated
soothsayer and physician of Argos, son of Amythaon
and Idomenea or Dorippe. He lived at Pylos in Pelo¬
ponnesus. His servants once killed two large serpents
who had made their nests at the bottom of a large oak j
and Mel am pus paid so much regard to their remains,
that he raised a burning pile and burned them upon it.
He also took particular care of their young ones, and
fed them with milk. Some time after this, the young
serpents crept to Melampus as lie slept on the grass near
the oak j and, as if sensible of the favours of their be¬
nefactor, they wantonly played around him, and softly
licked his ears. This awoke Melampus, who was
astonished at the sudden change which his senses had
undergone. He found himself acquainted with the
chirping of the birds, and with all their rude notes, as
they flew around him. He took advantage of this
supernatural gift, and soon made himself perfect in the
knowledge of futurity, and Apollo also instructed him
in the art of medicine. He had soon after the hap¬
piness of curing the daughters of Proetus, by giving
them hellebore, wdiich from that circumstance has been
called melampodium ; and, as a reward for his trouble,
he married the eldest of these princesses. The tyranny
of his uncle Neleus, king of Pylos, obliged him to
leave his native country; and Proetus, to show himself
more sensible of his services, gave him part of his king¬
dom. About this time the personal charms of Pero,
the daughter of Neleus, had gained many admirers ;
but the father promised his daughter only to him who
brought into his hands the oxen ol Iphiclus. This con¬
dition displeased many j but Bias, wbo was also one of
her admirers, engaged his brother Melampus to steal
the oxen and deliver them to him. Melampus was
caught in the attempt, and imprisoned j and nothing
but his services as a soothsayer and physician to Iphiclus
would have saved him from death. All this pleaded
in the favour of Melanjpus ; but when he had taught
the childless Iphiclus how to become a father, he not
only obtained his liberty, but also the oxen 5 and with
them he compelled Neleus to give Pero in marriage to
Bias. A severe distemper, which had rendered the
women of Argos insane, was totally removed by Me¬
lampus ; and Anaxagoras, who then sat on the throne,
rewarded his merit by giving him part of his kingdom,
where he established himself, and where his posterity
reigned during six successive generations. He received
divine honours after death, and temples were raised to
his memory.
MEL AM PY BUM, Cow-wheat, a genus of plants
belonging to the didynamia class 4 and in the natural
method ranking under the 40th order, Personatce. See Melam-
Botany Index. pjrmu
MELANCHOLY, a kind of delirium attended Jj
with gloomy thoughts, heaviness, and sorrow. See J ljj^l c"
Medicine, N° 327. u—y—p.
MELANCTHON, Philip, born at Bretten in
the Palatinate in 1495, was one of the wisest and most
able men of his age among the reformers, though of a
mild temper, and disposed to accommodate rather than
to inflame disputes. In his youth he made an admirable
progress in learning, and was made Greek professor at
Wittenberg in 1509. Here his lectures upon Homer
and the Greek text of St Paul’s Epistle to Titus, drew
to him a great number of auditors, and entirely e(laced
the contempt to which his low stature and mean ap¬
pearance had exposed him. Melancthon reduced the
sciences to systems 5 and acquired such reputation, that
he had sometimes 2500 auditors. He soon entered in¬
to an intimate friendship with Luther, who taught di¬
vinity in the same university j and in 1519 they went
together to Leipsic, to dispute with Eccius. The fol¬
lowing years he was continually engaged in various
employments ; he composed several hooks ; he taught
divinity ; took several journeys, in order to found col¬
leges and visit churches 5 and in 1530 drew up a con¬
fession of faith, which goes by the name of the Conjis-
sion of Augsburg, because it was presented to the empe¬
ror at the diet held in that city. All Europe was con¬
vinced that he was not, like Luther, backward to ac¬
commodate the differences between the various sects ot
Christians. He hated religious disputes, and was drawn
into them only through the necessity ol the part he was
called to act in the world j and therefore would have
sacrificed many things to have produced an union among
the Protestants. For this reason, Francis I. the I reach
king, wrote to desire him to come and confer with the
doctors of the Sorbonne, in order to agree with them
about putting an end to all controversies; but though
Luther endeavoured to persuade the Hector of Saxony
to consent to that journey, and though Melancthon
himself desired it, that prince, whether he distrusted
Melancthon’s moderation, or was afraid of quarrelling
with the emperor Charles V. would never grant his
permission. The king of England also in vain de¬
sired to see him. Melancthon, in 1529, assisted at
the conferences of Spires. In 154L be was at the fa¬
mous conferences at Batisbon. In I543> be went to
meet the archbishop of Cologne to assist him in introdu¬
cing the reformation into his diocese ; but that project
came to nothing: and in 154^ be assisted at seven
conferences on the subject ol the interim of Charles "V.
and wrote a censure on that interim, and all the writ¬
ings presented at these conferences. He was extremely
affected at the dissensions raised by Flaccus Illyricus.
His last conference with those of the Roman commu¬
nion was at Worms, in 1557* ^Ie M itiefibmg
in 1560, and was interred near Luther, borne days
before he died, he wrote upon a piece of papei the ica-
sons which made him look upon death as a happiness j
that the chief of them was, that it “ delivered him from
theological persecutions.” Nature had given Melanc¬
thon a peaceable temper, which was but ill suited to the
time he was to live in. His moderation served only to^
he his cross. He was like a lamb in the midst of
wolves. Nobody liked his mildness 5 it looked as if he
~ was
MEL [ 494 ] M E L
Melanc- was lukewarm j and even Luther himself was sometimes
thou angry at it.
II . Melancthon was a man in whom many good as well
^dec1*6" as great yualiti63 were wonderfully united. He had
* ’, great parts, great learning, great sweetness of temper,
moderation, contentedness, and the like, which would
have made him very happy in any other times but
those in which he lived. He never affected dignities,
or honours, or riches, but was rather negligent of all
these things } too much so in the opinion of some, con¬
sidering he had a family j and his son-in-law Sabinus,
who was of a more ambitious temper, was actually at
variance with him upon this very account. Learning
was infinitely obliged to him on many accounts : on
none more than this, that, as already observed, he re¬
duced almost all the sciences which had been taught be¬
fore in a vague irregular manner into systems. Con¬
sidering the distractions of his life, and the infinity of
disputes and tumults in which he was engaged, it is
astonishing how he could find leisure to write so many
books. Their number is prodigious, insomuch that it
was thought necessary to publish a chronological cata¬
logue of them in the year 1582. His works indeed are
not correct, and he himself owned it: but as he found
them useful, he chose rather to print a great number,
than to finish only a few : “ which hoivever (as Bayle
says), was postponing his own glory to the advantage
of others.” His constitution was very weak, and re¬
quired great tenderness and management •, which made
Luther, as hot and zealous as he wras, blame him for la¬
bouring too earnestly in the vineyard.
MELAN1PPIDES, in fabulous history, a Greek
poet about 520 years before Christ. His grandson of
the same name, flourished about 60 years after at the
court of Perdiccas the Second, of Macedonia. Some
fragments of their poetry are still extant.
MELANTERIA, an old term in Natural History,
which seems to have been applied to copper pyrites.
The Greeks used it externally as a gentle escharotic
and a styptic, as an ingredient in their ointments for
old ulcers, and also to sprinkle in the form of powder
on fresh wounds, in order to stop the haemorrhage.
MELASSES. See Molasses.
MELASTOMA, the American Gooseberry-
tree, a genus of plants belonging to the decandria
class; and in the natural method ranking under the
17th order, Calycanthemce. See Botany Index.
MELCHA, a small village of Barbary, situated
about 30 miles from the city of Tunis, built on the ruins
of Carthage, some of which are still visible.
MELCHITES, in church history, the name given
to the Syriac, Egyptian, and other Christians of the
Levant. The Melchites, excepting some few points
of little or no importance, which relate only to ceremo¬
nies and ecclesiastical discipline, are in every respect
professed Greeks; but they are governed by a parti¬
cular patriarch, who resides at Damas, and assumes the
title of patriarch of Antioch. They celebrate mass in
the Arabian language. The religious among the Mel-
chites follow the rule of St Basil, the common rule of
all the Greek monks. They have four fine convents
distant about a day’s journey from Hamas, and never
go out of the cloister.
MELCHISEHEC, or Melchizedek, king of
-Salem, and priest of the Most High. The scripture tells
I
us nothing either of his father, or of his mother, or of jt(.i t
his genealogy, or of his birth, or of his death. And dec*
in this sense he wTas a figure of Jesus Christ, as St Paul’t-
affirms, who Is a priest forever, according to the order
of Melchisedec, and not according to the order of
Aaron, whose original, life, and death, are known.
When Abraham returned from pursuing the four con¬
federate kings, who had defeated the kings of Sodom
and Gomorrah, and had taken away Lot, Abraham’s
nephew, along with them (Gen. xiv. 17, 18, 19, &c.),
Melchisedec came to meet Abraham as far as the val¬
ley of Shaveh, who was afterwards named the King’s
valley, presented him with the refreshment of bread
and wine (or he offered bread and wine in sacrifice to
the Lord, for he was a priest of the most high God),
and blessed him. Abraham being desirous to acknow¬
ledge in him the quality of priest of the Lord, offered
him the tythes of all he had taken from the enemy.
After this time, there is no mention made of the person
of Melchisedec : only the Psalmist (cx. 4.) speaking of
the Messiah, says, “ Thou art a priest for ever after
the order of Melchisedec.” St Paul, in his epistle to
the Hebrews, unfolds the mystery which is concealed
in what is said of Melchisedec in the Old Testament.
See Heb. v. 6—10. An infinite number of difficulties
and scruples have been started on the subject of Mel¬
chisedec.—St Jerome thought that Salem, of which
Melchisedec was king, was not Jerusalem, but the city
of Salem near Scythopolis, where they still pretended
to show the ruins of the palace of this prince. The
greatness and extent of these ruins are a sufficient proof
of the magnificence of this ancient building. He thinks
it w7as at this city of Salem or Shalem, that Jacob ar¬
rived after his passage over Jordan, at his return from
Mesopotamia (Gen. xxxiii. 18.). Some believe that
Salem, where Melchisedec reigned, is the same as Sa¬
lim spoken of in the gospel of St John, chap. iii. 23.
From the time of Epiphanes, there were names in¬
vented for the father and mother of Melchisedec. To
his father was given the name of Heraclas or Hera¬
cles, and to his mother that of Ashtaroth or Astaria.
It is generally agreed on by the learned, that when
the apostle says, he was “ without father and without
mother,” no more is meant, than that he is introdu¬
ced into the history of Abraham without acquainting
us who he was, or whence he came, where he lived or
when he died. Nevertheless, some have taken St
Paul’s words literally, and contended that he was not
of human but divine nature. Origen and Hidymus
took him to be an angel ; and the author of the Ques¬
tions upon the Old and New Testaments pretends, that
he was the Holy Ghost, who appeared to Abraham in
a human form. rIhe Arabic Catena upon the ninth
chapter of Genesis, makes Melchisedec to be descend¬
ed from Shem by his father, and from Japheth by his
mother. Heraclas or Heraclim his father, w as, they
say, son or grandson of Phaleg, and son of Heber ; and
his mother, named Salathiel, was daughter of Gomer
son of Japheth. Cedrenus and others derive Melchi¬
sedec from an Egyptian stock. I hey say his lather
was called Sidon or Sida, and w;as the founder ot the
city of Sidon, the capital of Phoenicia.. Suidas says
he was of the cursed race of Canaan \ for which rea¬
son the scripture does not mention his genealogy. H16
Jews and Samaritans believed Melchisedec to be the
same
MEL [ 495 ] MEL
f Tlc jse- same with tlie patriarch Shem j which opinion has been
followed by a great number of modern writers. M.
— Jurieu has undertaken to prove that he is the same as
Cham or Ham. It would be endless to set down all
the opinions upon this matter : therefore we shall only
add, that Peter Cun ecus and Peter du Moulin have as¬
serted, that Melchisedec who appeared to Abraham was
the Son of God, and that the patriarch worshipped him
and acknowledged him for the Messiah.
About the beginning of the third century arose
the heresy of the Melchisedecians, wdio affirmed that
Melchisedec wras not a man, but a heavenly powrer,
superior to Jesus Christ: for Melchisedec, they said,
was the intercessor and mediator of the angels, but Je¬
sus Christ was so only for men, and his priesthood on¬
ly a copy of that of Melchisedec, who w’as the Holy
Ghost.
We shall only beg leave to add here one opinion
more concerning Melchisedec, which is that of the
learned Heidegger, who, as the author of the Hist.
Patriar. thinks, has taken the right method of ex¬
plaining the accounts of Moses and the apostle Paul
relating to this extraordinary person. He supposes a
twofold Melchisedec ; the one historical, whereof Moses
gives an account in the 14th chapter of Genesis, as that
he was king as well as high priest of Jerusalem; the
other allegorical, whom St Paul describes, and this alle¬
gorical person is Jesus Christ.
As the history of this prince and priest is so little
known, it is no wonder, as Selden observes, that many
fabulous accounts have been invented of him ; of which
the following may suffice as a specimen. Eutychus
patriarch of Alexandria relates, that the body of
Adam having been embalmed according to his order,
was deposited in a cave under a mountain of the chil¬
dren of Seth } but that Adam before his death had
commanded that they should take away his remains
from that place, and transport them to the middle of
the earth : that Noah, to follow the orders of his an¬
cestors, had preserved the bodies of Adam and all the
patriarchs with him in the ark : that finding himself
near his death, he ordered his son Shem to take the
body of Adam, to furnish himself with bread and wine
for his journey, to take with him Melchisedec the son
of Phaleg, and to go to the place in which an angel
would show them where to bury the first man : that
Noah added this order, “ Command Melchisedec to
fix his residence in that place, and to live unmarried
all his lifetime, because God has chosen him to do ser¬
vice in his presence ; command him, that he build no
temple, nor shed the blood of birds, nor four-footed
beasts, or any other animal; and that he offer no
other oblations to God but bread and wine.” This is
the reason, according to this author, why Melchisedec,
when he met Abraham, brought forth only bread and
wine.
A Greek author, under the name of Athanasius,
relates, that Melchisedec was the son of an idolatrous
king called Melchi and of a queen called Salem.—
Melchi, having resolved to offer a sacrifice to the gods,
sent his son Melchisedec to fetch him seven calves. In
the way the young prince was enlightened by God,
and immediately returned to his father, to demonstrate
to him the vanity of his idols. Melchi, in wrath, sent
him back to fetch the victims. While he was absent,
the king sacrificed his eldest son, and a great many Melchise-
other children, to his gods. Melchisedec returning, dec,
and conceiving great horror at this butchery, retired Melcomb-
to Mount Tabor, where he lived seven years, without, lc^ISj ,
clothes, and fed only on wild fruits. At the end of
seven years, God appeared to Abraham, bid him go
up to Mount Tabor, where he should find Melchisedec.
He ordered him to clothe him, and to ask his blessing ;
which Abraham having done, Melchisedec anointed
him with oil, and they came down together from the
mountain.
MELCOMB-regis, a town of Dorsetshire, in Eng¬
land, 130 miles from London, is situated at the mouth
of the river Wey, by which it is parted from Wey¬
mouth. It appears from the name to have been an¬
ciently the king’s demesne, and from the records to
have paid quit-rent to the crown all along after King
Edward I. till it was bought off by the inhabitants
before they were united to Weymouth. It lies on tlm
north side of the haven, on a peninsula surrounded by
the sea on all sides except on the north. The streets
are broad and well paved, and many of the houses
large and high. It sent members to parliament in the
r'eign of King Edward I. before Weymouth had that
privilege. It was by parliament appointed a staple in
the reign of Edward HI. In the next reign the
French burnt it ; and it was thereby rendered so de¬
solate, that the remaining inhabitants prayed and ob¬
tained a discharge from customs. On account of its
quarrels with Weymouth, in the reign of Henry VI.
its privileges as a port were removed to Pool: but in
that of Queen Elizabeth they were restored to it by act
of parliament, which was confirmed in the next reign,
on condition that Melcomb and Weymouth should
make but one corporation, and enjoy their privileges
in common ; and to this was owing the flourishing
state of both. In the two reigns last mentioned, a
wooden bridge with seventeen arches was built from
hence to Weymouth; to which, as well as its church,
the chief contributors were certain citizens of Lon¬
don ; and upon its decay it was rebuilt in 1770. Here
is a good market place and town-hall, to which the
members of the corporation of Weymouth come to
attend public business, as the inhabitants do to its
church for public worship. For several years past the
sea has retired from it on the east, the priory former¬
ly being bounded by the sea ; but there is now a street
beyond it, from which it is several paces to the high
water mark. The priory was situated in the east part
of the town, in Maiden street, whose site occupied
about an acre, now covered with tenements. On the
south side are the remains of the chapel, now convert¬
ed into a malt house. Near it are the remains of an
ancient building, formerly a nunnery. Here are three
meeting houses, and a workhouse for the poor. Ihe
church, which is in the middle of the town, has a
wooden turret for a bell, and had been an old chapel.
It was rebuilt in 1605, and made parochial, and is a
handsome fabric, with a beautiful altarpiece painted
and given by Sir James Thornhill. Ihe port, which
generally goes by the name of Weymouth, is said to
be the best frequented in the county, and is defended
by Sandford and Portland castles. The markets for
both towns are Tuesdays and Fridays, but there are no
fairs. In 1811 Melcomb contained 29.85 inhabitants,
Weymouth
MEL f 496 ] ME L
Melcomb- Weymouth 1747* They are now one corporation
regis and borough, consisting of a mayor, recorder, two
II bailiff's, an uncertain number of aldermen, and twenty-
Crjpj£a] burgesses. W boerer has been a mayor
-g ever after an alderman. They send four burgesses
to Parliament, who are elected by such as have free¬
holds, whether they are inhabitants or not 5 the num-
of voters is near ’joo. Every elector, as in London,
has the privilege of voting for four persons, who,
when chosen, are returned, in two distinct indentures,
as the burgesses of Weymouth and the burgesses ol
Melcomb-regis.
MELDiE, in Ancient Geography, a town of Gallia
Celtica, (called M.eldorum Civitas in the Notitia), on
the Matrona. Now Meaitx, a city of Champagne, on
the Marne, in France.
MELEAGER, in fabulous history, a celebrated he¬
ro, son of Oeneus king of Calydonia, by Althaea, daugh¬
ter of Thestius. The Parcae were present at the mo¬
ment of his birth, and predicted his future greatness.
Clotho said that he would be brave and courageous }
Laehesis foretold his uncommon strength and valour;
and Atropos said that he should live as long as that fire¬
brand, which was on the fire, remained entire and un¬
consumed. Althaea no sooner heard this, than she
snatched the stick from the fire, and kept it with the
most jealous care, as the life of her son totally depend¬
ed upon its preservation. The fame of Meleager in¬
creased with his years : lie signalized himself in the
Argonautic expedition, and afterwards delivered his
country from the neighbouring inhabitants, who made
war against his father at the instigation of Diana,
whose altars Oeneus had neglected. But Diana pu¬
nished the negligence of Oeneus by a greater calamity.
She sent a huge wild boar, which laid waste all the
country, and seemed invincible on account of its im¬
mense size. It became soon a public concern : all
the neighbouring princes assembled to destroy this
terrible animal : and nothing is more famous in my¬
thological history, than the hunting of the Calydonian
boar. The princes and chiefs that assembled, and
which are mentioned by mythologists, were Meleager
son of Oeneus, Idas and Lynceus sons of Apharcus,
Dryas son of Mars, Castor and Pollux sons of Jupi¬
ter and Leda, Pirithous son of Ixion, Theseus son of
iEgeus, Anceus and Cepheus sons of Lycurgus, Ad-
metus son of Pheres, Jason of iEson, Peleus and
Telamon sons of iEacus, Iphicles son of Amphitryon,
Eurytrion son of Actor, Atalanta daughter of Schoe-
neus, lolas the friend of Hercules, the sons of Thes¬
tius, Amphiaraus son of Oileus, Protheus, Cometes,
the brothers of Altluea Hippothous son of Cercyon,
Leucippus, Adrastus, Ceneus, Phileus, Echion, Lelex,
Phcenix son of Amyntor, Panopeus, Hyleus, Hippa-
sus, Nestor, Mencetius the father of Patroclus, Am-
phicides, Laertes the father of Ulysses, and the four
sons of Hippocoon. This troop of armed men attack¬
ed the boar, and it tvas at last killed by Meleager.—
The conqueror gave the skin and the head to Atalanta,
who had first wounded the animal. This irritated the
rest, and particularly Toxeus and Plexippus the bro¬
thers of Althaea, and they endeavoured to rob Ata¬
lanta of the honourable present. Meleager defended
her, and killed his uncles in the. attempt. Meantime
the news ol this celebrated conquest had already reach-
Z
ed Calydou, and Althaea went to the temple of the Melea|
gods to retiuyi thanks for the victory which her son P
had gained : But being informed that her brothers
had been killed by Meleager, she in a moment of re- y'
sentment threw into the fire the fatal stick on which
her son’s life depended, and Meleager died as soon as
it wras consumed. Homer does not mention the fire¬
brand ; whence some have imagined that this fable is
posterior to that poet’s age. But he says, that the
death of Toxeus and Plexippus so irritated Altha:a,
that she uttered the most horrible curses and impreca¬
tions upon her son’s head.
Meleager, a Greek poet, the son of Eucrates,
was born at Seleucia in Syria, and flourished under
the reign of Seleucus VI. the last king of Syria. He
was educated at Tyre ; and died in the island of Coos,
anciently called Merope. He there composed the
Greek epigrams called by us the Anthologia. The dis¬
position of the epigrams in this collection was often
changed afterwards, and many additions have been made
to them. The monk Planudes put them into the order
they are in at present, in the 1380.
MELEAGRIS, the Turkey ; a genus of birds
belonging to the order of gallinse. See Ornithology
Index.
MELES, the Badger. See Ursus, Mammalia
Index.
Meles, in Ancient Geography, a fine river running
by the walls of Smyrna in Ionia, with a cave at its head,
where Homer is said to have written his poems. And
from it Homer takes his original name Melesigenes,
given him by his mother Critheis, as being born on its
banks. (Herodotus).
MELETIANS, in ecclesiastical history, the name
of a considerable party who adhered to the cause of
Meletius bishop of Lycopolis, in Upper Egypt, after
he was deposed, about the year 306, by Peter bishop
of Alexandria, under the charge of his having sacri¬
ficed to the gods, and having been guilty of other
heinous crimes } though Epiphanius makes his only
failing to have been an excessive severity against the
lapsed. This dispute, which was at first a personal
difference between Meletius and Peter, became a reli¬
gious controversy 5 and the Meletian party subsisted
in the fifth century, but was condemned by the first
council of Nice.
MELIA, AzaDERACH, or the Bead Tree, a genus
of plants, belonging (o the decandria class ; and in the
natural method ranking under the 23d order, Trihilutx.
See Botany Index.
MELIANTHUS, Honey-flower, a genus of
plants belonging to the didynamia class ) and in the na¬
tural method ranking under the 24th order, Corydales.
See Botany Index.
MELIBOEA, in Ancient Geography, an island of
Syria, at the mouth of the Orontes j which before it
falls into the sea, forms a spreading lake round it. This
island was famous for its purple dye. Thought to be a
colony of Thessalians 5 and hence Lucretius’s epithet,
Thessalicvs.
MELICA, Ropegrass, a genus of the digynia or¬
der, belonging, to the triandria class of plants j and in
the natural method ranking under the 4th order, Gra-
mina. See Botany Index.
MELICERES, in St/rgery, a kind of encysted tu-
j * monr,
MEL
.r, ;res mour, so called when their contents are of the consist¬
ence of honey. See Tumour, Surgery Index.
M c. MELICERTA, MelicERTES, or Melicertus, in fa-
^ bulons history, a son of Athamas and Ino. He was
saved by his mother from the fury of his father, who
prepared to dash him against a wall as he had done his
brother Learchus. The mother was so terrified that she
threw herself into the sea with Meiicerta in her arms.
Neptune had compassion on the misfortunes of Ino and
her son. He changed them both into sea deities.
Ino was called Leucothoe ox Matuta ; and Meiicerta was
known among the Greeks by the name of Palcemon,
and among the Latins by that of Portnmm/s. Some
suppose that the Isthmian games were instituted in ho¬
nour of Meiicerta.
MELILLA, an ancient town of Africa, in the king¬
dom of Fez, and in the province of Caret. It was ta¬
ken by the Spaniards in 1469, but returned back to
the Moors. W. Long. 2. 9. N. Lat. 35. 20.
MELILOT. See Trifolium, Botany and Agri¬
culture Index.
MELINDA, a kingdom on the east coast of Africa,
situated, according to some, between the third and
fourth degree of south latitude , though there is great
disagreement among geographers as to its extent. It
is allowed by all, however, that the coasts are very
dangerous j being full of rocks and shelves, and the
sea at some seasons very liable to tempests. The king¬
dom of Melinda is for the most part rich and fertile j
producing almost all the necessaries of life except wheat
and rice, both which are brought thither from Cam-
baya and other parts; and those who cannot purchase
them make use of potatoes in their stead, which are
here fine, large, and in great plenty. They likewise
abound with great variety of fruit trees, roots, plants,
and other esculents, and with melons of exquisite taste.
They have also great plenty of venison, game, oxen,
sheep, hens, geese, and other poultry, &c. and one breed
of sheep whose tails weigh between 30 and 40 pounds.
The capital city is also called Melinda.
MELINUM, in Hatural History, the name of an
earth famous in the earliest ages of painting, being
the only wdiite of the great painters of antiquity ; and,
according to Plinv’s account, one of the three colours
with which alone they performed all their works. From
the description given of this earth it seems to be alu¬
minous, tolerably pure, and in a state of minute di¬
vision.
MELISSA, in fabulous history, a daughter of Me-
Hssus king of Crete, who with her sister Amalthiea fed
Jupiter with the milk of goats. She first found out the
means of collecting honey} whence it has been fabled
that she was changed into a bee, as her name is the
Creek word for that insect.
Melissa, Baum, a genus of plants, belonging to the
didynamia class •, and in the natural method ranking
under the 42d order Verticillatce. See Botany Index.
MELISSUS of Samos, a Greek philosopher, was
the son of Rhagines and the disciple of Parmenides ;
and lived about 440 B. C. He pretended that the
universe is infinite, immoveable, and without a vacuum.
Ihemistocles was among his pupils.
MELITE, in Ancient Geography, an island refer¬
red to Africa by Scylax and Ptolemy \ but nearer Si¬
cily, and allotted to it by the Romans: commended
Vol. XIII. Part II.
MEL
lor its commodious harbours; for a city well built, Mditc
with artificers of every kind, especially weavers of fine |]
linen j all owing to the Phoenicians, the first colonists. Meilf.
Now Malta ; remarkable for St Paul’s shipw'reck. See y
Malta.
Melite, Mehta, or Mehtina Insula; an island on
the coast of lilyricum in the Adriatic. The Catufi
Mehtcei (VYmy) were famous. Now Melede, the name
of the island Samos. See Samos.
Me Lite, in Ancient Geography, a town of Ionia ,
struck out of the number of Ionian towns on account of
the arrogance of the people, and Smyrna admitted in
lieu of it. The situation is not specified.
MELITENSIS TERRA, the Earth of Malta: an
earth of which there are two very different kinds 5 the
one of which is a bole, the other a marl. The latter
is that known by medical authors under this name j
the former is the Malta earth now in use ; but both
being brought from the same place, are confusedly cal¬
led by the same name. The Maltese marl, which is
the ter-ra Mclitensis of medical authors, is a loose,
crumbly, and light earth, of an unequal and irregular
texture j and, when exposed to the weather, soon falls
into fine soft powder : but when preserved and dried,
it becomes a loose, light mass, of a dirty white colour,
with a grayish cast : it is rough to the touch, adheres
firmly to the tongue, is very easily crumbled to pow¬
der between the fingers, and stains the hands. Thrown,
into the water, it swells, and afterwards moulders a-
way into a fine powder. It ferments very violently
with acids. Both kinds are found in great abundance
in the island of Malta, and the latter has been much
esteemed as a remedy against the bites of venomous
animals. The other has supplied its place in the Ger¬
man shops and is used there as a cordial, sudorific,
and astringent.
MELITQ (canonized), bishop of Sardis in Lydia,
in the second century } remarkable for the apology ho
presented to the emperor Aurelius, in favour of the
Christians; on which Eusebius and the other ancient
ecclesiastical writers bestow great praises : hut that apo¬
logy and all Melito’s other works are lost.
MELJTUS, a Greek orator and poet, the accuser
of Socrates. The Athenians, after the death of So¬
crates, discovering the iniquity of the sentence they
had passed against that great philosopher, put Melitus
to death, 400 B. C.
MELLER, a lake of Sweden, 80 miles long, and
30 broad ; on which stands the city of Stockholm.
MELLI, with the country of the Mundingoes, in
Africa. The country formerly called Melh, now chief-
Iv inhabited by the Mundingoes, who still retain pretty
much of the character ascribed to the people of Melii,
lies to the south of the river Gambia; on the w’est it
borders on the kingdom of Kabo 5 on the south it has
Melii, properly so called, and the mountains that part
it from Guinea 5 and on the east it extends to the king¬
dom of Gago. With a great part of this country we
are little acquainted, as is the case with regard to
most of the inland territories of Africa} but towards
the sea coast this country is a little better known.
The first place of note we meet with is Kachao, a
Portuguese colony, situated on the river of St Do¬
mingo, which falls into the sea about 26 leagues below
this town.—About 26 leagues above Kachao, on the
4 3 R. same
f 497 ]
MEL
Melli game side of the river, is another trading town called
!l Tar ini, where, in the months of October and November,
^-.tAiinotli.^ £|jere jg some trade in wax and ivory.—l>ot is a village
near the mouth of the river Gesves, where most ol the tra¬
ders buy rice ; which is in great plenty there, and very
oood.—Gesves is a village on a river ol the same name,
on which the Portuguese have a factory. At Gesyes
one may trade yearly for 250 slaves, 80 or 100 quin¬
tals of wax, and as many of ivory. Near the mouth
of the river ol^ Gesves is a village called Kurbah,
where there is a considerable trade lor salt j here are
also some slaves and ivory. Rio Grande, or the Great
River, runs about 10 or 12 leagues to the south of
the river of Gesves. About 80 leagues from the mouth
of it is a nation of negroes, who are considerable traders
in ivory, rice, millet, and some slaves. 1 hey are called
Analons. Over against the mouth of Rio Grande is
a cluster of islands called JBissago Isles ; the most con¬
siderable of which is Cassagut, being about six leagues
long and two broad j its soil is very good, and produces
millet, rice, and all kinds of pulse, besides orange and
palm trees, and many others. Ibis island, with
those of Carache, Canabac, and La Gallina, are the
only ones where the Europeans may trade with some
security. They trade, however, sometimes at the other
islands, but they must be extremely cautious j and yet
after all their precautions, they will be robbed and
murdered if they venture to go ashore. The river
Nunho runs 16 leagues to the south of Rio Grande j
it is very considerable, and comes from a vast distance
inland. One may buy here 300 quintals of ivory and
100 slaves a-year. Rice grows here admirably well,
and is very cheap. There are everywhere sugar canes
which grow naturally ; and plants of indigo, which
might turn to good account. The trade is carried on
here from March till August. In the river of Sierra
Leone, the late Royal African Company of England
had, in the year 1728, two islands; the one, called
'Tasso, a large flat island, near three leagues in circum¬
ference, on which the company’s slaves had a good
plantation ; the rest of the island is covered with wood,
among which are silk cotton trees of an unaccountable
size. The other island is Sense, whereon stood a re¬
gular fort. It was formerly the residence of one of
the English chiefs.
MELLITE, or Honey-stone, a mineral sub¬
stance, composed of a peculiar acid and alumina. See,
Mellite, Mineralogy Index.
MELMOTH, William, Esq. a learned member
of Lincoln’s Inn, was born in 1666. In conjunction
with MrPeere Williams, Mr Melmoth was the publisher
of Vernon’s Reports, under an order of the court of
chancery. He had once an intention of printing his
own Reports ; and a short time before his death adver¬
tised them at the end of those of his coadjutor Peere
Williams, as then actually preparing for the press.
They have, however, not yet made their appearance.
Rut the performance for which he justly deserves to he,
held in perpetual remembrance is, “ The Great Im¬
portance of a Religious Life concerning which it
may be mentioned to the credit of the age, that not¬
withstanding many large editions had before been circu¬
lated, 42,000 copies of this useful treatise have been
- sold in the last 18 years. It is a somewhat singular
circumstance, that the real author of this most admirable
MEL
treatise should never before have been publicly known Melm0
(it having been commonly attributed to the first earl of [|
Egmont, and particularly by Mr Walpole in his, Melod
Catalogue) ; which is the more surprising, as the author ^
is plainly pointed out in the following short character
prefixed to the book itself: It may add weight, per¬
haps, to the reflections contained in the following pages,
to inform the x-eader, that the author’s life was one
uniform exemplar of those precepts which, with so
generous a zeal, and such an elegant and affecting
simplicity of style, he endeavours to recommend to
general practice. He left others to contend for modes
of faith, and inflame themselves and the world with
endless conti’oversy: it was the wiser purpose of his more
ennobled aim, to act up to those clear rules of conduct
which revelation hath graciously prescribed. Repossess¬
ed by temper every moral virtue ; by religion every
Christian grace. He had a humanity that melted at
every distress ; a charity which not only thought no evil,
hut suspected none. He exercised his profession with a
skill and integrity which nothing could equal but the
disinterested motive that animated his labours, or the
amiable modesty which accompanied all his virtues. He
employed his industry, not to gratify his own desires ;
no man indulged himself less : not to accumulate useless
wealth ; no man more disdained so unworthy a pursuit:
it was for the decent advancement of his family, for the
generous assistance of his friends, for the ready relief
of the indigent. How often did he exert his distinguished
abilities, yet refuse the reward of them, in defence of the
widow, the fatherless, and him that had none to help
him 1 In a word, few have ever passed a more useful,
not one a more blameless life ; and his whole time was
employed either in doing good, or in meditating it. He
died on the 6th day of April 1743, and lies buried under
the cloister of Lincoln’s Inn Chapel. MEM. PAT. OPT.
MER. FIL. Die.” The son, by whom this character is
drawn, is William Melmoth, Esq. the celebrated transla¬
tor of Pliny and of Cicero’s Letters; and author of those
which pass under the name of Sir Thomas Fit'Zosborne.
MELOCHIA, Jews Mallow, a genus of plants
belonging to the monadelphia class ; and in the natural
method ranking under the 37th order, Columnifera.
See Botany Index.
MELODUNUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the Cenones in Gallia Celtica, above Lutetia ; now
Melun, in the Isle of France, on the Seine.
MELODY, in music, a succession of sounds ranged
in such a manner, according to the laws of rhythmus
and modulation, that it may form a sentiment agreeable
to the ear. Vocal melody is called singmg ; and that
which is performed upon instruments may be termed
symphonic melody.
The idea of rhythmus necessarily entei’S into that of
melody. An air is not an air but in propoi'tion as the
larvs of measure and quantity are observed. The same
succession of sounds is susceptible of as many different
characters, as many different kinds ot melody, as the
various ways by which its emphatic notes, and the
quantities of those which intervene, may be divex’sified ;
and the change in duration of the notes alone, may
disguise that very succession in such a manner that it
cannot be known. Thus, melody in itself is nothing ;
it is the rhythmus or measure which determines it, and
there can be no air without time. If then we abstract
measure,.
[ 498 3
MEL
jv measure from both, we cannot compare melody with
^ harmony j for to the former it is essential, but not at
all to the latter.
Melody, according to the manner in which it is
considered, has a relation to two different principles.
When regarded only as agreeable to the proportions of
sound and the rules of modulation, it has its pi’inciple
in harmony ; since it is a harmonical analysis, which
exhibits the different gradations of the scale, the chords
peculiar to each mode, and the laws of modulation,
which are the sole elements that compose an air. Ac¬
cording to this principle, the whole power of melody
is limited to that of pleasing the ear by agreeable
sounds, as tbe eye may be pleased with an agreeable
assemblage of suitable colours. But when considered as
an imitative art, by which we may affect the mind
with various images, excite different emotions in the
heart, inflame or soothe the passions •, by which, in a
word, we produce different effects upon our moral fa¬
culties, which are not to be effectuated by the influ-
ertce of external sense alone, we must explore another
principle for melody : for in our whole internal frame
there appears to be no power upon which either har¬
mony alone, or its necessary results, can seize, to affect
us in such a manner.
What then is the second principle ! It is as much
founded on nature as the first; but, in order to discover
its foundation in nature, it will require a more accurate
though simpler observation, and a more exquisite degree
of sensibility in the observer. This principle is the
same which varies the tone of the voice, when we
speak, according as we are interested in what we say,
and according to the different emotions which we feel
in expressing it. It is the accent of languages which
determines the melody of every nation ; it is tbe accent
which determines us to employ the emphasis of speaking
while we sing, and to speak with more or less energy
according as the language which we use is more or
less accented. That language whose accents are the
most sensible, ought to produce a more passionate and
more lively melody •, that which has little accentuation,
or none at all, can only produce a cold and languid
melody, without character and without expression.
These are the true principles: in proportion as we de¬
part from them, when we speak of the power of music
upon the human heart, we shall become unintelligible
to ourselves and others : our words will be without
meaning.
If music does not impress the soul with images but
by melody, if from thence it obtains its whole power,
it must follow, that all musical sounds which are not
pleasing by themselves alone, however agreeable to
harmony they may be, is not an imitative music ; and,
being incapable, even with its most beautiful chords,
either to present the images of things, or to excite the
finer feelings, very soon cloys the ear, and leaves al¬
ways the heart in cold indifference. It follows like¬
wise, that notwithstanding the parts which harmony
has introduced, and which the present taste of music
so wantonly abuses, wherever two different melodies
are heard at the same time, they counteract each other,
and destroy the effects of both, however beautiful
each may be when performed alone : from whence it
may be judged with what degree of taste the l1 rench
MEL
composers have introduced in their operas the miser- Melody
able practice of accompanying one air with another, as H
well in singing, which is the native expression of pa- ^c'os-
thos and sentiment, as in instrumental performances j ^ ’ v
which is the same thing as if whimsical orators should
take it in their heads to recite two orations at the same
time, that the elegance of each might derive more
force from the other.
So much for liousseau. The translator, however, has
reason to fear, that the causes by which national me¬
lody is diversified and characterized, are more pro¬
found and permanent than the mere accentuation of
language. This indeed may have great influence in
determining the nature of the rhythmus, and the place
of emphatic notes 5 but very little in regulating the
nature of the emphasis and expression themselves. If
Rousseau’s principle be true in its full extent, lie must
of necessity acknowledge, that an air which was never
set or intended for words, however melodious, cannot
be imitative ; he must likewise confess, that what is
imitative in one nation cannot be such in another: nor
can it be denied, upon his hypothesis, that the recita¬
tive, which is formed upon the mode of speaking, is
the most forcible of all melodies •, which is absurd.
His other observations are at once judicious and pro¬
found. Though it is impossible to exhibit the beauty
and variety of harmony by playing the same melody
at the same time upon dift’erent keys, admitting those
keys to form among themselves a perfect chord, whick
will of consequence preserve all the subsequent notes in
the same intervals; yet this perfect harmony would by
no means be uniformly pleasing to the ear. We must
therefore of necessity introduce less perfect chords to
vary and increase the pleasure, and these chords in any
complex system of music must of necessity produce
dissonances. It then becomes the business of the com¬
poser to be careful that these discords may arise as na¬
turally from, and return as naturally to perfect har¬
mony as possible. All these causes must inevitably va¬
ry the melody of the diflerent parts j but still, amidst
all these difficulties, the artist ought to be zealous in
preserving the melody of each as homogeneous with
the others as possible, that the result of the whole may
be in some measure uniform. Otherwise, by counter¬
acting each other, the parts wTill reciprocally destroy
the effects one of another.
MELOE, a genus of insects of the order of coleop-
tera. See Entomology Index.
MELON, a species of Cugumis, in the Linncean
system. See Botany and Gardening I?idex.
Water Melon. See Anguria, Botany Index.
MELOS, in Ancient Geography, an island between
Crete and Peloponnesus, about 24 miles from Scyllaeum.
It is about 60 miles in circumference, and of an oblong
figure. It enjoyed its independence for about 70p
years before the time of the Peloponnesian war. I his
island was originally peopled by a Lacedaemonian colo-
X115 years before the Christian era. lor this rea¬
son the inhabitants refused to join the rest of the
islands and the Athenians against the Peloponnesians.
This refusal was severely punished. The Athenians
took Melos, and put to the sword all such as were able
to bear arms. The women and children were made
slaves, and the island left desolate. An Athenian co-
3 R 2 lony
f 499 ]
MEL [ 500 ] ME M
-Melotliria louy repeopled it, till Lysander reconquered it, and re-
11 established the original inhabitants in their possessions.
, | MELOTHRIA, a genus of plants belonging to the
triandria class j and in the natural method ranking un¬
der the 34th order, Cucurbitacecc. See Botany Index.
MELPOMENE, in Fabulous History, one of the
muses, daughter of Jupiter and Mnemosyne. She pre¬
sided over tragedy. Horace has addressed the finest of
his odes to her, as to the patroness of lyric poetry.
She was generally represented as a young woman with
a serious countenance. Her garments were splendid j
she wore a buskin, and held a dagger in one hand, and
in the other a sceptre and crown.
MELROSE, a town of Scotland, in the county
of Selkirk, and on the confines of Tweedale, seated on
the south side of the river Tweed j with an ancient
abbey, now in ruins. W. Long. 2. 32. N. Lat. 55.
32.
This abbey was founded by King David I. in 1x36.
Pie peopled it with Cistertians brought from Rivale ab¬
bey in Yorkshire, and dedicated it to the Virgin Mary.
At the Reformation James Douglas was appointed com-
mendator, wTho took down much of the building, in
order to furnish materials for a large house to himself,
which still remains, and is dated 1590. Nothing is
left of the abbey excepting a part of the cloister wall
elegantly carved j but the ruins of the church are of
most uncommon beauty. The sculpture is excellent,
and the figures generally in good preservation. A few
years ago the parish church was removed from the ab¬
bey, and a new church built at some distance from it.
The rents of this abbey at the Reformation were, in
money 1144I. 15s. 4d. wheat, 19 eh. 9 bolls, bear
77 ch. 3 bolls, meal 14 ch., oats 47 eh. 1 boll, butter
105 stone, salt 8 ch., capons 104, poultry 520, peats
340 load. These measures are one-third more than
the standard. Alexander II. was buried beneath the
great altar, and it is also the place of interment of the
Douglases and other potent families.—Its situation is
extremely pleasant.
MELT OF fishes. In the melt of a living cod
there are such numbers of those animalcules said to he
found in the semen of all male animals, that in a drop
of its juice no larger than a grain of sand, there are
contained more than 10,000 of them •, and considering
how many such quantities there arc in the whole melt
of one such fish, it is not incredible, that there are more
animals in one melt of it than there are living men at
one time upon the face of the earth.
MELTING CONE, in essaying, an hollow cone of
brass or cast iron, into which melted metalline sub¬
stances are thrown, in order to free them from their
scoriae. When a small quantity of matter is melted,
it will be sufficient to rub the inside of the cone with
grease; but when the quantity is lai'ge, especially if
it contains any thing sulphureous, this caution of tal¬
lowing the moulds is not sufficient. In this case the
essayer has recourse to a lute reduced to thin pap
with water, which efiectualiy prevents any injury to the
cone.
MELTON Moubray, a town of Leicestershire,
xo8 miles from London. It is a large well-built place,
in a fertile soil; with a market on Tuesday, the most
considerable for cattle of any in this part of the island.
It is almost encompassed with a little river called the j|e;t
Eye, over which it has two fine bridges j and has a ||°n
large handsome church, with a free school. Here are Men,non.
frequent horse races, and three fairs in the year. y-*.
MELVJ.L, Slit James, descended from an honour¬
able Scots family, being the third son of the laird of
Ivaeth, was born about the middle of the 16th century.
He went to France very young, in the capacity of
page to Queen Mary, then married to the dauphin ;
and on the death of her husband, followed her to
Scotland, where he was made gentleman of her cham¬
ber, and admitted a privy counsellor. She employed
him in her most important concerns, till her unhappy
confinement in Lochleven, all which he discharged
with the utmost fidelity 5 and, from his own accounts,
there is reason to conclude, that, had she taken his
advice, she might have avoided many of her misfor¬
tunes. When she was prisoner in England, she recom¬
mended him strongly to her son James; with whom he
continued in favour and employment until the death of
Queen Elizabeth : James would then have taken him
to England ; hut Melvil, now grown old, was desirous
of retiring from business, and in his retirement he drew
up the memoirs of his past life for the use of his son.
These Memoirs were accidentally found in Edinburgh
castle in the year 1660, though nobody knew how
they came to be deposited there ; and were published
in folio in 1683.
MEMBERS, in Anatomy, the exterior parts, arising
from the trunk or body of an animal like the boughs
from the trunk of a tree.
Member, in Architecture, denotes any part of a
building *, as a frieze, cornice, or the like.
Member is sometimes also used for moulding.
Member, in Grammar, is applied to the parts of a
period or sentence.
Member is also used to denote some particular or¬
der or rank in a state or government: thus we say,
“ member of a corporation, member of parliament,
member of the council,” &c.
MEMBRANE, Membrana, in Anatomy, a similar
part of an animal body ; being a thin, white, flexible,
expanded skin, formed of several sorts of fibres inter¬
woven together, and serving to cover or wrap up cer¬
tain parts of the body. See Anatomy passim.
MEMEL, or Memmel ; a town of Prussia, situat¬
ed on the northern extremity of the Curische Haf,
an inlet of the sea about 70 miles in length, which
is here joined to the Baltic by a narrow strait.—It is
an ill built town, with narrow dirty streets j but re¬
markable for its extensive commerce, being provided
with the finest harbour in the Baltic. In 1784, 996
ships, amongst which were 500 English, arrived here.
The imports chiefly are, salt, iron, and salted herrings j
the exports, which greatly exceed the imports, are am¬
ber, corn, hemp, flax, and particularly timber. An
English consul resides here. The trade increased great¬
ly on account of the high duties laid on the imports of
Riga. E. Long. 21. 25. N. Lat. 55. 50.
MEMNON, in fabulous history, a king of Ethiopia,
son of Tithonus and Aurora. He came with a body
of 10, ogo men to assist his uncle Priam, during the-
Trojan war. He behaved with great courage, and
killed Antilochus, Nestor’s son. The aged father chal¬
lenged
MEM £ 501 ] MEM
lon lengctl the Ethiopian monarch 5 hut Memnon refused
it on account of the venerable age of Nestor, and ac-
>ry- cepted that of Achilles. He was killed in the com¬
bat, in the sight of the Grecian and Trojan armies.
Aurora prayed to Jupiter to grant her son such honours
as might distinguish him from other mortals. The
god consented j and immediately a numerous flight of
birds issued from the burning pile on which the body
was laid, and dividing themselves into two separate bo¬
dies, fought with such fury, that above half of them fell
down in the fire as victims to appease the manes of Mem¬
non. These birds were called Memnonides ; and it has
been observed by some of the ancients, that they never
failed to return yearly to the tomb of Memnon in
Troas, and repeat the same bloody engagement in ho¬
nour of the hero from whom they received their name.
The Ethiopians or Egyptians, over whom Memnon
reigned, erected a celebrated statue to the honour of
their monarch. This statue had the wonderful pro¬
perty of uttering a melodious sound every day at sun-
rising, like that which is heard at the breaking of
the string of a harp when it is wound up. This was
effected by the rays of the sun when they fell upon
it. At the setting of the sun, and in the night, the
sound was lugubrious. This is supported by the testi¬
mony of the geographer Strabo, who confesses him¬
self ignorant whether it proceeded from the basis of
the statue, or the people that were then around it.
This celebrated statue was dismantled by order of
Cambyses when he conquered Egypt; and its ruins
still astonish modern travellers by their grandeur and
beauty.
Memnon of Rhodes, one of the generals of Darius
king of Persia, advised that prince to lay waste the
country, in order to deprive Alexander the Great’s
army of support, and afterwards to attack Macedon ;
but this counsel was disapproved by Darius’s other ge¬
nerals. Memnon behaved at the passage 01 the Gra-
nicus like an experienced general. He afterwards de¬
fended the city of Miletum with great courage 5 seized
the islands of Chios and Lesbos ; spread terror through¬
out all Greece; and would have put a stop to the con-
quests of Alexander, if he had not been prevented by
death. Barsina, Memnon’s widow, was taken prisoner
with Darius’s wife, and Alexander had a son by her
named Hercules.
MEMOIRS, in matters of literature, a species of
history, written by persons who had some share in the
transactions they relate j answering to what the Ro¬
mans called Commentarii.—The journals of the proceed¬
ings of a literary society, or a collection ot matters
transacted therein, are likewise called Memoirs.
MEMORY, a faculty of the mind, which presents
to us ideas or notions of what is past, accompanied
with a persuasion that the things themselves were for¬
merly real and present. What we distinctly remember
10 have perceived, we as firmly believe to have happen¬
ed, as what is now present to our senses.
The opinions of philosophers concerning the means
by which the mind retains the ideas of past objects,
and how those ideas carry with them evidence of their
objects having been actually perceived, shall be laid be¬
fore our readers in another place : (see Metaphysics,
Tart I. chap. ii.). At present we shall throw together
some observations on the memory, which, being of a
practical rather than of a speculative nature, cannot be Memory,
admitted into the article where the nature of the facul- —v—
ty itself is discussed.
“ When we remember with little or no effort, it is
called remembrance simply, or memory, and sometimes
passive memory *. When we endeavour to remember* Beattie'a
what does not immediately (and as it were) of Elements
occur, it is called active memory ox recollection. A^^°^
ready recollection of our knowledge, at the moment
when we have occasion for it, is a talent of the great¬
est importance. The man possessed of it seldom fails to
distinguish himself in whatever sort of business he may
be engaged.” It is indeed evident, that when the
power of retention is weak, all attempts at eminence
of knowledge must he vain 5 for “ memory is the pri¬
mary and fundamental power f, without which there f Idler.
could be no other intellectual operation. Judgment and
ratiocination suppose something already known, and
draw their decisions only from experience. Imagina¬
tion selects ideas from the treasures of remembrance,
and produces novelty only by varied combinations. We
do not even form conjectures of distant, or anticipations
of future events, but by concluding what is possible from
what is past.”
Of a faculty so important, many rules have been
given for the regulation and improvement; of which
the first is, that he who wishes to have a clear and dis¬
tinct remembrance, should he temperate with respect
to eating, drinking, and sleep. The memory depends
very much upon the state of the brain ; and therefore
whatever is hurtful to the latter, must be prejudicial
to the former. Too much sleep clouds the brain, and
too little overheats it 5 therefore either of these ex¬
tremes must of course hurt the memory, and ought
carefully to be avoided. Intemperance of all kinds,
and excess of passion, have the same ill effects ; so that
we rarely meet with an intemperate person whose me¬
mory is at once clear and tenacious.
“ The liveliest remembrance is not so vivid as the
sensation that produced it f ; and ideas of memory do f Beattie's
often, but not always, decay more and more, as the ori-
ginal sensation becomes more and more remote in time. jfer
Those sensations and those thoughts have a chance to
be long remembered which are lively at first j and
those are likely to be most lively which are most at¬
tended to, or which are accompanied with pleasure or
pain, with wonder, surprise, curiosity, merriment, and
other lively passions. The art of memory, therefore, be¬
little more than the art of attention. What we wish
to remember we should attend to, so as to understand it
perfectly, fixing our view particularly upon its import¬
ance or singular nature, that it may raise within us
some of the passions above mentioned. We should also
disengage oui* minds from all other things, that we may.
attend more effectually to the object which we wish to
remember. No man will read with much auiantage-
who is not able at pleasure to evacuate his mind, or
who hnno’S not to his author an intellect defecated and
pure, neither turbid with care, nor agitated with plea¬
sure. If the repositories of thought are already full,
what can they receive ? If the mind is employed on
the past or the future, the book will be held before the
eyes in vain.
“ It is the practice of many readers, to note in the§ Eumenti ~
margin of their hooks the most important passages '
the.
MEM _ t Sc
Memory, the strongest arguments, or the^ brightest sentiments.
.—-y—J Thus they load their minds with sujterfluous atten¬
tion, repress the vehemence of curiosity by useless deli*
beration, and by frequent interruption break the cur¬
rent of narration or the chain of reason, and at last
close the volume and forget the passages and the
marks together. Others are firmly persuaded, that
nothing is certainly remembered but what is tran¬
scribed ; and they, therefore, pass weeks and months
in transferring large quotations to a common-place-
book. Yet, why any part of a book which can be
consulted at pleasure should be copied, we are not
able to discover. The hand has no closer correspond¬
ence with the memory than the eye* The act ol writ¬
ing itself distracts the thoughts j and what is read
twice, is commonly better remembered than what is
transcribed. This method, therefore, consumes time,
without assisting the memory. But to write an a-
bridgment of a good book may sometimes be a very
profitable exercise. In general, when wre would pre¬
serve the doctrines, sentiments, or facts, that occur in
reading, it will be prudent to lay the book aside, and
put them in writing in our own words. Tihis prac¬
tice will give accuracy to our knowledge, accustom us
to recollection, improve us in the use of language, and
enable us so thoroughly to comprehend the thoughts
of other men, as to make them in some measure our
own.”
“ Our thoughts have for the 'most part a connec-
® Idler, tion * j so that the thought which is just now in the
mind, depends partly upon that which went before,
and partly serves to introduce that which follows.—
Hence we remember best those things of which the
parts are methodically disposed and mutually con¬
nected. A regular discourse makes a more lasting im¬
pression upon the hearer than a parcel of detached
sentences, and gives to his rational powers a more sa¬
lutary exercise : and this may show us the propriety
of conducting our studies, and all our affairs, according
to a regular plan or method. When this is not done,
our thoughts and our business, especially if in any de¬
gree complex, soon run into confusion.”
As the mind is not at all times equally disposed for
the exercise of this faculty, such seasons should be
made choice of as are most proper for it. The mind
is seldom fit for attention presently after meals j and
to call off the spirits at such times from their pro¬
per employment in digestion, is apt to cloud the
brain, and prejudice the health. Both the mind and
body should be easy and undisturbed when we engage
in this exercise, and therefore retirement is most fit
for it: and the evening, just before we goto rest, is
generally recommended as a very convenient season,
both from the stillness of the night, and because the
impressions will then have a longer time to settle be¬
fore they come to be disturbed by the accession of
others proceeding from external objects ; and to call
over in the morning what has been committed to the
memory overnight, must, for the same reason, be
very serviceable. For, to review those ideas while
they continue fresh upon the mind, and unmixed
with any others, must necessarily imprint them more
deeply.
Some ancient writers speak of an artificial me¬
mory, and lay down rules for attaining it. Simonides
3
a ] MEM
the poet is said first to have discovered this, or at least Mcmoi
to have‘given the occasion for it. The story they1*—-v-
tell of him is this : Being once at a feast, he recited l
a poem which he had made in honour of the person
who gave the entertainment. But having (as is usual
in poetry) made a large digression in praise of Castor
and Pollux j when he had repeated the whole poem,
his patron would give him but half the sum he had
promised, telling him he must get the other part from
those deities who had an equal share in the honour of
his performance. Immediately after, Simonides was
told that two young men were without, and must needs
speak with him. He had scarcely got out of the
house, when the room where the company was fell
down, killed all the persons in it, and so mashed the
bodies, that, when the rubbish was thrown off, they
could not be known one from another : upon which
Simonides recollecting the place where every one had
sat, by that means distinguished them. Hence it
came to be observed, that to fix a number of places
in the miiid in a certain order, was a help to the
memory: As we find by experience, that, upon re¬
turning to places once familiar to us, wre not only re¬
member them, but likewise many things we both said
and did in them. This action therefore of Simonides
was afterwards improved into an art \ and the nature
of it is this : They bid you form in your mind the
idea of some large place or building, which you may
divide into a great number of distinct parts, ranged
and disposed in a certain order. These you are fre¬
quently to revolve in your thoughts, till you are able
to run them over one after another without hesitation,
beginning at any part. Then you are to impress
upon your mind as many images of living creatures,
or any other insensible objects which are most likely to
affect you, aud be soonest revived in your memory.
These, like characters in shorthand, or hieroglyphics,
must stand to denote an equal number of other words,
which cannot so easily be remembered. When there¬
fore you have a number of things to commit to me¬
mory in a certain order, all that you have to do is, to
place these images regularly in the several parts of
your building. And thus they tell you, that, by go¬
ing over several parts of the building, the images
placed in them will be revived in the mind } which of
course will give you the things or words themselves
in the order you desire to remember them. The ad¬
vantage of the images seems to be this \ that, as they
are more like to affect the imagination than the words
for which they stand, they will for that reason be more
easily remembered. Thus, for instance, if the image
of a lion be made to signify strength, and this word
strength be one of those I am to remember, and is
placed in the porch \ when, in going over the several
parts of the building, I come to the porch, I shall soon¬
er be reminded of that image than of the word strength*
Of this artificial memory, both Cicero and Quintilian
speak j but we know not of any modern orator that
has ever made use of it. It seems indeed to have been
a laborious way of improving the memory, if it serves
that end at all, and fitter for assisting us to remember
any number of unconnected words than a continual
discourse, unless so far as the remembrance of one word
may enable us to recollect more. It is, however, m
allusion to it, that we still call the parts of a discourse
places
M N E [ 503 I M N E
L ry plates or topics, and say, in the first place, in the second
¥ ji,,, )ni- place, &c.
But, doubtless, the most effectual way to gain a
' good memory, is by constant and moderate exercise of
it 5 for the memory, like other habits, is strengthened
and improved by daily use. It is indeed hardly cre¬
dible, to what a degree both active and passive remem¬
brance may be improved by long practice. Scaliger re¬
ports of himself, that in his youth he could repeat
above 100 verses, having once read them j and Her the¬
cas declares, that he wrote his Comment upon Clau-
dian without consulting the text. To hope, however,
for such degrees of memory as these, would be equally
vain as to hope for the strength of Hercules, or the
swiftness of Achilles. “ But there are clergymen who
, can get a sermon by heart* in two hours, though their
memory, when they began to exercise it, was rather
weak than strong: And pleaders, with other orators
who speak in public and extempore, often discover, in
calling instantly to mind all the knowledge necessary
on the present occasion, and every thing of importance
that may have been advanced in the course of a long
debate, such powers of retention and recollection as,
to the man who has never been obliged to exert him¬
self in the same manner, are altogether astonishing.
As habits, in order to be strong, must be formed in ear¬
ly life, the memories of children should, therefore, be
constantly exercised j but to oblige them to commit to
memory what they do not understand, perverts their
faculties, and gives them a dislike to learning.” In a
word, those who have most occasion for memory, as
orators and public speakers, should not suffer it to lie
idle, but constantly employ it in treasuring up and fre¬
quently reviving such things as may be of most import¬
ance to them j for by these means it will be more at
their command, and they may place greater confidence
in it upon any emergency.”
“ Men complain of nothing more frequently than
r f 7 unts of deficient memory t: and indeed every one finds,
of ; ’■al that after all his efforts, many of the ideas which he
YY’ desired to retain have slipped irretrievably away *, that
acquisitions of the mind are sometimes equally fugi¬
tive with the gifts of fortune 5 and that a short inter¬
mission of attention more certainly lessens knowledge
than impairs an estate. To assist this weakness of our
nature, many methods besides those which we have
mentioned have been proposed j all of which may be
justly suspected of being ineffectual: for no art of me?
mory, however its effects may have been boasted or
admired, has been ever adopted into general use ; nor
have those who possessed it appeared to excel others in
readiness of recollection or multiplicity of attainments.
The reader who is desirous to try the effect of those,
helps, may have recourse to a treatise entitled A new
Method of Artificial Memory but the true method of
memory is attention and exercise.
MNEMONIC A, or the art of memory, as it was
called by the ancients, lias been lately revived and
studied in Germany and France. In some notices con¬
cerning this subject which we have seen, it is observed
that this science is more intimately connected with the
Egyptian hieroglyphics than is generally thought, and
that this connection may help to explain them. In Ger-
rusmy this art has been revived by M. Aretin) and a.
pupil of his, M. Kaestner, has been permitted to teach Mnemoni-
the new doctrine at Leipsic, but on the express condi- ca¬
tion of not allowing his hearers to write down his lec- ' v
tures. This seems to be a singular, and we may add
a silly prohibition. The following account is given of
this art in a letter from Paris in the beginning of 1807.
“ During my residence, says the writer, in this metro¬
polis I heard a great deal of a new method of mnemo-
nique, or of a method to assist and fix our memory, in¬
vented by Gregor de Feinaigle. Notwithstanding the
simplicity with which he announced his lectures in the
papers, 1 could not determine myself to become a pupil
of his, as I thought to find a quack or mountebank,
and to be laughed at by my friends for having thrown
away my cash in such a foolish manner. Perhaps I
should hesitate to this moment about the utility of this
newly invented method to assist our natural memory, had
1 not had the pleasure of dining at his excellency’s the
count of Metternich, the Austrian ambassador, who
followed, with all his secretaries, the whole course of
lectures $ they all spoke very advantageously of it,
likewise several other persons of the first rank I met
there : in consequence of this I was inserted into the
list of pupils, and I follow at this moment the lec¬
tures. All I can tell you about this method is, it is a
very simple one, and easy to be learned, adapted to all
ages and sexes : all difficulties in such sciences as re¬
quire an extraordinary good memory, for instance, the
names and epochs in history, are at once overcome and
obviated. There is not one branch of science to which
this method cannot be applied. It is easy to be per¬
ceived that such an invention cannot pass without some
critique, and even sarcasms, in the public prints : some
of them were very injurious, and plausible enough to
mislead the public, who, knowing nothing of the me¬
thod, are always more ready to condemn than to assist.
M. Feinaigle, to answer all these critics at once, adopt¬
ed a method not less public for Paris than the public
papers, but less public for the rest of Europe : he gave,
the 22d of last month, a public exhibition to about
2000 spectators, in which he did not appear at all, only
about 12 or 15 of his pupils: each of them made such
an application of the method as his situation in life re¬
quired. The principal parts were the following : his¬
tory, about names and years ; geography, with respect
to longitude, latitude, number of inhabitants, square
miles, &c. &c» 5 grammar in various languages, about
different editions of the .same work j pandects, their di¬
vision, and title of each book, title, &c.’, different sys¬
tems of botany, poetry, arithmetic, &c. &C. At last
one desired the company to give him one thousand
words, without any connection whatsoever, and with¬
out numeric order ; for instance, the word astronomer,
for N° 62 ; wood, for N° 188 *, lovely, for N 370 )
dynasty, for N° 23 5 David, for N° 90, &c &c till
all the numbers were filled *, and he repeated the whole
(notwithstanding he heard these words without order,,
and but once), in the numerical ordery or he told you
what word was given against any one number, or what
number any one word bore.- It is still more striking,
but certainly likewise more difficult, to retain as many
numbers however great they may be. For words and
numbers I could venture myself, with the greatest safe¬
ty as far as one hundred of each ) and I am sure, aftei
7,1 ' having
M E M [ 504 ] MEN
Mnemoai- having fixed them once, which is done in less than ten
ca, minutes, I could repeat them to you at any period,
Memphis, without ever thinking any more of them*.”
' Feinaigle afterwards delivered lectures on the same
3111“z$. subject to crowded audiences in London, Edinburgh,
93. ° ' Glasgow, &c. 5 but we do not find that any of his
pupils received improvement from his instructions, and
very few of them could give any account of his method.
MEMPHIS, an ancient city, and the royal residence
of the kings in the Higher Egypt 5 distant from the
Delta to the south 15 miles, according to Pliny. Call¬
ed also Mop//, and Nop/i, in scripture.
Though this city is now so completely ruined, that
authors greatly disagree concerning its situation 5 yet
Strabo informs us that in his time it was the most mag¬
nificent in Egypt, next to Alexandria, and called the
capital of the country 5 and there was an entire temple
of Osiris, where the Apis or sacred ox was kept and
worshipped. In the same place was an apartment of
the mother of the ox ; a very magnificent temple of
Vulcan ; a large circus or space for fighting bulls } and
a great colossus in the middle of the city, which was
thrown down. There was likewise a temple of Venus,
and a Serapium in a very sandy place, where the wind
. heaps up hills of sand very dangerous to travellers j
together with a number of sphinxes, the heads of some
of them only being visible. In the front of the city
there were many lakes ; aud it contained a number of
palaces, at that time in ruins. These buildings formerly
stood upon an eminence : they lay along the side of the
hill, stretching down to the lakes and groves, 40 stadia
from the city. On a mountain in the neighbourhood,
there was a great number of pyramids, with the sepul¬
chres of the kings. From this description, Mr Bruce
concludes that the celebrated capital of Egypt stood in
the place where the villages of Metrahenny are now
situated; in opposition to Dr Shaw’s opinion, who
thinks it was situated at Geeza or Gisa.
M. Savary has also shown, that Gisa was not the
situation of the ancient Memphis, which stood, he says,
on the spot where the village of Memph now stands.
Large heaps of rubbish are still to be seen there •, but
the Arabs have transported to Cairo the columns and
remarkable stones, which they have disposed, without
taste and without ol der, in their mosques and public
buildings. This city extended as far as Saccara ; and
was almost wholly encompassed by lakes, part of which
are still subsisting. It was necessary to cross them to
convey the dead to the sepulchres of their fathers. The
tombs, hewn out of the rock, were closed up with stones
of a proportionable size, and covered with sand. These
bodies embalmed with so much care, preserved with so
much respect, are torn from the monuments they repose
in, and sold without decency to strangers by the inha¬
bitants of Saccara. This place is called the plain of
■mummies. There too we find the well of the birds, into
which one descends by means of a rope. It leads to
subterraneous galleries, filled with earthen vases con¬
taining the sacred birds. They are rarely met with
entire, because the Arabs break them in hopes of find¬
ing idols of gold. They do not conduct travellers in¬
to the places where they have found more precious ar¬
ticles. They even close them up carefully, reserving
to themselves some secret passages by which they de-
4
scend. In a journey into Egypt made by the duke ]vxeiri)V
de Chaulnes, he advanced .very far into these winding i|
labyrinths, sometimes crawling, and sometimes scramb- Menandel
ling on his knees. Informed by Mr Edward Wortley
Montague, who has carefully visited Egypt, he arrived
at one of those passages which had an opening shut up
from without by branches of the date tree interwoven,
and covered with sand. He remarked there some
hieroglyphics in relievo, executed in the highest perfec¬
tion. But the Arabs resisted every oiler he made them
to permit him to take drawings of them, or to mould
them, in order to preserve their form. The duke de
Chaulnes is of opinion that these hieroglyphics, sculp¬
tured with so much art that the objects they represeul
may be discovered at the first sight, might possibly furnish
the key of the others, whose contours are simply ex¬
pressed, and form a sort of alphabet of this unintelligible
language. Several pyramids are distinguishable along
the mountains which bound Saccara on the west, the
greatest part of which appear as lofty as those of Gisa.
See Pyramids.
MENAGE (Fr.), denotes a collection of animals;
whence we have derived the word menagery.
MENANDER, an ancient Greek poet, was bora
at Athens in the same year with Epicurus, which was
the third of the 109th Olympiad. His happiness in
introducing the new comedy, and refining an art which
had been so gross and licentious in former times, quick¬
ly spread his name over the wrorld. Pliny informs us,
that the kings of Egypt and Macedon gave a noble
testimony of his merit, by sending ambassadors to in¬
vite him to their courts, and even fleets to bring him
over; but that Menander was so much of a philoso¬
pher, as to prefer the free enjoyment of his studies to
the promised favours of the great. Of his works,
which ‘ amounted to above 100 comedies, wre have had
a double loss, the originals being not only vanished,
but the greatest part of them, when copied by Terence,
having unfortunately perished by shipwreck before they
saw Rome. Yet the four plays which Terence bor¬
rowed from him before that accident happened, are
still preserved in the Roman habit} and it is chiefly
from Terence that most people form their judgment
of Menander, the fragments that remain of him not
being sufficient to enable them to do it. The ancients
have said high tilings of Menander ; and we find the
old masters of rhetoric recommending his works as
the true patterns of every beauty and every grace of
public speaking. Quintilian declares, that a careful
imitation of Menander only, will satisfy all the rules he
has laid down in his Institutions. It is in Menander
that he would have his orator search for a copiousness
of invention, for a happy elegance of expression, and
especially for that universal genius which is able to ac¬
commodate itself to persons, things, and affections.
But Julius Cuesar has left the loftiest as well as the
justest praise of Menander’s works, when he calls '1 e-
rence only a Half-Menander. For while the virtues of
the Latin poet are so deservedly admired, it is impos¬
sible we should raise a higher notion of excellency than
to conceive the great original still shining with half its
lustre unreflected, and preserving an equal part ot its
graces, above the power of the best copier in the
world. Menander died in the 3d year of the i22d
Olympiad,
MEN [ 365 1 - M E N
jl nder Olympiad, as we are taught by the same old inscription
from which we learn the time of his birth. His tomb,
H ssel1 in Pausanias’s age, was to be seen at Athens, in the
u way from the Pirseus to the city, close by the hono¬
rary monument of Euripides. Quintilian, in his judge¬
ment of Afranius the Roman comedian, who imitated
him, censures Menander’s morals as much as he com¬
mends his writings; and his character, according to
Suidas, is, that he was a very “ mad fellow after wo¬
men.” Phtedrus has given him the gait and dress of a
most affected fop:
“ Unguento delibutus, vestitu adfluens,
“ Veniebat gressu delicatulo et languido.”
Lib. v. fab. 2.
MENANDRIANS, the most ancient branch of
Gnostics ; thus called from Menander their chief, said
by some, without sufficient foundation, to have been
a disciple of Simon Magus, and himself a reputed ma¬
gician.
He taught, that no person could be saved, unless he
were baptized in his name ; and he conferred a peculiar
sort of baptism, which rvould render those w ho received
it immortal in the next world : exhibiting himself to the
world, with the phrensy of a lunatic more than the
founder of a sect, as a promised saviour. For it appears
by the testimonies of Irenaeus, Justin, and Tertullian,
that he pretended to be one of the aeons sent from the
pleroma, or ecclesiastical regions, to succour the souls
that lay groaning under bodily oppression and servitude;
and to maintain them against the violence and strata¬
gems of the daemons that hold the reins of empire in
this sublunary world. As this doctrine was built upon
the same foundation with that of Simon Magus, the an¬
cient writers looked upon him as the instructor of Me-
nander. See Simonians.
MENASSEH Ben Israel, a celebrated rabbi,
horn in Portugal about the year 1604, was the son
of Joseph Ben Israel, and followed his father into Hol¬
land. Here he wras educated by Rabbi Isaac Uziel,
under whom he in a short time made such progress in
the Hebrew tongue, that at 18 years of age he suc¬
ceeded him in the synagogue of Amsterdam. In this
post he continued several years, and married Rachel of
the family of the Abarbanels, whom the Jews imagine
to be descended from King David. He afterwards
went to his brother Ephraim, a rich merchant, who
had settled at Basil ; by whose advice he entered into
trade. Some time after, the hopes of a more agree¬
able settlement induced him to come into England,
under the protectorship of Cromwell ; who gave him a
very favourable reception, and one day entertained him
at his table with several other learned divines. How¬
ever, he soon after passed into Zealand ; and died at
Middleburg about the year 1657. The Jews at Am¬
sterdam obtained his body, and interred it at their ex¬
pence. He was of the sect of the Pharisees ; had a
lively wTit, a solid judgment, great learning, and all
the virtues that can adorn private life. He wrote
many works in Hebrew, Latin, Spanish, and Eng¬
lish. The principal of those published in Latin, are,
1. His Conciliator; a learned and curious work, in
which he reconciles those passages o' Scripture which
seem to co - i-adict each other. 2. T)e resurrectione mor-
tuorum. F)e termino vita:. 4. Dissertatio dejragi-
Vol. XIII. Part II. '*•
htate kumana, ex lapsu Adami, deque Divino in bo no Mcnasseli
opcrc auxiiio. 5. types Israel. Dr Thomas Pococke 11
has written his life in English. Mendez.
MENDELSHON, Moses, that is, Moses the soil v ’
of Mendel, a Jew of Berlin, and one of the most cele¬
brated writers of Germany, died there in the year 1785
at the age of 57. His first attempt as an author was
soon after 1767, by a work entitled Jerusalem; in which,
besides other bold and unjustifiable opinions; he main¬
tains, that the Jews have a revealed law but not a re¬
vealed religion ; that opinions are not subjects of re¬
velation ; and that the only religion of the Jewish na¬
tion is that of nature. He acquired great honour by
bis Pheedon, or “ Discourses on the Immateriality and
Immortality of the Soul,” translated into the French
1773, 8vo ; in which he unfolds this important truth,
the great foundation of all morality, with the wisdom
of an enlightened philosopher and the charms of an ele¬
gant writer. In consequence of this excellent work,
he was styled the Jewish Socrates by some of the pe¬
riodical Writers ; but he wanted the firmness and cou¬
rage of the Grecian philosopher. His timidity, and
even pusillanimity, defects too common to speculative
men, prevented him from being of any essential service
to his nation ; of which he might have become the
benefactor by being the reformer. The pliancy of his
character, his soft, modest, and obliging disposition,
gained him the esteem alike of the superstitious and
of the incredulous. After all, he could never procure
admission to the Berlin society, or to the conversation
of the king of Prussia. At his death he received from
his nation those honours which are commonly paid to
their first rabbins. Contrary to an imprudent custom
prevalent among the Jews of burying their dead before
sunset, his interment Was delayed till 24 hours after he
expired. Though Mendelshon Was descended from a
respectable family, he was very poor. In early life he
entered into a counting-house of his own nation, where¬
in he greatly recommended himself by his capacity and
integrity in business : But philosophy and literature soon
became his principal occupation ; and to the famous
Lessing he was indebted for counsels which, without
diverting his attention from those pursuits that were
necessary to his subsistence, accelerated his progress in
his literary career. Even after the death of his bene¬
factor, Mendelshon retained for him the sincere st regard
and the most lively gratitude. Notwithstanding the
very strict regimen which he observed, he survived him
only a few years ; for his feeble frame and weak consti¬
tution were gradually and insensibly undermined by in¬
tense application to study.
MENDEZ Pinto,Ferdinand, was born at Monte-
mor-o-velho in Portugal, aftd was at first servant to a
Portuguese gentleman. In expectation of making a
fortune, he embarked for India in 1537' vesse^
being taken by the Turks on his passage, he was car¬
ried to Mocka, and sold to a Greek renegade, and
afterwards to a Jew, in whose possession he continued
till he was redeemed by the governor of Ormus, a I or-
tuguese fort. The governor procured him an oppoi-
tunity of going out to India, agreeable to his lirst de¬
sign. During a residence of twenty-one years in that
country, he was witness to very important transactions,
and experienced many singular adventures. He re¬
turned to Portugal in 1558, where he enjoyed the re-
3 S ward
M E . N [ 506 j MEN
Mendez, wai'd of his labours, after having been thirteen times
Mcndi- a slave and sixteen times sold. A very curious ac-
caiIts- count of his travels was written by himself, and pub-
“~'"v ^ lished at Lisbon, A. D. 1614, in folio. This work
was translated into French by Bernard Figuier, a Por¬
tuguese gentleman, and printed at Paris 1654, in 4to.
It is written in a very interesting manner, and in a
style more elegant than might have been expected
from a man whose whole life was spent in the camp
and in slavery. It elucidates a great variety of parti¬
culars relating to the geography, history, and man¬
ners of the inhabitants of China, Japan, Pegu, Siam,
Achem, Java, &c. Many of his facts appeared
fabulous, but their truth has been since ascertained.
INI. de Surgi compiled an interesting history from the
most singular facts in Mendez Pinto’s relation, which
he published in the Vicissitudes de la Fortune, Paris, 2
vols. 8vo.
MENDICANTS, or Begging Friars, several
orders of religious in Popish countries, who having no
settled revenues, are supported by the charitable con¬
tributions they receive from others.
This sort of society began in the 13th century 5 and
the members of it, by the tenor of their institution,
were to remain entirely destitute of all fixed revenues
and possessions ; though in process of time their num¬
ber became a heavy tax upon the people. Innocent
III. was the first of the popes who perceived the ne¬
cessity of instituting such an order j and accordingly
he gave such monastic societies, as made a profession
of poverty, the most distinguishing marks of his pro¬
tection and favour. They were also encouraged and
patronized by the succeeding pontiffs, when experi¬
ence had demonstrated their public and extensive use¬
fulness. But when it became generally known, that
they had such a peculiar place in the esteem and pro¬
tection of the rulers of the church, their number grew
to such an enormous and unwieldy multitude, and
swarmed so prodigiously in all the European provinces,
that they became a burden, not only to the people,
but to the church itself. The great inconvenience
that arose from the excessive multiplication of the
mendicant orders wras remedied by Gregory X. in a
general council, which he assembled at Lyons in 1272.
I or here all the religious orders that had sprung up
after the council held at Rome in 1215, under the
pontificate of Innocent III. were suppressed j and the
extravagant multitude of mendicants, as Gregory call¬
ed them, were reduced to a smaller number, and con-
. fined to the four following societies or denominations,
viz. the Dominicans, the Franciscans, the Carme-
RITES, and the Augustins or hermits of St Au¬
gustin.
As the pontiffs allowed these four mendigant orders
the liberty of travelling wherever they thought proper,
of conversing with persons of every rank, of instruct¬
ing the youth and multitude wherever they went \ and
as those monks exhibited, in their outward appearance
and manner of life, more striking marks of gravity and
holiness than were observable in the other monastic
societies, they arose all at once to the very summit of
fame, and were regarded with the utmost esteem and
veneration through all the countries of Europe. The
enthusiastic attachment to these sanctimonious beggars
•went so iar, that, as we learn from the most authentic
records, several cities were divided or cantoned out
into four parts, with a view to these four orders; the
fix-st part being assigned to the Dominicans, the second
to the Franciscans, the third to the Carmelites, and
the fourth to the Augustins. The people were un¬
willing to receive the sacraments from any other hands
than those of the mendicants, to whose churches they
crowded to perform their devotions, while living, and
were extremely desirous to deposit there also their re¬
mains after death : nor did the influence and credit
of the mendicants end here ; for we find in the history
of this and of the succeeding ages, that they were em¬
ployed not only in spiritual matters, but also in tem¬
poral and political affairs of the greatest consequence,
in composing the differences of princes, concluding
treaties of peace, concerting alliances, presiding in ca¬
binet councils, governing courts, levying taxes, and
other occupations, not only remote from, but absolutely
inconsistent with, the monastic character and profession.
Howevex*, the power of the Dominicans and Fi'ancis-
cans greatly surpassed that of the other two ordei’s: in¬
somuch that these two orders were, before the Reforma¬
tion, what the Jesuits have been since that happy and
gloi'ious period, the very soul of the hierarchy, the en¬
gines of the state, the seex-et springs of all the motions
of the one and the othei’, and the authors and di¬
rectors of every gxeat and impoi'tant event, both in the
religious and political world. By very quick pimgres-
sion their pride and confidence anived at such a pitch,
that they had the presumption to declare publicly, that
they had a divine impulse and commission to illustrate
and maintain the religion of Jesus ; they treated with
the utmost insolence and contempt all the different or¬
ders of the priesthood ; they affirmed, without a blush,
that the true method of obtaining salvation was reveal¬
ed to them alone; proclaimed, with ostentation, the
superior efficacy and virtue of their indulgencies '7 and
vaunted beyond measure their interest at the court of
heaven, and their familiar connexions with the Su¬
preme Being, the Virgin Mary, and the saints in glory.
By these impious wiles, they so deluded and captivated
the miserable, and blinded the multitude, that they
would not entrust any other but the mendicants with
the care of their souls. They retained their credit and*
influence to such a degree, towards the close of the 14th
century, that great numbers of both sexes, some in
health, others in a state of infirmity, and othei's at the
point of death, earnestly desired to be admitted into
the mendicant order, which they looked upon as a sure
and infallible method of rendering heaven propitious.
Many made it an essential part of their last wills, that
their bodies after death should be wrapped in old rag¬
ged Dominican or Franciscan habits, and interred
among the mendicants. For such was the barbarous
superstition and wretched ignorance of this age, that
people universally believed they should readily obtain
mercy from Christ, at the day of judgment, if they
appeared before his tribunal associated with the mendi¬
cant friars.
About this time, however, they fell under an uni¬
versal odium ; but being resolutely protected against
all opposition, whether open or secret, by the popes,
who regai-ded them as their best friends and most ef¬
fectual supports, they suffered little or nothing from
the efforts of their numerous adversaries. In the 15th
century,
M E N [ 507 j M E N
• century, besides their arrogance, which was excessive,
ac}' . a quax-relsome and litigious spirit prevailed among
them, and drew upon them justly the displeasure and
Me le- indignation of many. By affording refuge at this
11 ^jtime to the Beguins in their order, they became of¬
fensive to the bishops, and were hereby involved in
difficulties and perplexities of various kinds. They
lost their credit in the 16th century by their rustic
impudence, their ridiculous superstitions, their igno¬
rance, cruelty, and brutish manners. They discover¬
ed the most barbarous aversion to the arts and sciences,
and expressed a like abhorrence of certain eminent and
learned men, who endeavoured to open the paths of
science to the pursuits of the studious youth, recom¬
mended the culture of the mind, and attacked the
barbarism of the age in their writings and discourse.
Their general character, together with other circum¬
stances, concurred to render a reformation desirable,
and to accomplish this happy event.
Among the number of mendicants are also ranked
the Capuchins, Recollects, Minims, and others, who
are branches or derivations from the former.
Buchanan tells us, the mendicants in Scotland, un¬
der an appearance of beggary, lived a very luxurious
life 5 whence one wittily called them, not Mendicant
but Manducant friars.
MENE, a Chaldean word, which signifies “ he has
numbered or counted j” being one of the three words
that were written upon the wall by the hand that ap¬
peared to Belshazzar, the last king of Babylon, the
night that he was put to death. See Belshazzar.
MENECRATES, a physician of Syracuse, who
flourished about 360 B. C. is famous for his skill in
his profession, but much more for his vanity. He
would always be followed by some ol the patients he
had cured, and with Avhom he previously stipulated
that they should follow him wherever he went. One
appeared with the attributes of Hercules, another with
those of Apollo, and others again with those of Mer-
cuiy or iEsculapius 5 while he, clad in a purple robe,
with a golden crown on his head, and a sceptre in his
hand, presented himself, to the admiration of the pub¬
lic, under the name of Jupiter, and travelled through
different countries escorted by these counterfeit dei¬
ties. He once wrote the following letter to the king
of Macedon: Menecrates Jupiter to Philip, greeting.
Thou reignest in Macedonia, and I in medicine j thou
givest death to those who are in good health, I restore
life to the sick j thy guard is composed of Macedo¬
nians j the gods themselves constitute mine.” Philip
answered him in a word, that he wished him restored
to reason. Learning some time after that he wras in
Macedon, Philip sent for him, and invited him to an
entertainment. Menecrates and his companions were
placed on rich and lofty couches *, before which was
an altar, covered with the first fruits of the harvest ;
and, whilst an excellent repast was served up to the
other guests, perfumes and libations only were offered
to these new gods, who, unable to endure the affront,
hastily left the palace, in which they never more made
their appearance.
MENEDEMUS, a Greek philosopher, born at
Erythreum, was the son of Calisthenes, and one ol
Phedo’s followers. He was in the greatest esteem, and
enjoyed several important posts, in his own country.
He several times defended Erythreum with great bra- Mencde-
very, and died ol grid when Antigonus became master mus
of it. A person one day saying to him, “ It is a great H .
happiness to have what we desire,” he replied4 “ It is 1 elllllt‘]-
a much greater to desire nothing but what we have.”
Pie flourished about 300 B. C.
MENELAUS, the son of Atreus, and the brother
of Agamemnon, reigned at Sparta, wffien Paris de¬
prived him ol his wife Helen. This rape occasioned
the famous war of Troy. See Helen.
Menelaus, a mathematician in the reign of the
emperor Trajan, wrote three books on the Sphere,
which have been published by Father Marsenne.
MENES, born at This, a town of Thebais in Up¬
per Egypt, was the founder of the Egyptian empire.
He had three sons, viz. Athotis, who ruled after him,
at This and Thebes j Curudes, who in Low’er Egypt
founded the kingdom of Pleliopoli, which afterward
was the kingdom of Diospoli 5 and Necherophes, who
reigned at Memphis. It is thought this Menes reign¬
ed 117 years after the birth of Phaleg, son of Heber,
which w’as the very year of the dispersion of the people
throughout the whole earth. In building Memphis,
he stopped the Nile near it, by the invention of a
causeway 100 furlongs broad, and caused it to run
through the mountains.
MENIALS, domestic or household servants, who
live under their lord or master’s roof.
MENINGES, or Menynges, in Anatomij, a name
given to the dura and pia mater of the brain. See
Anatomy, N° 129.
MENINX, an island in the Mediterranean, to the
west of the Syrtis Minor. Supposed by Strabo and
Polybius to be Plomer’s country of the Lotophagi j
and hence Ptolemy and Eratosthenes denominate the
island Lotophagitis, with a cognomina! town Meninx.
It was the country of Yibius Gallus the emperor, and
of Volusianus. Now called Gcrbi and Larin.
MENIPPUS, a cynic philosopher of Phoenicia.
He was originally a slave, but obtained his liberty
with a sum of money, and became one of the greatest
usurers at Thebes. He grew so desperate from the
continual reproaches and insults to which he was daily
exposed on account of his meanness, that he destroyed
himself. He wrote 13 books of satires, which have
been lost.
MENIPPEAN {satira Menippea), a kind of sa¬
tire consisting of prose and verse intermixed. It is
thus called from Menippus a cynic philosopher who
delighted in composing satirical letters, &c. In imi¬
tation of him, Varro also wrote satires under the title
of Satira; Menippece: whence this sort ol composition
is also denominated Varronian satire.
Among the moderns there is a famous piece undei^
this title first published in 1594, against the chiefs of
the league, called also the Catholicon of Spain. It is
esteemed a masterpiece for the time.
MENISCUS, in Optics, a glass or lens, concave on
one side and convex on the other; sometimes also call¬
ed lunula. See Optics.
MENISPERMUM, Moonseed, a genus ot plants
belonging to the dioecia class, and in the natural me¬
thod ranking under the 1 ith order, Sarmentacece. See
Botany Index.
MENNITH, or Minnith, Judges xi. 33. a town
3 S 2
men [ 5°£ ] MEN
iVIennith, near Heshbon (Jerome), in Arabia Petrsea ) in a ili-
Menno- strict n3.mccl Ecostpolts oi' t'waity-tO'WTis^ ^Ccll<iriusj*
nit^ ^ There is also a Minnith mentioned Ezekiel xxvii. as
“ v being in a good wheat country: but whether the
same with the foregoing is uncertain ; though some
think that the first Minnith lay in the country ol Am¬
mon, (Wells).
MENNONITES, a sect in the United Provinces,
in most respects the same with those in other places
called Anabaptists.
They had their rise in 1536, when Menno Simon,
amative of Friesland, who had been a Romish priest,
and a notorious profligate, resigned his rank and office
in the Romish church, and publicly embraced the com¬
munion of the Anabaptists.
Menno was born at Witmarsum, a village in the
neighbourhood of. Bolswert in F riesland, in the year
1505, and died in 1561 in the duchy ol Holstein, at
the country seat of a certain nobleman not lar from the
city of Oldesloe, who, moved with compassion by a
view of the perils to which Menno was exposed, and
the snares that were daily laid for his ruin, took him
with certain of his associates into his protection, and
gave him an asylum. The writings of Menno, which
are almost all composed in the Dutch language, were
published in folio at Amsterdam in the year 1651.
About the year 1637, Menno was earnestly solicited
by many of the sect with which he connected himself,
to assume among them the rank and functions ol a
public teacher; and as he looked upon the persons
who made this proposal to be exempt from the fana¬
tical phrensy of their brethren at Munster, (though
according to other accounts they wTere originally of the
same stamp, only rendered somewhat wiser by their
sufferings^), he yielded to their entreaties. From this
period to the end of his life, he travelled from one
country to another with his wife and children, exer¬
cising his ministry, under pressures and calamities of
various kinds, that succeeded each other without inter¬
ruption, and constantly exposed to the danger of fall¬
ing a victim to the severity of the laws. East and
West Friesland, together with the province of Gro¬
ningen, wrere first visited by this zealous apostle of the
Anabaptists 5 from whence he dii'ected his course into
Holland, Guelderland, Brabant, and Westphalia, con¬
tinued it through the German provinces that lie on
the coasts of the Baltic sea, and penetrated as far as
Livonia. In all these places his ministerial labours
were attended w ith remarkable success, and added to
his sect a prodigious number of followers. Hence he
is deservedly considered as the common chief of almost
all the Anabaptists, and the parent of the sect that still
subsists under that denomination. Menno was a man
of genius, undirected by a very sound judgment: he
possessed a natural and persuasive eloquence, and such
a degree of learning as made him pass for an oracle in
the estimation of the multitude. He appears, more¬
over, to have been a man of probity, of a meek and
tractable spirit, gentle in his manners, pliable and ob¬
sequious in his commerce with-persons of all ranks and
characters, and extremely zealous in promoting prac¬
tical religion and virtue, which he recommended by
his example as well as by his precepts. The plan of
doctrine and discipline drawn up by Menno was of a
much more mild and moderate nature than that of the
furious and fanatical Anabaptists, whose tumultuous Menno.
proceedings have been recited under that article, but nites.
somewhat more severe, though more clear and con-' 
sistent than the doctrine of the wuser branches of that
sect, who aimed at nothing more than the restoration
of the Christian church to its primitive purity. Ac¬
cordingly he condemned the plan of ecclesiastical dis¬
cipline that was founded on the prospect of a new
kingdom, to be miraculously established by Jesus Christ
on the ruins of civil government and the destruction
of human rulers, and which had been the fatal and
pestilential source of such dreadful commotions, such
execrable rebellions, and such enormous crimes. lie
declared publicly his dislike of that doctrine, which
pointed out the approach of a marvellous reformation
in the church by the means of a new and extraordi¬
nary effusion of the Holy Spirit. He expressed his
abhorrence of the licentious tenets, which several of
the Anabaptists had maintained, with respect to the
lawfulness of polygamy and divorce ; and finally, con¬
sidered as umvorthy of toleration those fanatics who
were of opinion that the Holy Ghost continued to
descend into the minds of many chosen believers, in
as extraordinary a manner as he did at the first esta¬
blishment of the Christian church, and that he testified
this peculiar presence to several of the faithful by mi¬
racles, predictions, dreams and visions of various kinds.
He retained indeed the doctrines commonly received
among the Anabaptists, in relation to the baptism of
infants, the millenniam, or 1000 years reign of Christ
upon earth, the exclusion of magistrates from the
Christian church, the abolition of war, and the pro¬
hibition of oaths enjoined by our Saviour, and the
vanity as well as the pernicious effects of human science.
But while Menno retained these doctrines in a general
sense, he explained and modified them in such a
manner as made them resemble the religious tenets that
wrre universally received in the Protestant churches j
and this rendered them agreeable to many, and made
them appear inoffensive even to numbers who had no
inclination to-embrace them. It however so happened,
that the nature of the doctrines considered in them¬
selves, the eloquence of Menno which set them off to
such advantage, and the circumstances of the times,
gave a high degree of credit to the religious system of
this famous teacher among the Anabaptists, so that
it made a rapid progress in that sect. And thus it
was in consequence of the ministry of Menno, that the
different sorts of Anabaptists agreed together in ex¬
cluding from their communion the fanatics that dis¬
honoured it, and in renouncing all tenets that were
detrimental to the authority of civil government, and
by an unexpected coalition formed themselves into one
community.
Though the Mennonites usually pass for a sect of
Anabaptists, yet M. Herman Schyn, a Mennonite
minister, who has published their history and apology,
maintains, that they are not Anabaptists either in
principle or by origin. However, nothing can be
more certain than this fact, viz. that the first Men-
nomte congregations were composed of the different
sorts of Anabaptists, of those who had been always
inoffensive and upright, and of those who, before their
conversion by the ministry of Menno, had been sedi¬
tious fanatics : besides, it is alleged that the Menno¬
nites
MEN [ 509 ] MEN
^ ,0. nltes ilo actually retain, at this day, some of those
fj s. opinions and doctrines, which led the seditious and
u- —turbulent Anabaptists of old to the commission of so
many and such enormous crimes : such particularly is
the doctrine concerning the nature of Christ’s king¬
dom, or of the church of the New Testament, though
modified in such a manner as to have lost its noxious
qualities, and to be no longer pernicious in its inilu-
ence.
The Mennonites are subdivided into several sects ;
whereof the two principal are the Flandrians or Fle-
MINGIANS, and the Waterlandians. The opi¬
nions, says Mosheim, that are held in common by the
Mennonites, seem to be all derived from this fundamen¬
tal principle, that the kingdom which Christ establish¬
ed upon earth is a visible church or community, into
which the holy and just alone are to be admitted, and
which is consequently exempt from all those constitu¬
tions and rules of discipline that have been invented
by human wisdom, for the correction and reformation
of the wicked. This principle, indeed, was avowed
by the ancient Mennonites, but it is now almost whol¬
ly renounced : nevertheless, from this ancient doctrine,
many of the religious opinions that distinguish the
Mennonites from all other Christian communities,
seem to he derived : in consequence of this doctrine,
they admit none to the sacrament of baptism but
persons that are come to the full use of their reason j
they neither admit civil rulers into their communion,
nor allow any of their members to perform the func¬
tions of magistracy} they deny the lawfulness of re¬
pelling force by force, and consider wrar, in all its
shapes, as unchristian and unjust ; they entertain the
utmost aversion to the execution of justice, and more
especially to capital punishments ; and they also refuse
to confirm their testimony by an oath. The particu¬
lar sentiments that divided the more considerable so¬
cieties of the Mennonites are the following : The rigid
Mennonites, called the Flemingians, maintain with va¬
rious degrees of rigour, the opinions of their founder
Menno, as to the human nature of Christ, alleging
that it Avas produced in the womb of the C irgin by
the creating power of the Holy Ghost; the obligation
that binds us to wash the feet of strangers, in conse-
(juence of our Saviour’s command 5 the necessity of
excommunicating and avoiding, as one would do the
plague, not only avowed sinners, but also all those who
depart, even in some light instances pertaining to dress,
&c. from the simplicity of their ancestors 5 the con¬
tempt due to human learning, and other matters of less
moment. However this austere system declines, and
the rigid Mennonites are gradually approaching towards
the opinions and discipline of the more moderate or
Waterlandians,
The first settlement of the Mennonites, in the Unit- jvienno-
ed Provinces, was gianted them by William prince of nkes
Orange, towards the close of the i6th century ; but it 11
was not before the following century that their liberty ,^lei^orC:”.
and tranquillity were fixed upon solid foundations,
when, by a confession of faith published in the year
1626, they cleared themselves from the imputations of
those pernicious and detestable errors that had been
laid to their chai'ge. In order to appease their intes¬
tine discords, a considerable part of the Anabaptists of
Flanders, Germany, and Friesland, concluded their de¬
bates in a conference held at Amsterdam, in the year
1630, and entered into the bonds of fraternal commu¬
nion, each reserving to themselves a liberty of retain¬
ing certain opinions. This association was renewed
and confirmed by new resolutions, in the year 16495
in consequence of which, the rigorous laws of Menno
and his successors were, in various respects, mitigated
and corrected.
MENOLOGY, Menologium, (from gw, month,
and Asyas, discourse), is much the same as martyrology,
or calendar, in the Latin.
The Greek menologium is divided into the several
months in the year 5 and contains an abridgment of
the lives of the saints, with a bare enumeration of the
names of such whose lives were never written. The
Greeks have various menologies 5 and the Romans tax
them with inserting divers heretics in their menologies
as saints.—Baillet treats of them at large.
MENSA, in law books, a term that includes in it
all patrimony, and necessaries for livelihood.
MENSALS, Mens alia, in church history, such
livings as were formerly united to the tables of religi¬
ous houses, and hence called mensal benefices. See the
article Benefice.
MENSES, Catamenia, in Medicine, the monthly
evacuations from the uterus of women not with child
or not giving suck. They are so called from mensis
“ month,” the period wherein they return. They are
also called flowers, courses, &c. By the .7ewish law a
woman was unclean while the menstrual blood flowed 5
and the man who touched her, and the moveables she
had touched, rvere declared unclean.—Lev. xv, See
Midwifery and Medicine.
MENSORES, among the Romans, Avere harbingers,
Avhose business it Avas to go before the emperor, and fix
upon lodgings for him Avhen he traA^elled into any of the
provinces. They also marked out encampments, and
assigned every regiment its post.
Mensores Avere also land-surveyors, architects, or ap¬
praisers of houses and public buildings. I he distribu¬
tors of provisions in the army were called mensoresfru-
mentarii. And mensores Avas also an appellation given
to servants who Avaited at table.
MENSURATION.
Tj1 VERY branch of the mathematics which has for its
object the comparison of geometrical quantities, and
the determination of their proportions to each other,
may be comprehended under the general name Mensu¬
ration. So that, taking the term in its most extensive
sense, Avhatever is delivered in this Avork under the titles
Geometry, Trigonometry, Conic Sections, part
0f Algebra, and a very considerable portion of flux¬
ions, may be considered as constituting particular
branches of this general theory.
I he
510
MENSURATION.
Tables of The term mensuration, however, is also frequently
Measures, used in a less extensive sense, and is applied to a sys-
* tern of rules and methods by which numerical measures
of geometrical quantities are obtained. And it is to
this limited view of the subject that we propose to con¬
fine our attention in the present treatise. In general,
it will only be necessary to give the practical rules, as
we have already explained their foundation when treat¬
ing of Geometry, Conic Sections, and Fluxions j
but, in addition to the rules, in a few instances, we
shall give their demonstrations.
In all practical applications of mathematics it is ne¬
cessary to express magnitudes of every kind by num¬
bers. For this purpose a line of some determinate
length, as one inch, one foot, &c. is assumed as the
measuring unit of lines, and the number expressing how
often this unit is contained in any line, is the numeri¬
cal value or measure of that line.
A surface of some determinate figure and magnitude
is assumed as the measuring unit of surfaces, and the
number of units contained in any surface is the nume¬
rical measure of that surface, and is called its area. It
is usual to assume, as the measuring unit of surfaces,
a square, whose side is the measuring unit of lines.
A solid of a determinate figure and magnitude is in
like manner assumed as the measuring unit of solids,
and the number of units Contained in any solid is its so¬
lidity or content. The unit of solids is a cube, each of
whose edges is the measuring unit of lines, and conse¬
quently each of its faces the measuring unit of surfaces.
A right angle is conceived to be divided into 90
equal angles j and one of these, called an angle of one
degree, is assumed as the measuring unit of angles.
> The measures generally employed in the application
of mensuration to the common afiairs of life, and their
proportions to each other, are expressed in the follow¬
ing tables.
Table of Lineal Measures.
12 Inches = 1 Foot.
3 Feet rr 1 Yard.
6 Feet = 1 Fathom.
5i Yards = 1 Pole, Pod, or Perch.
40 Poles = 1 Furlong.
8 Furlongs rr 1 Mile.
3 Miles 1 League.
69!- Miles nearly — 1 Degree.
360 Degrees rr The earth’s circumference.
Note. An inch is supposed equal to three barley¬
corns in length.
4 Inches = 1 Hand, or handsbreadth.
5 Feet =r 1 Geometrical Pace.
4 Poles or 66 Feet 7 ^ .
100 Links each 7^0 Inches^ 1 -LnSllsh chain.
74 Feet = 1 Scots chain.
Table of Square Measures.
144 Square Inches = 1 Foot square.
9 Square feet — 1 Yard.
30^ Square Yards — 1 Pole.
40 Square Poles = 1 Rood.
4 Roods or 160 Square Poles = 1 Acre.
10 Square Chains 1 __
or 100,000 Square Links 3
640 Square Acres ==
1 Acre.
1 Square Mile.
Ofltigl,!
Lines aiK
Note. The Septs acre is to the English acre as
100,000 to 78,694.
Table of Solid Measures.
1728 Cubic Inches =r 1 Cubic Foot.
27 Cubic Feet == 1 Cubic Yard.
Note, 282 Cubic inches make 1 Ale Gallon.
231 1 Wine Gallon.
2150.42 a Winchester Bushel.
105 Cubic inches 1 Scots Pint.
The Wheat Firlot contains 2i|: Scots Pints.
The Barley Firlot 31 Scots Pints.
SECTION I.
OF THE MENSURATION OF RIGHT LINES
AND ANGLES.
The rules by which certain of the sides or angles of
a triangle are to be found, when other sides and angles
are given, might be considered as belonging to this
part of mensuration. But as these are fully investi¬
gated and explained in the article Plane Trigono¬
metry, it is not necessary to deliver them also here.
Referring therefore to that article, we shall employ the
remainder of this section in the application of trigono¬
metry to the mensuration of heights and distances.
Mensuration of Heights and Distances.
By the application of geometry the measurement of
lines, which, on account of their position or other cir¬
cumstances, are inaccessible, is reduced to the determi¬
nation of angles, and of other lines which are acces¬
sible, and admit of being measured by methods suffi¬
ciently obvious.
A line considered as traced on the ground may be
measured with rods or a Gunter’s chain of 66 feet;
but more expeditiously with measuring tapes of 50 or
100 feet. By these, if the ground be tolerably even,
and the direction of the line be traced pretty correctly,
a distance may, by using proper care, be measured
within about 3 inches of the truth in every 50 feet, so
that the error may not exceed the 2G0th part of the
whole line.
Vertical angles may be measured with a quadrant
furnished with a plummet and sights in the manner in¬
dicated by fig. 1. and fig. 2. ]f an angle of elevation p]ate
is to be measured, as the angle contained by a horizon- cccxxxn
tal line AC, and a line drawn from A to B the top of a
tower, hill, or other eminence *, or to a celestial body,
as a star, &c.; the centre of the quadrant must be fixed
at A, and the instrument moved about A, in the ver¬
tical plane, till to an eye placed at G the object B
be seen through the two sights D, d. Then will the
arch EF, cut off by the plumb-line AF, be the measure
of the angle CAB.
An angle of depression CAB (fig. 2.) is to be mea¬
sured exactly in the same manner, except that here the
i eye
MENSURATIO N.
0, ight eye is to be placet! at A the centre of the instrument,
^ and and the measure of the angle is the arch EF.
A les. But the most convenient instrument of any for ob-
^ serving angles, whether vertical or horizontal, is the
Theodolite. This instrument is variously constructed, so
as to admit of being sold at a higher or lower price, ac¬
cording to the degree of accuracy the purchaser may
wish to attain in his observations with it. An instru¬
ment of this kind is represented in fig. 3. Its principal
parts are, 1. A telescope and its level CC, D. 2. The
vertical arc BB. 3. The horizontal limb and compass
AA. The limb is generally about 7 inches in diame¬
ter. 4. The staff with its parallel plates E.
ffhe telescope CC in the best instruments is general¬
ly of the achromatic kind, in order to obtain a larger
field and greater magnifying power. In the focus of
the eye glass are two very fine hairs or wires, at right
angles to each other, whose intersection is in the plane
of the vertical arc. The object glass may be moved
to different distances from the eye glass by turning the
milled nut o, and thus may be accommodated to the
eye of the observer and distance of the object. The
screws for moving and adjusting the cross hairs, are
sunk a little within the eye tube. On the outside of
the telescope are two metal rings which are ground per¬
fectly true. These are to lie on the supporters e, <?, call¬
ed Y’s, which are fixed to the vertical arc. The ver¬
tical arc BB is firmly fixed to a long axis which is at
right angles to the plane of the arc. This axis is sus¬
tained by, and moveable on, the two supporters, which
are fixed firmly to the horizontal plate. On the upper
part of the vertical arc are the two Y’s for holding the
telescope 5 the inner sides of these are so framed as to
be tangents to the cylindric rings of the telescope, and
therefore bear only on one part. The telescope is con¬
fined to the Y’s by two loops which turn on a joint,
and may thei’efore be readily opened and turned back
when the two pins are taken out.
One side of the vertical arc is graduated to half de¬
grees, which are subdivided to every minute of a de¬
gree by a nonius. It is numbered each way 5 from o
to 90° towards the eye end for angles of altitude, and
from o to 50° towards the object end for angles of de¬
pression. On the other side of the vertical arc are two
ranges of divisions, one for taking the upright height
of timber in 100th parts of the distance between the in¬
strument and tree whose height is to be measured ; and
the other for reducing hypothenusal lines to such as are
horizontal.
The vertical arc is cut with teeth or a rack, and
may be moved regularly, and with ease, by turning the
milled nut h.
The compass is fixed to the upper horizontal plate,
its ring is divided into 360°, and the bottom of the box
w divided into four parts or quadrants, each of which is
subdivided to every io°. The magnetic needle is sup¬
ported in the middle of the box upon a steel pin finely
pointed, and there is a wire trigger for throwing the
needle off the point when not in use.
The horizontal limb AA consists of two jdates, one
moveable on the other, the outermost edge of the up¬
per plate is chamfered to serve as an index to the de¬
grees on the lower. The upper plate, together with
the compass, vertical arc, and telescope, are easily
turned round by a pinion fixed to the screw c ; d is a
nut for fixing the index to any part of the limb, and Of Right
thereby rendering it secure, while the instrument is Lines and
moved from one station to another. The horizontal, Angles. ^
limb is divided into half degrees, and numbered from ''
the right hand towards the left 5 the divisions are sub¬
divided by the nonius scale to every minute of a de¬
gree.
On the upper plate, towards the nonius, are a few
divisions similar to those on the vertical arc, giving the
tooth parts, for measuring the diameter of trees, build¬
ings, &c.
The whole instrument fits on the conical ferril of a
strong brass-headed staff, with three substantial wooden
legs. The top or head of the staff consists of two brass
plates E,parallel to each other: four screws pass through
the upper plate and rest on the lower plate ; by the
action of these the horizontal limb may be set truly le¬
vel, and for this purpose a strong pin is fixed to the out¬
side of the plate, and connected with a ball that fits in¬
to a socket in the lower plate ; the axis of the pin and
ball are so framed as to be perpendicular to the plate,
and consequently to the horizontal limb.
There are three adjustments necessary before the in¬
strument is applied to the mensuration of angles. In
the first place, care must be taken that the line of colli-
mation (that is, the line of vision passing through the
cross hairs) be exactly in the centre of the cylindric
rings round the telescope ; in the next place, that the
level be parallel to this line ; and, lastly, the horizon¬
tal limb must be so set, that when the vertical arc is at
zero, and the upper part moved round, the bubble
of the level will remain in the middle of the open
space.
When these adjustments are made, and the instru¬
ment is to be applied to practice, the lower plate of the
horizontal limb AA being supposed to remain unmoved
and parallel to the horizon, the telescope is to be di¬
rected successively to the different objects, whose angu¬
lar positions are to be determined, by means of the pi¬
nions at c and b ; (the former of which turns the upper
part of the instrument round in a horizontal plane, and
the latter turns the arc BB in a vertical plane). Then,
the angle which a line passing through the axis of the
telescope and any object makes with the horizon, will
be indicated by the arc of the vertical circle between o°
and the index engraved on the nonius scale H fixed to
the upper plate of the horizontal limb of the instru¬
ment. Also, the horizontal angle contained by two
vertical planes conceived to pass through any two ob¬
jects and the centre of the instrument, will be shewn by
the arc of the lower plate of the horizontal limb over
which the index engraved on the upper plate has passed
by the direction of the telescope being changed from
the one object to the other.
Having thus explained shortly the nature of the in¬
struments by which accessible lines and angles are to
be measured, and the manner of applying them, we
shall now show, by a few examples, how to find from
these other lines which cannot be determined by a di¬
rect measurement.
Fxample 1. Having measured AE, a distance ofi^g.
200 feet in a direct horizontal line from the bottom of
a tower, the angle BCD, contained by the horizontal
line CD : and a line drawn from C to the top of the
tower-,.
MENSURATION.
512
Of Right tower, was measured by a quadrant, or theodolite pla-
IJnes and ced at C, and found to be 47° ^ ^ °f
Angles. t[,e instrument was five feet above the line AE at its
l'"r v extremity E. It is required hence to determine AB
the height of the tower.
In the right-angled triangle CRD we have given
the side 0D=2OO feet, and the angle C=r470 30'.
And since by the rules of Plane Trigonometry,
rad. : tan. BCD :: DC : DB ;
By employing the logarithmic tables (see Loga¬
rithms), and proceeding as is taught in Plane
Trigonometry, we shall find DB=r 218.3 feet, lo
which add DAz^ECm^ feet, the height ot the instru¬
ment, and we have AB = 223.3 feet, the height of the
tower.
3?ig- 5. Ex. 2. Suppose a cloud, or balloon C, is seen at the
same time by two observers at A and B, and that these
stations are in the same vertical plane with the object
C, and on the same side of it. Also suppose that its
angles of elevation, viz. the angles A and B are 350
and 64°, and that AB, the distance between the ob¬
servers, is 880 feet. It is required hence to determine
CD the height of the object, also AC, BC its distances
from the two observers.
In the triangle CAB there are given the outward
angle CBD—64°, and one of the inward angles A=
350; hence the other inward angle ACB, which is
their difference, is given, and =64°—35°=:290.
Now in the triangle CAB
Sin. ACB : sin. A :: AB : BC,
and sin. ACB : sin. B :: AB : AC.
From these proportions, by actual calculation, BC will
be found = 1041 feet, and AC “ 1631 feet.
Again, in the right-angled triangle BCD
rad. : sin. B :: BC : CD.
Ex. 4. At B the top of a tower which stood on Qf
a hill near the sea shore, the angle of depression of a Lines;
ship at anchor (viz. the angle HBS), was 40 52'-, and Angle
at B, the bottom of the tower, its depression (namely, ^
the angle NRS) was 40 2'. Required AS the horizon- ^
tal distance of the vessel. and also RA, the height of the
bottom of the tower above the level of the sea, supposing
RB the height of the tower itself to be 54 feet.
From the angle BSA~IIBS=r4° 52', subtract the
angle RSA=NRS=:40 2', and there remains the angle
BSR — 50'. Also, from the angle HBArzrpo0 subtract
HBS=4° 52', and there remains SBRzzSj0 8'.
In the triangle SBR,
Sin. BSR : sin. SBR :: BR : SR j
Hence SR is found. Again, in the triangle SRA,
rad. : sin. RSA :: SR : AR,
and rad. : cos. RSA :: SR : AS.
From the first of these proportions we find AR—263
feet; and from the second, AS—-3690 feet.
Ex. 5. To measure the height of an obelisk CD, pjo
standing on the top of a declivity, two stations at A
and B were taken, one at the distance of 40, and the
other at the distance of 100 feet from the centre of its
base, which was in a straight line with the stations.
At the nearer station A, a line drawn from it to the
top of the obelisk was found to make an angle of 410
with the plane of the declivity j and at B, the more
remote station, the I ke angle vras found to be 230 45'.
Hence it is required to find the height of the obe¬
lisk.
From the angle CAD = 41°, subtract the angle
B — 230 45', and there remains the angle BCA“
17° 15'.
In the triangle BCA,
Kg. 6.
Hence CD will be found =936 feet.
Ex. 3. Wanting to know tbe breadth CD of a river,
and also the distance of an object A close by its side
from another object C on its opposite side, a base AB
of 400 yards was measured along the bank. Then, by
means of a theodolite, the angles CBA and CAB
were measured, and found to be 370 40' and 590 15'
respectively. It is required thence to determine the
breadth CD, and the distance AC between the objects
A and C.
This example diflers from the last only by the given
angles, and distances required, lying in a horizontal
instead of a vertical plane.
In the triangle ABC we have the base AB, also the
angles A and B, and consequently the angle C given.
And by Plane Trigonometry,
Sin. ACB : sin. B :: AB : AC.
Hence AC is found to be 246.2 yards.
Also, in the right-angled triangle ACD,
rad. : sin. A :: AC : CD.
Hence CD is found to be 211.6 yards.
Sin. BCA : sin. B AB : AC. Hence AC—81.49 feet.
And in the triangle ACD,
AC-j-AD : AC—AD :: tan.|(D+C) : tan. 4 (D—C).
Hence 4 (H—C) —40° 24”, which, subtracted from
\ (D + C), gives the angle ACD=27° 5't*
Lastly, in the triangle ACD,
Sin. ACD : sin. A :: AD : DC.
Hence DC, the height required, will be found to be
57.62 feet.
Ex. 6. Wanting to know the distance between two Fig-3
naccessible objects H and M, a base AB of 670 yards
was measured in the same plane with the objects, and
the following angles were taken at its extremities.
At A
C BAM =40° 16'
1 MAH—57 40
At B
ABH=420 2 2'
HBM=7i 7
Hence it is required to determine HM, the distance
between the objects.
In the triangle HAB we have the angle HBA:=:
42° 22', the angle HAB (= HAM + MAB)—
97°
MENSURATION.
0 56', and therefore the remaining angle AHB
42'. We have also the side AB = 670 yards.
0 ight 97
Li iani1 39
A les. Hence, by this proportion,
Sin. AHB : sin, HBA :: AB : AH.
5l3
202, the angle ADC (rrADB-j-BDC) ^43° 20', Of Right
the angle DCA (=DEA) —7$° 15' 25''. Hence we Lines and
get DC—256.97 fathoms, which is the remaining dis- Angies,
tance sought.
we find AH=7c6.8 yards.
Again, in the triangle MAB we have the angle
MAB=40° x6', the angle ABM (=ABH-f-HBM)
= 113° 29', and therefore the angle AMB—26° 15'.
Hence from the proportion,
Sin. AMB : sin. ABM :: AB : AM
we get AM =1389.4.
In the triangle HAM, besides the angle JIAM=
570 40' we have now the sides AH = 706.8, and
AM=i389.4 yards, to find the remaining side HM.
Therefore, proceeding according to the rules of trigo¬
nometry, we state this proportion,
AM-fAH : AM—AH :: tan. i(AHM-j-AMH) :
tan. 1 (AH M—AM H.)
Hence we find half the difference of the angles AHM
and AMH to be 30° 36', which taken from 6i° io',
half the sum, leaves 30° 34' for AMPI the least of the
two angles. Lastly, from the proportion
Sin. HMA : sin. HAM :: HA ; HM,
wc get HM =1174 yards, the answrer to the ques¬
tion.
Fi to. -E#. 7. There are three objects A, B, C, whose dis¬
tances asunder are known to be as follows j namely,
from A to B ic6i, from A to C 202, and from B to
C 131 fathoms. Now to determine the distance of D
a fourth object, or station, from each of the other three,
the angle ADB was measured with a theodolite, or
other suitable instrument ; and found to be 130 30', and
the angle CDB was found 290 50'. Hence it is re¬
quired to determine the distances DA, DB, and DC,
supposing DB the least of the three.
Let a circle be described about the points A, D, and
C} and let DB be produced to meet the circle again
in E, and draw AE, CE.
In the triangle AEC there are given the side AC =
202 fathoms, the angle ACE (=ADE. Geom. Sect.
II. Theor. 15.) =13° 30', and the angle CAE (=
CDE)=29° 50'- Hence (by Tricon.) we shall have
AE=68.7l6 fathoms.
In the triangle ABC, all its sides are given, and
hence the angle BAC will be found =35° 35'54" *,
to this, add the angle CAE, and the sum is the angle
EAB=65° 25/ 54"'
In the triangle ABE, we have given AB=io6.5,
AE=68.7i6, the angle BAE=65° 25' 54"; hence
we shall have the angle ABE=38° 43' 41", and the
angle AEB=75° 51'25". > ^
In the triangle ADE we have the side At.=68.7i6,
the angle AI)E=I30 30', and the angle AED=75°
51' 25". Hence we have AD—285.43 fathoms, which
is one of the distances required.
In the triangle ABD we have AB= 106.5, ^ an^c
ADB=ri3° 30', the angle DAB (=ABE—ADB)
250 13' 45". Hence BD, another of the distances
sought, will be found =194.45 fathoms.
Lastly, In the triangle ADC, there is given AC=
Vol. XIII. Part II.
Ex. 8. From a ship at sea a point of land was ob-Tig. ir.
served to bear E. by S. j and after sailing N. E. 12
miles, the same point was found to bear S. E. by E.
Plow far was the last observation made from the point
of land ?
Let A be the first position of the ship, B the second,
and C the point of land. In the triangle ABC we
have given the angle A=5 points or 56° 15', the angle
B = 9 points, or 101° 15', and the angle C=2 points
or 22° 30'. Also the side AB=i 2 miles. Hence (by
Tricon.) the side BC is readily found to be 26.073
miles.
There are various other instruments and methods by
which the heights or distances of objects may be found.
One of the most simple instruments, both in respect of
its construction and application, is a square, ABCD,
made of some solid material, and furnished with two^ig. 12.
sights on AB, one of its edges, and a plummet, fasten¬
ed to A, one of its angles, and having the two sides
BC, CD, which contain the opposite angle divided into
10, or 100, or 1000 equal parts.
To measure any altitude HK with this instrument. Fig. 13.
Pjet it be held in such a position that K, the top of the
object may be seen through the sights on its edge AB,
while its plane is perpendicular to the horizon $ then
the plummet will cut oft Bom the square a triangle
similar to that formed by the horizontal line AI, the
vertical line IK, and the line AK drawn from the eye
to the top of the object.
If the line of the plummet pass through D the oppo¬
site angle of the square, then the height KI will be
equal to AI, the distance of the eye from the vertical
line to be measured. If it meet AD, the side of the
square next the eye, in some point E between A and
D, then the triangles ABE, AIK, being similar, and
the angle ABE equal to the angle AKI, we have
AE : AB :: AI : IK. Let us now suppose AD=
AB to be divided into 1000 equal parts; then the
length of AE will be expressed by a certain number
of these parts *, thus the proportion of AE to AB, and
consequently that of AI to IK will be given } there¬
fore if AI be determined by actual measurement, we
may from the above proportion immediately find IK.
If again the line of the plummet meet DC the side of
the square opposite to the sights in F, then, in the similar
triangles AIK, BCI, the angle AKI is equal tgBICj
thus wre have BC : CF :: AI : IK. Hence IK is de¬
termined as before, and in each case by adding HI the
height of the eye, we shall have TIK the whole height
required.
SECTION II.
MENSURATION OF PLANE FIGURES.
Problem I.
To find the area of a parallelogram, whether it be
a square, a rectangle, a rhombus, or a rhem-
Rule
514
Of Plane
Figures.
rig. 14.
rig- is-
rig. 16.
MENSURATION.
Rule I.,
Multiply the length by the perpendicular breadth,
and the product -will he the area.
This rule is demonstrated in Geometry, Sect. IV.
Theor. 5.
Ex. I. Required the area of a square ARCD, whose
side AB is io^ inches.
Here ic-J X ioi or 10.5 X 10.5=110.25 square inches
is the area required.
Ex. 2. Required the area of a rectangle EFGH,
whose length EF is 13.75 chains, and breadth FG is
9.5 chains.
Here 13.75 X 9.5=130.625 stluare chains is the
area, which, when reduced to acres, &c. is 13 ac. o ro.
10 y?o.
Ex. 3. Required the area of a parallelogram KLMN,
whose length KL is 37 feet, and perpendicular breadth
NO is 5^ or 5.25 feet.
In this example the area is 37 X 5-25=194.25 square
feet, or 21.583 square yards.
Add together the squares of the sides about the right of pJn
angle, and the square root of the sum will be the hypo- Figure
thenuse.
2. When the hypothenuse and one of the sides about
the right angle is given, to find the other side.
From the square of the hypothenuse subtract the
square of the given side, and the square root of the re¬
mainder will be the other side.
This rule is deduced from Theor. 13. Sect. IV.
Geometry.
Example 1. In a right-angled triangle ABC, the Fig, 9
sides AB and AC, about the right angle, are 33 feet
and 56 feet; what is the length of the hypothenuse
BC?
Here 332 + 562=3i36 + io89=4225,
and y'(4225) = 65 feet, =the hypothenuse BC.
Ex. 2. Suppose the hypothenuse BC to be 65 feet,
and AB one of the sides about the right angle to be 33
feet ) what is the length of AC the other side ?
Here 652—33z=4225—1089—3136 ;
and v/(33i6)=56 feet=the side AC.
Problem III.
Rule II.
To find the area of a triangle.
As radius,
To the sine of any angle of the parallelogi-am,
So is the product of the sides including the angle,
To the area of the parallelogram.
To see the reason of this rule it is only necessary to
observe, that in the parallelogram KLMN, the per¬
pendicular breadth NO is a fourth proportional to ra-
dtiis, sine of the angle K, and the oblique line KN,
(Trigonometry), and is therefore equal to -
rad.
XKN : therefore the area of the figure is ^
5 rad.
X KN x KL, which expression is the same as the result
obtained by the above rule.
Ex. Suppose the sides KL and KN are 36 feet, and
25-5 feet, and the angle K is 58°, required the area.
Here it will be convenient to employ the table of lo¬
garithms given at the end of the article Logarithms.
The operation may stand thus,
log. rad. 10.00000,
log. sin. 58° 9.92842
log. (36X 25.5)=log. 36-Flog. 25.5. 2.96284
log. of area
2.89126
area= 778.5 square feet.
Problem II.
Having given any two sides of a right-angled tri-
angle, to find the remaining side.
Rule.
1. M hen the sides about the right angle are given,
to find the hypothenuse.
Rule I.
Multiply any one of its sides by the perpendicular
let fall upon it from the opposite angle, and half the
product will be the area.
The truth of this rule is proved in Geometry, Sect.
IV. Theor. 6.
Example. What is the area of a triangle ABC,
whose base AC is 40, and perpendicular BD is 14.52
chains ?
The product of the base by the perpendicular, orjrjg, jg,
40 X 14.52, is 580.8' square chains, the half of which,
or 290.4 sq. ch.— 2<) ac. o r. 6.4 po. is the area of the
triangle.
Rule II.
As radius,
To the sine of any angle of a triangle,
So is the product of the sides including the angle,
To twice the area of the triangle.
This rule follows immediately from the second rule
of Prob. I. by considering that the triangle KNL
(fig. 16.) is half the parallelogram KNML.
Example. What is the area of a triangle ABC,Fig. R
whose two sides AB and AC are 30 and 40, and the
included angle A is 28° 57' ?
log. rad.
Operation hy Logarithms.
log. (30 X 40)=log. 304-iog. 40.
log. sin. 28° 57'
log. of twice area
twice area= 580.85
area 290.42
10.00000
3.07918
9.68489
2,76407
Rule
MENSURATION.
Rule III.
Of ane
F res. When the three sides are given, add together the
^ three sides, and take half the sum. Next, subtract
each side severally from the said half sum, thus obtain¬
ing three remainders. Lastly, multiply the said half
sum, and those three remainders all together, and ex¬
tract the square root of the last product for the area of
the triangle.
SIS
gdeisAB—BC, it will readily appear that, putting Of Plane
2 s for the perimeter of the triangle ABC, we have Figures.
FC (=AB-f BC AC) —2s ‘ v ;
CG (=AB + BC — AC) =2 .y—2 AC,
/C (—AC-^AB—Bcj- 25—2BC,
g C (—AC— |AB —BC j j=:2 5—2 AB.
Fij ).
This practical rule is deduced from the following
geometrical theorem. T/ie area of a triangle is a
mean'proportional between two rectangles, one of which
is contained by half the perimeter of the triangle, and
the excess of half the perimeter above any one of its
sides ; and the other is contained by the excesses of half
the perimeter above each of the other two sides. As this
theorem is not only remarkable, but also of great utili¬
ty in mensuration, we shall here give its demonstra¬
tion.
Let ABC then be any triangle ; produce AB, any
one of its sides, and take BD, and B d, each equal to
BC ; join CD and Cd, and through A draw a line pa¬
rallel to BC, meeting CD and C d produced in E and
e; thus the angle AED will be equal to the angle
BCD, (Geometry, Sect. I. Theor. 21.), that is, to
the angle BDC or ADC, (Sect. I. Theor. 11.) •, and
hence AEzrAD (Sect. I. Theor. 12.) ; and in like
manner, because the angle Ke d is equal to the angle
BC <7, that is, to the angle B r/C, or Ade} therefore
A err A d.
On A as a centre, at the distance AD or AE, de¬
scribe a circle meeting AC in F and G 5 and on the
same centre, with the distance A o? or A e, describe an¬
other circle meeting AC in f and g, and draw BIT
and B h perpendicular to CD and C d. Then, because
BD, BC, B d are equal, the point C is in the circum¬
ference of a circle, of which D is the diameter, there¬
fore CD and C d are bisected at H and h (Sect. II.
Theor. 6.) and the angle DC d is a right angle, (Sect.
II. Theor. 17.), and hence the figure CHB h is a rect¬
angle, so that B h = CH =~ CD, and BH=C/^zz
4 C </.
Join BE, and Be, then the triangle BAC is equal
to each of the triangles BEC, BeC (Sect. IV. Theor.
2. Cor. 2.) 5 but the triangle BEC is equal to 4 EC X
BH (Sect. IV. Theor. 2.), that is to 4 FC X C ; and
in like manner the triangle B <? C is equal to 4 e F X
B h, that is to 4 c C X CD, therefore the triangle ABC
is equal to 4 FC X C c/, and also to 4 ^ C X CD.
Now since CD : Cd :: CE X CD : CE X Cr/y Sect. IV.
and also CD : C d :: CeX CD : C eX C<7 4 Theor.3.
Therefore CE X CD : CE X C </:: C <? X CD : Ce X Cd;
that is, because CE X CD—FC X CG, and C e X C d~
fCxCg (Sect. IV. Corollaries to Theor. 28. and 29.),
FCxCG: CE X C <7 :: CexCD : fCxCg;
which last proportion (by taking one-fourth of each of its
terms, and substituting the triangle ABC for its equi¬
valent values 4 CE X C t/ and 4 C e X CD) gives us
4 FC x 4CG : trian. ABC :: trian. ABC : 4/C X\Cg.
Now, if it be considered that the radius of the circle
Put now a, b, c for the sides AC, BC, and AB respec¬
tively, then 4 FC—5, f GC=5—c, 4 fC~s-—b, fCg
—5—c ; thus the last proportion becomes
5 X Cs—a) • Irian. ABC:: trian. ABC: (5—li) x (5—c)
which conclusion, when expressed in words at length, is
evidently the proportion to be demonstrated.
And as a mean proportional between two quantities
is found by taking the square root of the product, it
follows that the area of the triangle ABC, which is a
mean between 5 X —a) and (5—b') X (s—c)» is
equal to
5 X {s—a) X (5—b) X (s—c) ^j-
which formula, when expressed in words at length, gives
the preceding rule.
Exa))iple. Required the area of a triangle whose
three sides are 24, 36, and 48 chains respectively.
Here 244-364-48=108 = the sum of the three sides.
And —^ — C4r= half that sum,
2
Also 54—24=30, the first remainder54—36—
18, the second remainder j and 54—48=6, the third
remainder.
The product of the half sum and remainders is
54X30 X x8 X 6=174960.
And the square root of this product is
>v/(i7496o)=4i8.28 sq.ch. the area required.
Problem IV.
To find the area of a trapezoid.
Rule.
Add together the two parallel sides, then multiply
their sum by the perpendicular breadth, or distance be¬
tween them, and halt the product will be the area.
This rule is demonstrated in Geometry, Sect. I v.
Theor. 7.
Example. Required the . area of the trapezoid AB Fig. ao.
CD, whose parallel sides AB and DC are 7.5. and
12.25 chains, and perpendicular breadth DE is 15.4
chains.
The sttm of the parallel sides is 7.54-12.25—19.7.5*#
which multiplied by the breadth is
I9-75X I5-4=3°4-I5 >
and half this product is ,
154/^^152.075 sy. ch. — 15 gt. 33,2/is-
2
the area required.
3 1 2
Problem
>i6
Of Plane
Figures.
M E N S U B A T I 0 N.
Problem V.
To find the area of any trapezium.
sides, which is demonstrated in Theor. 2$. beet. I.
Geometry.
Problem VIII.
Of Plane
Fig. ax.
Fig'. 32 .
Rule.
Divide the trapezium into two triangles by a diago¬
nal, then find the areas of these triangles, and add them
together.
]Sote If two perpendiculars be let fall on the diago¬
nal from the other two opposite angles, the sum of these
perpendiculars being multiplied by the diagonal, half
the product will be the area of the trapezium. rlhe
reason of this rule is sufficiently obvious.
Example. In the trapezium ABCD the diagonal
AC is 42, and the two perpendiculars BE, DF are 16
and 18 : What is its area ?
Here the sum of the perp. is l6-f-i8~34, which
multiplied by 42, and divided by 2 gives
^4 ^ ^14 the area.
2
Problem VI.
To find the area of an irregular polygon.
Rule.
To find the diameter and circumference of a cir¬
cle, the one from the other.
Rule 1
As 7 is to 22, so is the diameter to the circumfer¬
ence, nearly.
As 22 is to 7, so is the circumference to the diame¬
ter, nearly.
Rule II.
As 113 is to 355, so is the diameter to the circum¬
ference, nearly.
As 355 is to 113, so is the circumference to the
diameter, nearly.
Rule III.
As 1 is to 3.1416, so is the diameter to the circum¬
ference, nearly.
As 3.1416 is to 1, so is the circumference to the
diameter, nearly.
Draw diagonals dividing the proposed polygon into
trapeziums and triangles 5 then find the areas of all these
separately, and add them together for the content of
the whole polygon. The reason of this rule, and the
manner of applying it, are sufficiently obvious.
Problem VII.
To find the area of a regular polygon.
Rule.
Multiply the perimeter of the polygon, or sum of
its sides, by the perpendicular drawn from its centre
on one of its sides, and take half the product for the
area.
This rule is only in effect resolving the polygon into
as many triangles as it has sides, by drawing lines from
its centre to all its angles, then taking the sum of their
areas for the area of the figure.
Example. Required the area of a regular pentagon
ABODE, whose side AB, or BC, &c. is 25 feet, and
perpendicular HK is 17.2 feet.
Here 25 X 5=125:= the perimeter,
And 125=17.2=2150,
And its half I075=the area required.
JScte. If only the side of the polygon be given, its
perpendicular may be found by the following proportion.
As radius,
"To the tan. of half the angle of the polygon,
So is half the side of the polygon,
To the perpendicular.
And here, as well as in all other trigonometrical cal¬
culations, we may employ the table of logarithmic sines
and tangents given in the article Logarithms.
The angle of the polygon, that is, the angle contain¬
ed by any two of its adjacent sides, will be found from
this theorem. The sum of all its interior angles is equal
to twice as many right angles, wanting four, as it has
Note. The result obtained by the first rule, which is
the least accurate of the three, will not differ from the
true answer by so much as its 2400th part. But that
obtained by the second rule, which is the most accurate,
wull not differ by so much as its lOOOOOOOth part.
The proportion of the diameter of a circle to its cir¬
cumference is investigated in Geometry, Sect. VI.
Prop. 6. Also in Fluxions, § 137 and § 140. The
manner of finding the first and second rules, and others
of the same kind, is explained in Algebra, Sect. XXI.
But it is impossible to express exactly, by finite num¬
bers, tbe proportion of the diameter of the circle to its
circumference.
Example. 1. To find the circumference of a circle
whose diameter is 20.
By the first rule,
20X 22 , .
7 : 22 :: 20 : =62^ the answer.
7
Or by the third rule 3.1416 X 20=62.832 the answer.
Ex. 2. The circumference of a circle is 10 feet, what
is its diameter ?
By the second rule,
355 : ll3
:: IQ :
113X 10
355
.183
1 the answer.
Problem IX.
To find the length of any arch of a circle*
Rule I.
As 180 is to the number of degrees in the arch, so
is 3.1416 times the radius to its length.
To see the reason of this rule it is only necessary to
consider, that 3.1416 times the radius is (by last rule)
equal to half the circumference, or to an arch of 1800,
and that the length of an arch is proportional to the
number of degrees it contains.
Example.
MENSURATION.
;ane Example. Required the length of the arch AEB,
res. whose chord AB is 6, the radius AC or CB being 9.
180
1 Draw CD perpendicular to the chord, then CD will
1% bisect the chord in D, and the arch in E. Now in
the right-angled triangle ACD, there is given the hy-
pothenuse ACzrp, and the side AD=3 ; hence, by tri¬
gonometry, the angle ACE will be found to contain
190 28'TBo= I9471 degrees. The double of this, or
38.942, is the number of degrees in the whole arch
AEB. Then by the rule
„ 0 9 X 3.1416 X 38.942
180 : 38.942 :: 9 X :    y
=6.11701 the ansiver.
Rule II.
From 8 times the chord of half the arch subtract the
chord of the whole arch, and y of the remainder will be
the length of the arch nearly.
This rule may be demonstrated briefly thus. Let a
denote an arch of a circle j then from the series expres¬
sing the sine of an arch in terms of the arch, (see
Fluxions, § yo. I2.r. 3. also Trigonometry) we have,
putting rad. = 1,
Therefore, if the arch a be small, so that a5 is a very
small quantity, then
Sm. a = ‘.r ci
In like manner we have
-7; nearly.
48
Sin.-Ja = ia 7— nearly.
384
By means of the two last equations exterminate the
quantity a3, and the resulting equation is
16 sin. y a— 2 sin. a = 3 ff.
But 16 sin. y 0 = 8 chord a, and 2 sin. 4 chord a.
Therefore 8 chord ^ a — chord a~ ^a.
Here we have supposed the radius of the circle to be
unity; but the same must evidently be true, whatever
be the radius of the circle.
Example. Suppose as before, that the chord AB is
6, and the radius AC is 9. Then CD= y'(CA1—AD*)
= V72 = 8.4852814, and DE = 9—8.4852814 =
0.5147186,
and hence AE= ^/(AD*-hI)E*)=3.043836.
Then by the rule
3.043836x8-6^^
3
is the length of the arch, nearly the same as before.
Problem X.
To find the area of a circle.
Rule I.
Multiply half the circumference by half the diame¬
ter, and the product will be the area..
Rule II.
517
Of Plane
Figures.
Multiply the square of the diameter by .7854, and
the product will be the area.
The first of these rules has been demonstrated in
Geometry, Sect. VI. Prop. 3. And the second rule
is deduced from the first, as follows. It appears from
Prop. 6. Sect. VI. Geometry, that the diameter of a
circle being unity, its circumference is 3.1416 nearly j
therefore, by the first rule, its area is iX3.i4I6-f-4
=.7854. But circles are to one another as the squares
of their diameters, (Prop. 4.) therefore, putting d for
the diameter of any circle, 1 : J* :: .7854 : .7854 d*
= the area of the circle whose diameter is d.
Example. What is the area of a circle whose dia¬
meter is 7.
By the second rule 7 X 7 X •7854:=38-4846 the area.
By the first rule 7 X 3.1416= the circumference.
Then = 7 x 7 X -7854 the area, the.
4
same as before.
Problem XL
To find the area of any sector of a circle.
Rule I.
Multiply the radius by half the arch of the sector^
and the product will be the area, as in the whole circle.
Rule II.
4
As 360 is to the degrees in the arc of the sector, so
is the area of the whole circle to the area of the sector.
The first of these rules follows easily from the rule for
the whole area, by considering that the whole circum¬
ference is to the arch of the sector, as the whole area to
the area of the sector, that is,
circum. : arch of sect. :: rad. x4 circum.: area of sect.
Hence area of sect. — rad. Xi arch of sect.
The second rule is too obvious to need any formal
proof.
Example. To find the area of a circular sector ACB Fig. 23.
whose arch AEB contains 18 degrees, the diameter
being 3 feet.
1, By the first rule.
First 3.1416x3=9-4248 the circum.
And 360 : 18 :: 9.4248 : .47124 the arch of secto
Then .47I24X3-M—35343 the area“
2. By the second rule.
First .7854X3,= 7-0686 the area of the circle.
Then 360 ; 18 :: 7.0686 : -35343 the ar«a-
Jl RGBLEKl.
MENSURATION.
Of Plane
Figures. PROBLEM XIX.
To find the area of a segment of a circle.
Rule I.
Tind the area of the sector having the same arch
■with the segment by the last problem. Find also the
area contained by the chord of the segment and the
tvro radii of the sector. Then take the sum of these
two for the answer when the segment is greater than a
semicircle, or take their difference when it is less than
a semicircle. As is evident by inspection of the figure
of a segment.
Fig. 23. Example. To find the area of the segment AEBDA,
its chord AB being 12, and the radius AC or BC 10.
First, as AC : AD :: rad. : sin. 36° 52^11:36.87
degrees, the degrees in the angle ACE or arch AE.
And their double, or 73.74 = the degrees in the whole
arch AEB.
Now .7854X400=314.16 the area of the whole circle.
Therefore 360° : 73.74 :: 314.16 : 64.3504= area of
the sector CAEB.
Again (CA*—AD*) = (100—-36) = \/ 64 = 8
= DC. *
Therefore AD X DC = 6x8= 48 = area of the tri¬
angle.
Hence sector ACBA — triangle ACB = 16.3504 the
area of seg. AEBDA.
Problem XIII.
To find the area of any segment of a parabola,
that is the space included by any arch of a pa¬
rabola, and the straight line joining its extre¬
mities.
Rule.
Multiple the base of the segment by its height, and
take of the product for the area.
This rule is demonstrated in Prop. 12. Part I. Co¬
nic Sections.
the axes of the ellipse, (Conic SECTIONS, Part II. 0f p]a;
Prop. 22.) that is, to the area of a circle, the square of Fi„ur?:
whose diameter is equal to the product of the axes.
But by Prob. X. the area of a circle is equal to the
square of the diameter mtiltiplied by .7854 \ therefore
the area of an ellipse is equal to the product of the axes
multiplied by the same number .7854.
Example. If the axes of an ellipse, ABCD, be 35 p.
and 25. What is the area ? a' *■
35 X 25 X .7854=687.225 the area.
ISote. As to hyperbolic areas, the mathematical
reader will lind formulas for their exact mensuration in
Fluxions, § 152. Ex. 4. and 5.
Problem XV.
To find nearly the area of a figure bounded by
any curve line A a a" a", See. P, and a straight
line BQ and AB, PQ two other straight lines
drawn from the extremities of the curve per¬
pendicular to BQ.
Rule.
Let BQ, the base of the figure, be divided into any pjg.
even number of equal parts by the perpendiculars b a,
b' a!, b'' a", &c. which meet the curve in the points a,
a', a"f &c.
Let F and L denote the first and last perpendiculars
AB and PQ.
Let E denote the sum of all the remaining even per¬
pendiculars, viz. a b, a" b", a"" b"", the second, fourth,
sixth, &c.
Let R denote the sum of the remaining perpendicu¬
lars, viz. a! b\ a!" b"\ &.c.
And put D for B Z>, or bb\ &c. the common distance
between the perpendiculars.
Then the area of the figure will be nearly equal to
■yD x (F-f L-{-4 E + 2 R) }
and the approximation will be so much the more accu¬
rate according as the number of perpendiculars is the
greater.
Fig. 24. Example. The base AB of a parabolic segment
ACB is 10, and its altitude CD, (that is, the greatest
line that can be drawn in the segment perpendicular to
the base AB) is 4 : What is its area ?
Here 10X4X
= 267 the area.
Problem XIV.
To find the area of an ellipse.
Rule.
Multiply the product of the two axes by the number
.7854 for the area of the ellipse.
For the area of an ellipse is equal to the area of a
circle whose diameter is a mean proportional between
EemonstratioJi. Join the tops of the first and third
perpendiculars by the line A a' meeting the second per¬
pendicular in E, and draw CD through a so as to form
the parallelogram A a' DC; then the space bounded
by the curve line A a a' and the three straight lines
AB, B b', b' a' will be made up of the trapezoid
AB b' a', and the space bounded by the arch A a a!
and its chord A a'. Now if the arch A a n' be small,
this last space will be nearly' two-thirds of the parallelo¬
gram AD, for it will be nearly equal to the area con¬
tained by the straight line A a', and an arch of a para¬
bola passing through the points A, o, a', and having
a b for a diameter, which area is 7 of its circumscribing
parallelogram. (Conic'Sections, Part I. Prop. 12).
iherefore the space A. a a' b' BA will be nearly equal
to the sum of the trapezoid AB b'd and 7 of the pa¬
rallelogram AD, which sum is evidently equal to 7 of
the trapezoid AB b’ af, together with 7 of the trapezoid
CB b1 D.
nne CB £;D. Now the area of the trapezoid AB b' ci is
^ AB±a^xB^ (Geometry, Sect. IV. Theor. 7.)
2 '
__ — x 2B and in like manner the area of the
2.
trapezoid CB Z/D is  ^  XBZ>'rr:aZ>X2BZ»;
therefore the area of the figure Kaa! b' B is nearly
AB-f-a' b'
MENSURATION.
tX
-X 2B Z»+tX«Z>x 2B b
=:y(AB-|-4a b-\-a' Z»')B b.
519
and Geometry, Sect. IV. Theor. 12.), that is, in num- Of Plane
hers, 20 : 12 :: 8 ; III, therefore Hlrz^. In like Figures,
manner we find m 34, and r ^
— xj\/19. Therefore
F+L(=HI+MD) = 16.8
4E(=.'4»i«-f-4r .s) = 68.8399
2R(=2i>gO = 17.6363
The figure HIDM = 103.2762
to which adding FIH, considered as a portion of a pa¬
rabola, we have 75.245 f°r ^ie area °f the hyperbola.
In the very same wTay it may be shewn that the area
of the figure a! a" a'" b'" b' is nearly
4(«' Z/ +4 a" b" + a'" b'") X B b,
and that the area of the figure a'" n‘v PQ b"' is nearly
4(a'" i"'4-4niy Ziiv-fPQ) x B
Therefore, the area of the whole figure bounded by
the curve line AP, and the straight lines AB, BQ, QP,
is nearly equal to the sum of these three expressions,
namely to
f AB + PQ 7
|B Z x i +40 b+a" Z»"+o!v Ziv) [.
t-}-20' b'-\-a"' b"') J
as was to be demonstrated.
7. Example 1. Let it be required to find the area of the
quadrant ABC, whereof the radius AC—1.
Let AC be bisected by the perpendicular DE, and
let CD be divided into four equal parts by the perpen¬
diculars m n, p q, r s. Now because CA= 1, therefore
CDrr-§-, C r-=.\, C p~^ C m~\. Hence DE =
v'CEC2-—CD2)=r V'C 1—f )=r-Jv/3 j and in like manner
r p q—3 l *%sJT^ m n-\sj 63. Therefore
F-f-L^zi-J-J^ = 1.8660
4^=4-^/=: 7-^7^7
2H=±S/Ts = i-9365
The sum 114792
Multiply by 4 D — A
The product is *47^3
Subtract the triangle CDErr *2165
There remains the sector CBE = .2618
The triple of which is the quadrant ABC= *7^54
3. Ex. 2. To find the area of the hyperbola FDM, of
which the absciss FMir: 10, the semiordinate MDor 12,
and semitransverse CF—15.
Let FM be divided into five equal parts by the semi¬
ordinates HI, mn,pq, rs. Thus CHrriy* Cm—ig,
Cp~ 21, C rzr23, CM—25. Now, since from the
nature of the curve, -^/(CAi1—CI*) : MD :: \/CH*
—CF*) : HI (Conic Sectionsj Part III. Prop. 19.
Of LAND-SURVEYING.
The instruments most commonly employed in land-
surveying are the Chain, the Plane Table, and Cross.
A statute acre of land being 160 square poles, the
chain is made 4 poles, or 66 feet in length, that 10
square chains, (or 100,000 square links) may be equal
to an acre. Hence each link is 7.92 inches in length.
The plane table is used for drawing a plan of a field,
and taking such angles as are necessary to calculate its
area. It is of a rectangular form, and is surrounded
by a moveable frame, by means of which a sheet of
paper may be fixed to its surface. It is furnished with
an index by which a line may be drawn on the paper .
in the direction of any object in the field, and with
scales of equal parts by which such lines may be made
proportional to the distances of the objects from the
plane table when measured by the chain, and its frame
is divided, into degrees for observing angles.
The cross consists of two pair of sights set at right
angles to each other upon a staff' having a pike at the
bottom to stick into the ground. Its use is to deter¬
mine the points where a perpendicular drawn from any
object to a line will meet that line y and this is eftected
by finding by trials a point in the line, such that the
cross being fixed over it so that one pair of the sights
may be in the direction of the line, the object from
which the perpendicular is to be drawn may be seen
through the other pair 5 then the point thus found will
be the bottom of the perpendicular, as is evident.
A theodolite may also be applied with great advan¬
tage to land-surveying, more especially w hen the ground
to be measured is of great extent.
In addition to these, there are other instruments em¬
ployed in surveying, as the perambulator, which is used
for measuring roads and other great distances. Levels,
with telescopic or other sights, which are used to de¬
termine how much one place is higher or lower than
another. An ofsett-staff for measuring the ofsetts and
other short distances. Ten small arrows, or rods of iion
or wood, which are used to mark the end of every
chain length. Pickets or staves with flags to be set up
as marks or objects of direction 5 and lastly, scales,
compasses, &c. for protracting and measuring the plan
upon paper.
The observations and measurements are to be regu¬
larly entered as they are taken, in a book which is call¬
ed the Field-book, and which serves as a register ol all
that is done or occurs in the course of the survey.
MENSURATION.
Of Plane
Figures.
To Measure a Field hj the Chain.
Let Ani&CDq represent a field to be measured.
Let it be resolved into the triangles AwB, ABD,
BCD, Ar/D. Let all the sides of the large triangles
ABD, BCD, and the perpendiculars of the small
ones AmB, A^D from their vertices m, q be measur¬
ed by the chain, and the areas calculated by the rules
delivered in this section, and their amount is the area
of the whole. But if, on account of the curvature
of its sides the field cannot be wholly resolved into tri¬
angles, then, either a straight line may be drawn over
the curve side, so that the parts cut oft from the field,
and those added to it, may be nearly equal ; or, with¬
out going beyond the bounds of the field, the curvi-
lineal spaces may be measured by the rule given in
Pi'ob. XV. of this section.
To Measure a Field with the Plane Table.
Fig- 3°. Let the plane table be fixed at F, about the middle
of the field ABCDE, and its distances FA, FB, FC,
&c. from the several corners of the field measured by
the chain. Let the index be directed from any point
assumed on the paper to the points A, B, C, D, &c.
successively, and the lines F a, F 6, F e, drawn in
these directions. Let the angles contained by these
lines be observed, and the lines themselves made pro¬
portional to the distances measured. Then their ex¬
tremities being joined, there will be formed a figure
abode similar to that of the field} and the area of
the field may be found by calculating the areas of the
several triangles of which it consists.
To Plan afield from a given Base Line.
Rule.
Of Soli
Multiply the jierimetcr of the end by the length or
height of the solid, and the product will be the surface
of all its sides } to which add also the area of the two
ends of the prism when required.
The truth of this rule will be evident, if it be con¬
sidered that the sides of a right prism are rectangles,
whose common length is the same as the length of the
solid, and their breadths taken altogether make up
the perimeter of the ends of the. prism. And as a cy¬
linder may be considered as the limit of all the prisms
which can be inscribed in or circumscribed about its
base so the surface of the cylinder will be the limit of
the surfaces of these prisms, and the expression for that
limit is evidently the product of the circular base by its
height. Or a cylinder may be considered as a prism
of an indefinitely great number of sides.
Fx. i. What is the surface of a cube, the length
its side AB being 20 feet ?
Here 4 X 20= 80 the perim. of end.
And 80 X 10— 1600 the four sides.
And 2 X 20 X 10— 800 the top and bottom.
The sum 2400 ~ the area or surface.
Fir. 2. What is the convex surface of a cylinder Fig. 53
whose length AB is 20 feet, and the circumference of
its base 3 feet ?
Dg- 31. ^wo stations A, B be taken within the field, but
not in the same straight line with any of its corners ;
and let their distance be measured. Then the plane
table being fixed at A, and tbe point a assumed on its
surface directly above A, let its index be directed to
B, and the straight line a b drawn along the side of it
to represent AB. Also, let the index be directed from
a to an object at the corner C, and an indefinite
straight line drawn in that direction, and so of every
other corner successively". Next, let the plane table be
set at B, so that b may be directly over B, and & o in
the same direction with BA, and let a straight line be
drawn from b in the direction BC. The intersection
of this line with the former, it is evident will determine
the point C, and the triangle a b c on. the paper will
be similar to ABC in the field. In this manner all the
other points are to be determined, and these being
joined there will be an exact representation of the field.
If the angles at both stations were observed, as the
distance between them is given, the area of the field
might be calculated from these data, but the operation
is too tedious for practice. It is usual therefore to
measure such lines in the figure that has been construct¬
ed as will render the calculation easy.
SECTION ih.
MENSURATION OF SOLIDS.
Problem I.
To find the surface of a right prism, or cylinder.
Here 3 X 20=60 feet, the answer.
Problem II.
To find the surface of a right pyramid or cone.
Rule.
Multiply the perimeter of the base by the slant
height or length of the side, and half the product will
evidently be the surface of the sides, or the sum of the
areas of all the triangles which form it. To which add
the area of the end or base, if required.
Mote. Here a cone is considered as a pyramid of an
indefinitely great number of sides.
Fx. 1. What is the upright surface of a triangular Fig-jl
pyramid, ABCD, the slant height, AE, being 20 feet,
and each side of the base 3 feet ?
Here ^^—-^=90 feet, the surface.
F.v. 2. Required the convex surface of a cone, the Fig-j
slant height AB being co feet, and the diameter of its
base 84- feet.
Here 8.5X3*1416= circum. of base.
a j 8-5X3.i4i6x $0 ,, .
And —  ——66q.5y, the answer.
Problem
4
MENSURATION.
' £ !i Problem III.
To find the surface of the frustum of a right py¬
ramid or cone, being the lower part, when the
top is cut off by a plane parallel to the base.
Kule.
Add together the perimeters of the two ends, and
multiply their sum by the slant height, and take half
the product for the answer.
The truth of this rule will be evident if it be con¬
sidered that the sides of the frustum are trapezoids,
whose parallel sides bound its top and base, and whose
common breadth is its slant height.
r 5, Example. How many square feet are in the surface
of a frustum AG of a square pyramid, whose slant
height RE is 10 feet j also each side of the greater
end AC is 3 feet 4 inches, and each side of the lesser
end EG 2 feet 2 inches ?
Here 3-5-X4=I3t the per. of gr. end.
And 2^X4= 8*- the per. of less end.
And their sura is 22 feet.
Therefore ^—=110 feet, is the answer.
Problem V.
To find the solid content of any pyramid
cone.
or
Rule.
Find the area of the base, and multiply that area by
the height, and one-third of the product will be the
content of the solid.
This rule is demonstrated in Theor. 16. Sect. VIII.
and Theor. 3. Sect. IX. Geometry.
Ex. 1. What is the content of a triangular pyramid Fig. 34.
ABCD, whose perpendicular height AF is 30 feet,
and each side of its base BCD is three feqt.
First, the area of the base, as found by Rule 3. of
Prob. 3. Sect. II. is
V(4-5 X 1.5 X 1.5 X i.5)=3.897ii.
Therefore 9711 cub. feet is the so¬
lid content.
Ex. 2. What is the solid content of a cone, the ra-Fig. 35.
dius BC of its base being nine inches, and its height
AC 15 feet?
Problem IV.
■a2
Here .7854 x ^7=1.76715 is the area of the base in
To find the solid content of any prism or cylin- S(luare feet*
^er* And I;7^7£5 NU—8.8337 cub. feet is the solid con-
Rule. a , 3
tent.
Find the area of the base or end of the figure, and
multiply it by the height or length, and the product
will be the area.
This rule follows immediately from Theor. 11. Sect.
VIII. and Theor. 2. Sect. IX. Geometry.
Ex. I. What is the solid content of a cube AG, the
length of whose sides is 24 inches ?
Here 24 X 24=576 sq. inches, the area of the end.
And 576x24=13824 cub. inches is the solidity.
Ex. 2. Required the content of a triangular prism,
whose length AD is 20 feet, and the sides of its trian¬
gular base ABC are 3, 4, and 5 feet.
First, the area of the triangular base is found by
Rule 3. of Prob. 3. Sect. II. to be
^(6 X 3 X 2 X i)=6 sq. feet.
Therefore 6x20=120 cub. feet the solidity.
Ex. 3. The Winchester bushel is a cylinder 1 Sc¬
inches in diameter, and eight inches deep. How many
cubic inches does it contain ?
By Prop. 1 o. of Sect. II. the area of its base is
.7854X i8.51=268.8o3 sq. inches j
Therefore 268.803x8=211:0.424 is the solid content.
VOL. XIII. Part II. f
Problem VI.
To find the solidity of the frustum of a cone or
pyramid.
Rule.
Add into one sum the areas of the two ends, and the
mean proportional between them, that is, the square
root of their product, and one-third of that sum will be
a mean area, which being multiplied by the perpen¬
dicular height or length of the frustum wrill give the
content.
Demonstration. Let PABCD be any pyramid, and Fig.
AG a frustum of it contained between ABCD its base,
and EFGH, a plane parallel to the base. Put a for
the side of a square equal to AC the base of the frus¬
tum ; b for the side of a square equal to EG its top j
h for LM the height of the frustum, and c for PL the
height of the part of the pyramid above the frustum.
Then a* is the area of the base of the frustum j b% is
the area of its top j \ a? (A-fc) is the solid content of
the whole pyramid j (Geom. Sect. \ III. Iheor. 16.)
\ b2 c is the content of its upper part; and therefore
C-^o2(^+c)—
is the solid content of the frustum itself. Now the base
and top of the frustum being similar figures, (Sect. VIII.
3 U Theor.
522
Of Solids. Theor. 13.) their areas are to one another as the
i —v-—' squares of AB and EF their homologous sides, (beet.
IV Theor. 27.). But AB : EF :: BP : PF (Sect.
VII. Theor. 7. and Sect. IV. Theor. 20.) :: PM :
PL, (Sect. VII. Theor. 14.) j therefore the area of the
base of the frustum is to the area of its top as PM2 :
PL*, that is, a* : 6* :: (A+c)* : c\ and consequently
b h
a : b h-\-c : c ; hence a c—b c, and c~- 7,
mensuration.
Rule.
Of-Soli*
Multiply the circumference of the sphere hy the
height of the part required, and the product will be
the curve surface, whether it be a segment, a zone, or
the whole sphere.
Note. The height of the whole sphere is its diame¬
ter.
and h 4- c=-^A-. Let these values of c and A-f-c be
a—b
now substituted in the preceding expression for the con¬
tent of the frustum, and it will become by proper re¬
duction,
Let the numerator of the fractional part of this formula
be actually divided by its denominator, and we shall
obtain for the area of the frustum this more simple ex¬
pression,
•y A (a*-J-o b-\-bt'),
which formula, when expressed in words, is the rule.
And as a cone may be considered as the limit of all
the pyramids that can be inscribed in it, when the
number of sides is conceived indefinitely increased, it
is evident that the rule will apply alike to the cone and
pyramid.
Ex. I. Required the solidity of the frustum of a
hexagonal pyramid, the side of whose greater end is tour
feet, and that of its lesser end is three feet, and its height
nine feet.
First, by Prob. 7. Sect. II. the area of the base of
the frustum is found to be 41.569, and the area of its
lesser end 23.383 square feet. And the mean propor¬
tional between these is
V (41 *569 X 23.383)=31.177.
Hence the mean area is
t (23-383 + 41-569+3i-i77)=32-043-
4-nd the solid content of the frustum is
32.043X9=288.387 cubic feet.
Ex. 2. What is the solidity of the frustum of a cone,
the diameter of the greater end being five feet, that of
the lesser end three feet, and the altitude nine feet ?
Here the area of the greater end is (by Prob. 10.
Sect. II.) 5* X *7854, and the area of the lesser end is
3* X-7854, and the mean proportional between them
is (5* X 32 X .7854*)=5 X 3 X .7854; therefore the
mean area is
^y^X(5s+3s+5X3)=i2-8282.
And the content of the frustum
12.8282X 9=1154538 cub. feet.
Problem VII.
The truth of this rule has been already shown in
the article Fluxions, § 165. It may however be
deduced from principles more elementary, by reasoning
as follows. Let PCQbe a semicircle, and ABCLE se-Fig. r
veral successive sides of a regular polygon inscribed in it.
Conceive the semicircle to revolve about the diameter
PQ as an axis, then the arch ABCI3E will generate a
portion of the surface of a sphere, and the chords AB,
BC, CD, &c. rvill generate the surfaces of frustums of
cones ; and it is easy to see that the number of chords
may be so great that the surface which they generate
shall differ from the surface generated by the arch ACE
by a quantity which is less than any assigned quantity.
Bisect AB in L, and draw AF, LM, BG, CH, &c.
perpendicular to PQ. For the sake of brevity, let
circ. AF denote the circumference of a circle whose
radius is AF. Then because AF, BGj LM, are to
each other respectively as circ. AF, circ^ BG, circ.
LM (Geom. Sect. VI. Prop. 4.), and because ^ (AF
4-BG)=LM, therefore ^ (circ. AF-j-circ. BG)—
circ. LM. Now the area of the surface generated by
the chord AB is A (circ. AF -j- circ. BG) X AB,
Prob. 3.) therefore the same area is also equal to
(circ. LM) x AB. Draw AO parallel to FG, and
draw LN to the centre of the circle. Then the tri¬
angles AOB, LMN are manifestly similar 5 therefore
AB : AO :: NL : LM :: circ. NL : circ. LMj and
hence AO xcirc. NLrzAB Xci/x. LM. But this last
quantity has been proved equal to the surface genera¬
ted by AB, therefore the same surface is equal to AOx
circ. NL, or to FG X circ. NL, that is, to the rectan¬
gle contained by FG and the circumference of a circle
inscribed in the polygon. In the same way it may be
shown that the surfaces generated by BC, CD, DE, are
respectively equal to GH x circ. LN, HI X circ. LN,
IKX circ. LN. Therefore the whole surface generat¬
ed by the chords AB, BC, CD, DE, &c. is equal to
(FG+GH+HI+IK) x circ. LN = FKx circ. LN.
Conceive now the number of chords between A and E
to be indefinitely increased then, observing that the
limit of the surface generated by the chords is the sur¬
face generated by the arch ABCDE, and that the li¬
mit of NL is NP, the radius of the generating circle,
it follows that the spherical surface or zone generat¬
ed by the arch ACE is equal to the product of the
zone.
Ex. 1. What is the superficies of a globe whose diar
meter is 17 inches ?
First 17 X3-I4i6:=53.4072 inchesrrthe circum.
Then53.4072 X i7=907.9224Sq. inches=;6.305 square
feet, the answer.
To find the surface of a sphere, or of any segment
©r zone of it.
Ex. 2. What is the convex surface of a segment 8
inches in height cut oft" from the same globe ?
Here
Of lids. Here 53.4072 X 8=427.2576 sq. 11101168=2.967
^ feet, the answer.
Problem VIII.
To find the solidity of a sphere.
Rule I.
Multiply the area of a great circle of the sphere by its
diameter, and take j of the product for the content.
Rule II.
Multiply the cube of the diameter by the decimal
.5236 for the content.
The first of these rules is demonstrated in Geometry,
Sect. IX. Theor. 6. And the second is deduced from
the first, thus : put d for the diameter of the sphere, then
i/1 X-7854 is the area of a great circle of the sphere,
and by the first rule fr/x X*7854=d3 X-5236 is its
content.
Example. What is the content of a sphere whose
diameter is 6 feet ?
Answer 63X•5236=113.0976 cub. feet.
Problem IX.
To find the solid content of a spherical segment.
523
the radius DG, is equal to the sum of the circles do- Of Solids,
scribed with the radii DH, DR ; that is, the section of —-y—
the cylinder at any altitude, is equal to the correspond¬
ing sections of the sphere and cone taken together.
Consequently, by the foregoing axiom, the cylinder is
equal to the hemisphere and cone taken together, and
also the segment of the cylinder between the planes
AF, DG is equal to the sum of the segments of the
hemisphere and cone contained between the same planer.
Put 2 CE, or 2 AF, the diameter of the circle, =f/, and
AD, the height of the spherical segment, —h. Then
AC=4</and 2CA—2 AD=2CD=r/—2//. Let n de¬
note the number .7854. Then the area of the base com¬
mon to the conic frustum AH, and cylinder AG, is
11 d*, (Sect. II. Prob. 10.), and the ai’ea of the top of
the frustum is n (d—2 A)*, and the mean proportional
between these areas is n (d--2/i)d. Therefore the so¬
lid content of the frustum is (by Prob. 6. of this sect.)
di-^-?i (e/—2/f)*-j-?x d (d—2/1)^ X
=/z d* h—2 11 d /P+t n /z3.
Now the solid content of the cylinder is nddh : (Prob. 1.).
Therefore the solid content of the spherical segment,
(which is equal to the difference between the cylinder
AG and conic frustum AH) is equal to
n d1 h—(m d1 h—2 n d ///z3)j
that is, to 2 n d Id—4 n or f°
MENSURATION.
s<i-
Rule.
From 3 times the diameter of the sphere take double
the height of the segment, then multiply the remainder
by the square of the height, and the product by the de¬
cimal .5236 for the content.
This rule hao been investigated in Fluxions, § 163.
But it may be proved in a more elementary manner by
means of the following axiom. If Hvo solids be con¬
tained between two parallel planes ; and if the sections
of these solids by a third plane parallel to the other t wo,
at any altitude, be always equal to one another, then the
solids themselves are equal. Or more generally thus. If
two solids between two parallel planes be such, that any
sections of them by a third plane parallel to the other
two have always to each other the same given ratio, then
the solids themselves are to one another in that ratio.
W e have given this proposition in the form of an axiom
for the sake of brevity, but its truth may be strictly de¬
monstrated, as has been done when treating of pyramids
and the sphere, in Geometry, Sect. 8. and 9.
Let us now suppose ABE^to be a quadrant 5 C the
centre of the circle 5 AFEC a square described about
the quadrant; and CF the diagonal of the square. Sup¬
pose the figures to revolve about AC as an axis, then
the quadrant will generate a hemisphere, the triangle
ACF will generate a cone, and the square AE a cy¬
linder. Let these three solids be cut by a plane per¬
pendicular to the axis, and meeting the plane of the
square, in the line DHBG ; and join CB. Then be¬
cause CDB is a right-angled triangle, a circle described
with CB as a radius is equal to two circles described
with CD and DB as radii (Geometry, Sect. VI.
Prop. 4. Cor. 2.). But CB=DG, and since CA=AF,
therefore CD=DH j therefore the circle described with
2 n
(3d—2 h) hl.
w hich expression, if it be considered that or ———-
is equal to .5236, is evidently the same as that given by
the rule.
Example. In a sphere whose diameter is 21, what is
the solidity of a segment whose height is 4.5 inches ?
First 3 X 2i—2 X 4*5—54*
Then 54X4-5 X4-5 X-5236=572.5566 inches, the so¬
lidity required.
Problem X.
To find the solid content of a paraboloid, or solid,
produced by the rotation of a parabola about its
axis.
Rule.
Multiply the area of the base by the height, and take
half the product for the content.
To demonstrate this rule, let AGC and BHD be two Fig. 39.
equal semi-parabolas lying in contrary directions, and
having their vertices at the extremity of the line AB.
Let AD, BC be ordinates to the curves. Complete
the rectangle ABCD, and conceive it to revolve about
AB as an axis ; then the rectangle will generate a cy¬
linder, the radius of whose base will be AD, and the
two semi-parabolas will generate two equal paraboloids
having the same base and altitude as the cylinder. Let ^
a plane be drawn perpendicular to the axis, and let
FHGE be the common section of this plane and the,
3 U 2 generating!
524
Of Solids, generating figure,
'—■"■v——' axis. Then since
MENSURATION.
Let P denote the parameter of the
Problem XI.
Of Soli,
EG^PxAE,
and EH*=PxEB,
EG1+EH*=P X AB=CB1.
Hence it appears, as in the demonstration of the pre¬
ceding rule, that of the solids described by ADCB,
ACB, ADB between the same parallel planes, the sec¬
tion of the cylinder at any altitude is equal to the cor¬
responding sections of the paraboloids taken together.
Consequently (by the Axiom) the cylinder is equal to
both the paraboloids taken together; hence each is halt
a cylinder of the same base and altitude agreeing with
the rule.
The same thing is also proved in Fluxions, § 163.
Example. If the diameter of the base of a para¬
boloid be 10 and its height 12 feet j what is its con¬
tent ?
Here 10 X ■7854=:7.854 the area of the base.
And 4X7*854X12=147.124 cub. feet is the solidity.
Problem X.
To find the solid content of a frustum of a para¬
boloid.
Rule.
Add together the areas of the circular ends, then
multiply that sum by the height of the frustum, and
take half the product for its solid content.
To prove this rule put A and a for the greater and
lesser ends of the frustum, and h for its height; also let
c denote the height of the portion cut off from the com-
plete paraboloid, so as to form the frustum. Then, by
the last problem, the content of the complete parabo¬
loid is 4 A and the content of the part cut off
is 4 « c, therefore the content of the frustum is
41A(Zt -j-c)—a c) = 4 ^ A /i -f-c(A—a)
But from the nature of the parabola, c : /i+c :: o : A;
hence A c ~ a /i-f-a c and c~ ■ a ^ .
A—a
Let this value of c be substituted instead of it in the
above expression for the content of the frustum, and it
becomes
4('A^-fa A)=4A(A-Fc),
and hence is derived the rule.
Example. Required the solidity of the frustum of a
paraboloid, the diameter of the greater end being 58,
and that of the lesser end 30, and the height 18.
First, (by Prob. 10. Sect. II.) we find the areas of
the ends to be 58*X*7854, and 30*X*7854; there-
lore their sum is (58’-P3°a) X *7854=4264 X .7854.
And the content of the figure is 4 X 4264X*7854X
x8=30i40.5i,C4;, the answer.
To find the solid content of a parabolic spindle F-
or solid generated by the rotation of AEB an S 4C
arc of a parabola, about AB an ordinate to the
axis.
Rule.
Multiply the area of the middle section by the length,
and take X8X of the product for the content of the
solid.
For the investigation of this rule we must refer the
reader to Fluxions, § i63. Ex. 2.
Example. The length of the parabolic spindle
AEB e A is 60, and the middle diameter E e 34;
what is the solidity ?
Here 34* X *7854 is area of the middle section.
Therefore 34* x .7854 X 60 Xtt= 29053.5168 is the
solidity required.
Problem XII.
To find the solid content of the frustum of a pa¬
rabolic spindle, one of the ends of the frustum
passing through the centre of the spindle.
Rule.
Add into one sum eight times the square of the dia¬
meter of the greater end, and three times the square of
the lesser end, and four times the product of the diame¬
ters ; multiply the sum by the length, and the product
multiplied by .05236, or XV of .7854, will be the con¬
tent.
For, referring the reader to Fluxions, § 163. Ex. 2.
as before, and substituting h for AC=4 ^ but, in other
respects, retaining the figure and notation, we have this
general expression for the segment AP
w x3 f 4 h*
a* \~f
—7i x
which, when x=zh gives -- ‘ for the value of the se-
. . 1S a
mi-spindle. From this quantity let the former be sub¬
tracted, and there will remain
8?r/fs x3(a h* x*\
1 sa*~~nr\3 *+7)
for the content of the frustum. In this expression let £
be put instead of h—x or CD, and, denoting CE the
radius of the greater end of the spindle by d, let ~
be substituted instead of its value a. Then we shall
have the content of the frustum otherwise expressed
by
2 a* 2s4 7
which value, by putting h/^—~ in its two last terms
instead
MENSURATION.
p )Hds. instead of Z, is changed to
8 dy+3, y1'
TTZX  jj »
and hence is dexdved the preceding rule.
Example. Suppose the diameter of the greater end
to be 8, and the diameter of the lesser end 6, and the
length 10, required the content ?
First 8x8* + 3X6z+4x8x6rr8i2.
Then, 8i2X io X •05236=425.1632, the pontent.
Problem XIII.
To find the solid content of a spheroid, or solid
generated by the rotation of an ellipse about
either axis.
Hole.
Multiply continually together the fixed axis, and the
square of the revolving axis, and the number .5236 or ^
of 3.1416, and the last product will be the solidity.
] 41. For, let the semiellipse ADB, and semicircle AEB,
revolve about the same fixed axis AB, and thus gene¬
rate a spheroid and sphere. Let CD thfe revolving se¬
miaxis of the ellipse meet the circle in E, and draw
QP any ordinate to the fixed axis meeting the circle in
R. Then, from the nature of the ellipse PQ* : PR*::
CD*: CE* or C A* (Conic Sections, Part II. Prop.
11. Cor. 3.). Hence it follows, (Geometry, Sect. VI.
Prop. 4.), that every section of the spheroid is to the
corresponding section of the sphere in the same given
ratio, namely, that of the square of the revolving axis
to the square of the fixed axis therefore (Axiom in
the dem. of Prob. 9.) the whole spheroid is to the
whole sphere in the same ratio. That is, (because the
content of the sphere is AB3 x *5236) AB* : (2CD)*::
ABsX-5236 : (the cont. of spheroid). Hence the
content of the spheroid is AB X (2CD)* X *5236.
Ex. 1. What is the solid content of an oblong sphe¬
roid, or solid generated by the rotation of an ellipse
about its greater axis, the axes being 50, and 30 ?'
Demonstration. Let ABE be a quadrant of an el- Of Solids,
lipse, C its centre, CAFE its circumscribed rectangle,-v—,
and Cl its diagonal. Draw any straight line DG pa-^S- 42*
rallel to GE, meeting AC, CF, ABE and EF in D,
H, B, and G. Then by Conic Sections, Part II.
Prop. 11.
CE* or AF*: DB*:: CA*: CA*—CD*,
and by sim. tr. AF*: DH* :: CA* : CD*.
Therefore (Geometry, Sect. HI. Theor. 8.),
AF2: DB*+DH*:: CA*: CA* 5
Hence DB*-f-DH*=AF*=DG\
Conceive now the figure to revolve about AC as an
axis, so that the elliptic quadrant may generate the
half of a spheroid, the rectangle AE a cylinder, and
the triangle ACF a cone ; then it is evident (as was
shown in the case of the sphere in Prob. 9.) that every
section of the first of these solids by a plane perpendicu¬
lar to the axis is equal to the difference of the sections
of the other two, and consequently that the frustum
of the spheroid between CE and DG is equal to the
difference between the cylinder having DG or CE for
the radius of its base, and CD for its altitude, and the
cone having DH for the radius of its base, and DC
for its altitude.
Put n for the number 3.1416, then (Prob. 4.) the
content of the cylinder is 4 ?? X DG* X CD, and
(Prob. 5.) the content of the cone is 4 » X DH* X CD,
and therefore the content of the frustum of the sphe¬
roid is
472 X CD (DG*—4 DH*).
But it was shewn that DH*=DG*—DB*; there¬
fore the content of the frustum is also equal to
4 72 x CD (2CE*+DB*),
and hence is derived the rule.
Ex. Suppose the greater end of the frustum to be
15, the less end 9, and the length 10 inches, required
the content ?
The area of the greater end is 15* X-7854, and the
area of the less 9* X *7854, therefore the content is
.7854 (9*-{-2X 15*) X^^i390.158 cubic inches.
Here 50x30* X *5236=23562, the content.
Ex. What is the solid content of an oblate spheroid,
or solid generated by the rotation of an ellipse about
its lesser axis, the two axes being as before ?
Here 30 X502X *5236=39270 the answer.
Problem XIV.
To find the solid content of the frustum of a sphe¬
roid, its ends being perpendicular to the fixed
axis, and one of them passing through the centre.
Rule.
To the area of the less end add twice that of the
greater, multiply the sum by the altitude of the fru¬
stum, and 4 of the product will be the content.
Note. This rule will also apply to the sphere.
Problem XV.
To find the solid content of a hyperboloid, or solid
generated by the rotation of a hyperbola about
its transverse axis.
Rule.
As the sum of the transverse axis and the height of
the solid is to the sum of the said transverse axis and 4
of the height, so is halt the cylinder of the same base
and altitude to the solidity of the hyperboloid.
Demonstration. Let BAZ> be a hyperbola, Ac its Fig. 43.
transverse axis, C its centre, CF, C/" its asymptotes,
FA/a tangent at its vertex. Draw FE parallel to
CA, and draw any straight line parallel to F/, meeting
the asymptotes in H and h, the curve in B and b, the
axis in D, and the line FE in G. Then, because AF*
=BHx^B (Conic Sections, Part III. Prop. 11.)
526 M.E N;S U
Of Solids, ami HBx h B=DII2—BB* (Geometry, Sect. IV.
* "'v~~ -1 Theor. 12.), therefore AF*i=:DHz—DB2, and DB*
—I-[D*—DG*. Hence it appears, that if the figure
be conceived to revolve about CA as an axis, so that
the hyperbolic arc AB may generate v, hyperboloid,
the triangle DCH a cone, and the rectangle DAFG
a cylinder, any section of the first of these solids by a
plane H h, perpendicular to the axis, will be equal to
the difference of the sections of the other two by the
same plane. Therefore the hyperboloid BA b is equal
to the difference between the conic frustum FH hf and
the cylinder FG gf Let A a the transverse axis be
denoted by p, F f— its conjugate axis by q, AD the
height of the solid by //, B b its base by b. Then,
because by similar triangles, &c.
CA : CD :: F/: H /* :: F/* : F/x H //,
therefore F/x H x F/“=^±^)-l‘=?>+
2 hq*
Now Yj^—q',and HA* (=B A* 4- Ff'1')—bx-f-there¬
fore putting n for .7854, we have (by Prob. 6.) the
content of the conic frustum FH Ay equal to.
f('/’+4-+?-+?-+^)=V'(3/+4-+^);
from this subtract n h q*, the expression for the content
of the-cylinder FG gj] and there will remain
n h
(4>+^)
3 v ' P
for the content of the hyperboloid. But from the na¬
ture of the hyperbola
Ac* : F/* :: AD x D « : BD*,
that is,/?* : q* :: (/?+A) A : ^b* 5
2A4* p b2
therefore■
p 2 (p+h) ’
the hyperboloid Is also equal to
n h( , pb* \ n A A*
2(/?-J-A)/
and hence the content, of
3\ * 2(/?,+AV 2 p+h ’
Now if it be considered that the quantity n A A* is the
expression for the content of a cylinder whose base is A
and height A, it will appear evident, that this last for¬
mula is the same as would result from the foregoing
rule.
Ex.- Suppose; the height of the hyperboloid to be IC,
the radius of its base 12, and its transverse axis 30.
What is its content ?
1. Because a cylinder of the same base and altitude
is 242X*7854X 10, therefore, we have the proportion,
.no.. 24*X-7854X 10_
3 .2
R A T I O N.
the excise, and it has received its name from a gauge Qf !
or rod used by the practitioners of the art. Gauging
From the way in .which casks are constructed, they ''“’"v—’
are evidently solids of no determinate geometrical fi¬
gure. It is, however, usual to consider them ashaving
one or other of the four following forms :
1. The middle frustum of a spheroid.
2. The middle frustum of a parabolic spindle.
3. The two equal frustums of a paraboloid.
4. The two equal frustums of a cone.
We have already given rules by which the content of
each of these solids may be found in cubic feet, inches,
&c. But as it is usual to express the contents of casks
in gallons, we shall give the rules again in a form
suited to that mode of estimating capacity. Observing
that in each case the lineal dimensions of the cask are
supposed to be taken in inches.
Problem I.
To find the content of a cask of the first, or sphe-
rroidal variety.
Rule.
To the square of the head diameter add double the
square of the bung diameter, and multiply the sum by
the length of the cask. Then let the product be mul¬
tiplied by .ooopA-, or divided by 1077 for ale gallons,
or multiplied by .0011-|- or divided by 882 for wine
gallons.
The truth of this rule may be proved thus. Put B.p;g, ^
for FG, the bung diameter, H for AH the head dia¬
meter, and L for AD, the length of the cask, then
(by Prob. 14.) the content of the cask is (2 B*-|-H*) L
. .7854 .....
X —^, which being divided by 282 (the cubic inches
in an ale gallon) gives (2 B2 + H*) L X .000928371,
or (2 B*-f IP) x X Dj for the content in ale
„ . I°77-.I57
gallons. And being divided by 231, (the cubic inches
in a wine gallon) gives (2B*-j-H*) x •opii3333 or
(2 B* 4- PP) x Q q X L. for the content in wine
40
242 X -7854 X 10 X 110
  =2°J3-456> ‘lie content
of the solid as required.
Of GAUGING.
Gauging treats of the measuring of casks, and other
things falling under the cognizance of the officers of
gallons.
882.355
Ex. Suppose the bung and head diameters to be 32
and 24, and the length 40 inches. Required the con¬
tent ?
Here (2 X 32*4-24*) X 40 X •00094=97.44 ale gallons,
is the content required.
And (2X3224-24*) X40X •00114= ii8.95 wine gal¬
lons is the same content.
Problem II.
To find the content of a cask of the second, or pa¬
rabolic spindle form.
Rule.
To the square of the head diameter add double that
of the bung diameter, and from the sura take f, or A
of
MENSURATION.
)f of the square of the difference of the said diameters.
s;ing. Then multiply the remainder by the length, and the
'product multiplied, or divided by the same numbers as
in the rule to last problem, will give the content.
For by Problem 12, the content in inches is
8B*+4BH+3H.x^3j4L;
and this formula may be otherwise expressed thus,
x '- i- xL,
and hence is derived the rule, the multipliers or divisors
being evidently the same as in last problem.
For by Problem 6. the content in inches is y (B*
-f-BH+FP) x .7854 L, which expression is equivalent
to '
{3(B+Hr+(B-Hr}
' divided hy 282 gives .OCO23209
527
Of
Gauging.
12
the multiplier for ale gallons, and divided
by 231 gives .00028333
wine gallons.
3529-42
the multiplier for
Ex. The dimensions of a cask being the same as in
last problem ; required the contents P
Answer, (2 X 32* + 24* — f X 82) X 40 X .0009^
=96.49 the content in ale gallons.
And 10393.6X ooiij—:ii7.79 the content in wine
gallons.
Problem III.
To find the content of a cask of the third or para¬
boloidal variety.
Rule.
To the square of the bung diameter add the square
of the head diameter, and multiply the sum by the
length \ then, if the product he multiplied by .0014,
or divided by 7x8, The result will be the content in ale
gallons j or if it be multiplied by .0017, or divided by
588, the result will be the content in wine gallons.
For by Problem 10. the content in inches is ^ (Ba
.f IP) X *78 <54 L j and this expression being divided by
282 gives (B2-f-H*) x *00139255 L or (B2-!-!!1)
X —q- X R for the content in ale gallons 5 and
718.105
divided by 231 gives (Bz-}-H*) X .0017 L or (B*
XH2) X “uf;1  for the content in wine gallons.
588.233
Ex. Suppose the dimensions of a cask, as before 3 re¬
quired the content ?
Answer, (32z-f-242) X 40 X •0014=89.1 the content
in ale gallons.
And 64000 X *0017=108.8 the content in wine gal¬
lons.
Problem IV.
To find the content of a cask of the fourth or
conical variety.
Rule.
To three times the square of the sum of the diameters
add the square of the difference of the diameters 3 mul¬
tiply the sum by the length 3 and multiply the result
by .00023f, or divide it by 4308, for the content in ale
gallons; or multiply the result by .oooSj, or divide it
by 3529, for the content in wine gallons.
Ex. Supposing the dimensions of a cask as before,.
What is its contents ?
Answer, (3 X 56*-|-8l) X 40 X .00023^=87.93 the con¬
tent in ale gallons.
And 378880 X-000281=107.35, is the content in
wine gallons.
As these four forms of casks are merely hypotheti¬
cal, it may reasonably he expected that some degree of
uncertainty will attend the application of the rules to
actual measurement. The following rule, however,
given by Dr Hutton in his excellent treatise on men¬
suration will apply equally to any cask whatever. And
as the ingenious author observes, that its truth has been
proved by several casks which have been actually filled
with a true gallon-measure after their contents were
computed by it, we presume that it is more to be de-»
pended upon in practice than the others.
Rule.
Add into one sum 39 times the square of the bung
diameter, 25 times the square of the head diameter, and
26 times the product of the diameters 3 multiply the sum
by the length, and the product by .00034 3 then the
last product divided by 9 will give the wine gallons^
and divided by 11 will give the ale gallons.
In investigating this rule the ingenious author as¬
sumed as a hypothesis, that one-third of a cask at each
end is nearly the frustum of a cone, and that the mid¬
dle part may be taken as the middle frustum of a para¬
bolic spindle. This being supposed, let AB and CD fig. 44,
be the twro right-lined parts, and BC the parabolic
part 5 produce AB and DC to meet in E, and draw
lines as in the figure. Let L, B, and H denote the
same as before. Then, since AB has the same direc¬
tion as EB at B, ABE will be a tangent to a parabo¬
la BE, and therefore FI=-§ER But BI=yAK, and
hence, by sim. triangles EI=|EK 3 consequently FI
= yEI=iEK=yFK=xV(B—H) 3 so that the com¬
mon diameter BL=FG—2I I=B—y(B—H)=y(4.B
+H), which call c. Now by the rules of parabolic spin¬
dles and conic frustums we obtain (putting ti for .7854)
8B,-f-4BC + 3 C*w En 328B’-f-44 BH-f-3 H2
15 X 3 ■“ 25x45
. C2-fCH-fH2
X L w for the parabolic or middle part; and 
lh« _i6oB^X28oBH+3i_oH» l n ^
$ ~ 25X45
ends*..
MENSUBATION.
ends, and the sura of these two gives after proper re- .00034
duction (39B2-|-26JBH-f-25H*) x
9°
nearly, for
•7854
the content in inches. And the quantity — or
■'90 90
being divided by 231 gives —-0°84_ the multiplier for
wine galloos ; and since 231 is to 282 as 9 to 11 nearly,
^ ^ will be the multiplier for ale gallons as in the
rule.
E.r. Suppose a cask to have the same dimensions as
in the four former rules ; required the content ?
Here (39 X 32"+26 X 32 X 24 +25 X 24*) X40X
.00034=11010.5 ; which being divided by 9 and by
11 we obtain 112.3 wine gallons or 91.9 ale gallons
for the content required.
Of
Gaugir,
MEN
Menstrual MENSTRUAL, or Menstruous, in Physiology, is
Mentz applied to the blood which flows from women in their
t. ordinary monthly purgations. See Midwifery and
Medicine Index.
MENSTRUUM, in Chemistry, any body which in
a fluid or subtilized state is capable of interposing its
small parts betwixt the small parts of other bodies, so
as to divide them subtly, and form a new uniform
compound of the two.
MENTHA, Mint, a genus of plants belonging to
the didynamia class, and in the natural method rank¬
ing under the 42d order, Verticillatce. See Botany
Index.
MENTOR, in fabulous history, a faithful friend of
Ulysses j a son of Hercules *, a king of Sidonia, who
revolted against Artaxerxes Q jiius, and afterwards was
restored to favour by his treachery to his allies, &c.
Diod. 16. An excellent artist in polishing cups and
engraving flowers on them. P/in. 33. c. 11.—Mart.
9. ep. 60. v. 16.
MENTZ, an archbishopric, and formerly an elec¬
torate in Germany, the title of which was extinguish¬
ed in 1802. It was situated on the banks of the river
Maine, between Triers on the west, the Palatinate on
the south, Franconia on the east, and the Wetterau
on the north. It was about 60 miles in length from
north-east to south-west, and about 50 in breadth.
A considerable part of the elector’s revenue arose from
the toll on the Rhine and Maine, and from the tax on
the excellent wines produced in this country. The chief
towns of any trade are, 1. Mentz; (see the next arti¬
cle). In its neighbourhood isHockheim, so celebrated
for good wines, that the best Rhenish is from thence
called old Hock. It is a pretty village, containing
about 300 families ; and belonged to the chapter of
Mentz, the dean of which enjoyed the revenue of it.
He and the Augustins of Mentz and Francfort had the
exclusive enjoyment of the best Hockheimer wine, of
which, in good years, a piece, consisting of 100 mea¬
sures, sells for from 900 to 1000 guilders from the
press. “ This (says the Baron Riesbeck) is cer¬
tainly one of the dearest wines in the world. Having
a desire to taste it on the spot, we were obliged to pay
a rixdollar *, it was, however, of the best vintage in
this century, viz. that of 1766. Nor should we have
bad it, but for an advocate of Mentz, to whom the
hostess meant to shew favour. This was the first Ger-
*nan wine I had met with which was entirely without
I
MEN
any sour taste : it was quite a perfume to the tongue ; Mcntj,
whereas the other wine of Hockheim, let it be as good u—y—
as it may, is not quite clear of vinegar j though for
this also, if it has any age, you are forced to pay a
guilder and a half.” 2. Bingen is a pleasant town,
which stands in the district called Rhinegau. This town,
which, together with the toll on the Rhine, was worth
about 30,000 guilders, belonged to the chapter of
Mentz, is extremely beautiful, and contains about
4500 inhabitants. A great part of the corn which
is carried into the Rhinegau from the neighbouring
Palatinate, comes through this place, which, on the
other hand, supplies the Palatinate with drugs, and va¬
rious foreign commodities. This traffic alone would
make the place very lively} but, besides this, it has
very fruitful vineyards. The hill, at the foot of which
it lies, and one side of which is made by the gullet
through which the Nahe runs into the Rhine, forms
another steep rock behind this gullet parallel to the
Rhine and the golden Rudesheimer mountain ; it there¬
fore enjoys the same sun as this does, which makes the
Budesheimer wine that grows on it little inferior to the
true Rudesheimer. See Rudesheim. The rising
grounds about it produce wines that are esteemed pre¬
ferable to those of Baccharac, so much in vogue here¬
tofore.—3. Elfeld, five miles west from Mentz, is a
strong fortified town, on the north side of the Rhine,
and the chief of the Rhinegau.—Here is Rudesheim, a
place noted for the growth of the best wines in these
parts. 4. Weisbaden lies between six and seven leagues
from Francfort, and about five or six miles north of
Mentz j it is the metropolis of a country belonging to
the branch of Nassau-Saarbrak, and is famous for its
mineral waters.
According to Riesbeck, the see of Mentz was indebt¬
ed for its increase of riches to St Boniface, who may be
called, with great justice, the apostle of the Germans.
It was this man, an Englishman by birth, who in the
time of Charlemagne baptized Witikind and the other
brave Saxons who had so long resisted baptism with their
sivords, and spread the empire of the vicar of Jesus
Christ as far as the northern and eastern seas. He it
was who introduced the Roman liturgy into Germany,
and made the savage inhabitants abstain from eating
horse’s flesh. He raised the papal power to a higher
pitch than it had been raised in any other country in
Christendom •, and, in recompense of his services, the
pope made all the new founded bishoprics in the north
of Germany subject to the see of Mentz, which Boni-
-x
'■A
S^. /2.
MENSURATION
cv ,
C C C XXXiJI.
c
rX.
Z-7
^Aas.g
• (H3C//r A-/,l.. /'KtT^ xSouZ/iterfcrU .
Plate
M E N [
face had chosen for his residence. The provinces, the
-J most considerable in the whole papal dominions, all
Suabia, Franconia, Bohemia, and almost all Saxony,
with a part of Switzerland, Bavaria, and the Upper
Khinc, belonged to this diocese. Though the reforma¬
tion, and political changes lessened it one-third, it still
contained, before the French revolution, the archbi¬
shopric of Sprengel, and eleven bishoprics, which are
the most considerable of Germany, as Wurtsburg, Ba-
derborn, &c. When the building of the papal mo¬
narchy was completed by Gregory VII. the archbi¬
shops of Mentz became powerful enough to be at the
head of the empire. In the 13th and 14th centuries,
they were so eminent as to be able to make emperors
without any foreign assistance ; and it was to one of
them that the house of Hapsburg was indebted for its
first elevation. After the boundaries of the two powers
were more accurately ascertained, and the temporal got
so much the better of the spiritual, the power and in¬
fluence of the archbishops of this place were of course
much reduced j still, however, they possessed very im¬
portant prerogatives, which they might have exerted
with much more efficacy than they did, were it not
that various circumstances rendered them too depen¬
dent on the emperors. They were still the speakers in the
electoral college, had the appointment of the diets un¬
der the emperors, and might order a re-examination of
the proceedings of the imperial courts. These high
privileges were, however, too much subject to the con-
troul of the house of Austria. Though the archbishop
of Mentz did not absolutely possess the largest, yet he
certainly had the richest and most peopled domain of
any ecclesiastical potentate in Germany. The country,
it is true, does not contain more than 125 German miles
square, whereas the archbishopric of Saltzburg contains
240 5 but then Saltzburg has only 250,000 inhabitants,
whereas Mentz has 320,000. The natural riches of
the territory of Mentz, and its advantageous situation,
make a subject of Mentz much richer than one of Saltz¬
burg, the greatest part of which is only inhabited by
herdsmen. In the territory of Mentz there were 40
cities; in that of Saltzburg only seven. The tax on
vessels which went down the Rhine, of itself produced
60,000 guilders or 6000I. a-year, which is nearly as
much as all the mines of Saltzburg put together, ex¬
cepting only the salt mine at Halle. The tax on wine,
here and in the country round, produced the court
above 100,000 guilders or io,oool. a-year, in which
sum we do not reckon the customs of the countries
which lie at a greater distance. Upon the whole, the
income of the archbishop might amount to 1,700,000
guilders, or 170,000!.
At the settling of the indemnities in 1802, all that
part of the diocese which lay on the right of the Maine
was given to the prince of Nassau-Usingen, except the
bailiwick of Aschaffenburg. It was then determin¬
ed that the electoral title should, from that time, be
elector of Aschafienburg, and count of Wetzlar ; that
he should still continue archchancellor of the empire,
and hold his office at Ratisbon, with some abbeys and
other indemnities, so as to yield an annual revenue of a
million of florins. His jurisdiction as metropolitan of
the German church to extend over all Germany, ex-
Vol. XIII. Part II.
529 ] MEN
cept the Prussian states. The noblest production of Mentz.
this territory is the wane, which is almost the only ^\
true Rhenish. Connoisseurs, indeed, allow the wines
of Neirstein, Baccarach, and a very fetv other places
out of this country, to be true Rhenish: but they
do not give this name to the wines of the Palatinate,
of Bardon, and of Alsatia. There is a great deal
of wine made in the countries which lie on the south
and west of the Rhine, at Laubenheim, Bodenheim.
Budesheim, and Bingen ; but the true Rhenish, that
which inspires so many who are and so many who
are not poets, comes only from the Rhinegau, which
lies on the northern banks of the Rhine. See Rhine¬
gau.
The civil and military establishments of the arch¬
bishop, like those of the other German princes, were
upon a scale disproportioned to his territories. “ He
has,” says Baron Riesbeck, his ministers, his counsel¬
lors of state, and eighty or ninety privy counsel¬
lors of various denominations. The expence of this
establishment is very disproportionate to the revenue
of the state. This is owing to the large number of
poor nobility, who can only accept of employments
of this kind. Ignorance of the true principles of go¬
vernment are the causes of this evil. The consequen¬
ces are, that a great number of persons, who might
be usefully employed, live in idleness. Even the mi¬
litary establishment of the country appears to me more
calculated for the purpose of feeding a hungry nobi¬
lity than for real use. At the accession of the present
elector, though the whole army only consisted of 2200
men, there were six generals. The regular establish¬
ment paid for and supported by the country is 8000
men ; but though there are only 2000 men kept up,
the money expended for their support, particularly
that given to numberless useless officers, might be
made use of more for the benefit of the country. The
army of the archbishop consists of a German guard of
50 men and 25 horses, a Swiss guard, a squadron of
hussars of 130 men (the most useful troops, as they
purge the land of robbers and murderers), a corps ot
artillery of 104 men, three regiments of infantry of
600 men each, and some companies belonging to the
armies of Franconia and the Upper Palatinate. Of
the fortifications of the capital we may say much the
same as of the army. Were they, indeed, improved
and kept up as they ought to be, they would vie
with Luxemburg, and be the most powerful of all the
barriers against France. It is true, that the nature of
the ground does not allow of a regular plan ; but for
single parts, I have seen no place of the same capabi¬
lities, where greater advantages has been taken of
the ground for the ei’ection of the several works. I he
beauty, as well as size of them, is indeed an object of
great wonder ; but though the circle of the Upper
Rhine, and even the empire in general, has laid out
great sums on the building these fortifications, parts
of them are not finished, and parts of them are ready
to fall to pieces. Their extent, indeed, would require
a great army to man 'them. But this, as well as the
maintaining and keeping them up, is evidently beyond
the power of this court, or indeed of the whole circle
of the Upper Rhine united. They are, therefore, also
f 3 X to
MEN [ 53° ] MEN
Mentz. to be looked upon as one oi' the things which serve
~v" — 1 more for magnificence than real use.
Mentz, a considerable town of Germany, in the
circle of the Lower Rhine, and capital of the late elec¬
torate of the same name, is situated on the Rhine near
its confluence with the Maine, 20 miles north-west of
Worms, 15 west of Francfort, and 75 east of Triers,
in E. Long. 8. 20. N. Lat. 40. 51. This city claims
a right to the invention of the art of printing : (see
History of Printing). Here is a very beautiful quay
along the river, defended by several works well forti¬
fied "with cannon. That part of the city which ex¬
tends towards the river is most populous. Ihe best
vineyards for Rhenish wfine being in this neighbour¬
hood, Mentz has a flourishing trade in that commodi¬
ty more particularly ; and its commerce is the brisker,
by reason that all the merchandise which passes up and
down the Rhine stops in its harbour to change bottoms.
The northern part of the city, in which the arch¬
bishop resides, is full of very regular buildings. Here
are three regular streets, called the Plerchen, which run
parallel to each other from the banks of the Rhine to
600 yards within the city, and are cut almost regularly
by very pretty cross streets. The archbishop’s palace
has a most commanding view of these streets, the Rhine,
and the Rhinegau. There are also some good build¬
ings in the old part of the city. The market of beasts
is extremely well worth seeing} and you here and
there meet with other agreeable spots. The market
in the middle of the town, though^ not regular, is one
of the prettiest places in Germany. The cathedral is
well worth notice. It is an immense large old Go¬
thic building, the spii’e of which was struck with
lightning many years ago, and entirely laid in ashes.
As it contained much wood, it burned 14 hours be¬
fore it was entirely consumed. To prevent these ac¬
cidents for the future, the chapter had the present
one built to the same height in stone, an undertaking
which cost them 40,000 guilders or 4000I. It is a
- great pity (Baron Riesbeck observes) that it is over¬
loaded with small ornaments: and a still greater,
that this wonderful edifice is so choked up with shops
and houses as to be hardly more than half visible. As,
however, houses and shops are very dear in this part
of the town, one cannot be very angry with the chap¬
ter for choosing rather to make the most of its ground,
than to show off the church to the best advantage. The
rent of a shop and a single room to live in is 150 guil¬
ders or 15I. per annum in this part of the town.
There is hardly another church in Germany of the
height and length of this cathedral *, and the inside of
it is decorated with several magnificent monuments of
princes and other great personages. Besides the ca¬
thedral, the city of Mentz contains several other
churches in the modern style, very well worth seeing.
St Peter’s, and the Jesuits church, though both too
much loaded with ornament, are among this number.
The church of the Augustins, of which the inhabi¬
tants of Mentz are so proud, is a masterpiece of bad
taste ; but that of Ignatius, though little is said about
v it, would be a model of the antique, if here likewise
there had not been too much ornament lavished. Upon
the whole, the palaces cf the noblesse want that noble
simplicity which alone constitutes true beauty and mag- Menu
nificence. In another century the externals of the city
will be quite changed. The late prince built a great
deal, and the px-esent has a taste for the same sort of ex¬
pence. The monks and governors of hospitals also have
been forced to rebuild their houses j so that when a few
more streets are made broader and straighter, the whole
will have no bad appearance. The inhabitants, who
together with the garrison amount to 30,000, are a good
kind of people, and, like all the catholics of Germany,
make great account of a good table. Their faces art
interesting, and they are not deficient either in wit or
activity.
There are few cities in Geimiany besides Vienna
which contain so rich and numerous a nobility as this
does : there are some houses here which have estates of
100,000 guildei’s, or io,oool. a-year. The counts of
Bassexiheim, Schonborn, Stadion, Ingelheim, Elz, Os¬
tein, and Walderdorf, and the lords of Hahlberg, Brei-
tenbach, with some others, have incomes of fi-om 30,000
to 100,000 guilders. Sixteen or eighteen houses have
from 15,000 to 30,000 guilders annual revenue. The
nobility of this place are said to be some of the oldest
and most untainted in Germany. There are amongst
them many persons of extraordinai-y merit, who join
uncommon knowledge to all the duties of active life.
Upon the whole, they are far superior to the greater
part of the German nobility. Their education, how¬
ever, is still too stiff. The first minister of the court
w7as refused admittance into their assemblies for not
being sufficiently noble ; and they think they degrade
themselves by keeping company with bourgeois.
The clergy of this place are the richest in Germany.
A canonry brings in 3500 Rhenish guilders in a mode¬
rate year. The canonry of the provost bx-ings him in
40,000 guilders a-years ; and each of the deaneries is
worth 2600 guilders. The income of the chapter al¬
together amounts to / 300,000 guilders. Though it is
forbidden by the canons of the church for any one to
have more than a single prebend, there is not an ec¬
clesiastic in this place who has not three or four; so
that thei'e is hardly a man amongst them who has not
at least 8oco guildei'S a-year. The last proves!, a count
of Elz, had prebends enough to procure him an in¬
come of 75,000 guilders. Exclusive of the cathedral,
there are several other choirs in which the canonries
bring in from 1200 to 1500 guilders a-year. To give
an idea of the riches of the monasteries of this place,
Baron Riesbeck informs us, that at the destruction of
the Jesuits, their wine, which was reckoned to sell
extremely cheap, produced 120,000 rixdollars. A
little while ago the elector abolished one Carthusian
convent and two nunneries, in the holy cellars of which
there was found wine for at least 500,000 rixdollars.
“ Notwithstanding this great wealth (continues our
author), there is not a more i*egular clergy in all
Germany. There is no tliocese, in which the regula¬
tions made by the council of Trent have been more
strictly adhered to than they have here •, the archbi¬
shops having made a particular point of it both at the
time of the reformation and ever since. One thing
which greatly contributes to keep up discipline is
the not suffering any priest to remain in the country
MEN [ 53i ] ME N
,ntz who has not fixed and stated duties, and a revenue an¬
il nexed to them. Most of the irregularities in Bavaria,
II itlrias. Austria, and other countries, arise from abbes who are
u v obliged to subsist by their daily industry and any
masses which they can pick up. These creatures are
entirely unknown here. The theological tenets of this
court are also much purer than those of any other ec¬
clesiastical prince in Germany. I was pleased to see the
Bible in the hands of so many common people, espe¬
cially in the country. I was told that the reading of
it was not forbidden in any part of the diocese ; only
persons were enjoined not to read it through, without
the advice of their confessors. For a long time super¬
stition has been hunted through its utmost recesses j
and though it is not quite possible to get entirely clear
of pilgrimages and wonder-working images, you will
meet with no priest bold enough to exercise or to preach
such nonsense as we hear in the pulpits of other Ger¬
man churches.”
Though the trade of this place has been constantly
on the increase for these 18 or 20 years past, yet it is by
no means what it ought to be from the situation and
other advantages. The persons here who call themselves
merchants, and who make any considerable figure, are
in fact only brokers. A few toy-shops, five or six
druggists, and four or five manufacturers of tobacco,
are all that can possibly be called traders. There
is not a banker in the whole town ; and yet this
country enjoys the staple privilege, and commands by
means of the Maine, Necker, and Rhine, all the ex¬
ports and imports of Alsatia, the Palatinate, Franconia,
and a part of Suabia and Hesse, as far as the Nether¬
lands. The port too is constantly filled with ships, but
few of them contain any merchandise belonging to the
inhabitants of the place. The French took it by sur¬
prise in October 1792 } it surrendered to the king of
Prussia in 1793 } but the French again got possession
of it in October 1797 and it continued united to the
French empire till 1814, when it passed into the hands
of the allies- It now forms a part of Germany.
MENTZEL, Christian, born at Frustenwall in
the ]\£ittel-mark, is celebrated for his skill in medicine
and botany, in pursuit of which he travelled through
many countries. He had correspondents in the most
distant parts of the world. He died A. D. 1701 about
the 79th year of his age. He was a member of the
academy des Curieux de la Nature. His works are,
1. Index nominurn plant arum, printed at Berlin in folio,
1696 and reprinted with additions in I7I5» unt^er
the title of Lexicon plant arum poh/glotton universale.
2. A Chronology of China, in German, printed at Berlin
1696, in 4to. The following manuscripts of his com¬
position are preserved in the royal library at Berlin.
I. $ur PHistoire Naturelle du Brasil, in four volumes fo¬
lio. 2. Sur les Fleurs et les Pla7ites du Japan, with
coloured plates, two vols folio.
MENUS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Germany j
now the Maine, rising in Franconia, and running from
east to west into the Rhine at Mentz.
- MENUTHIAS, in Ancient Geography, an island
adjoining to the north-east oi the promontory Prasum
of Ethiopia beyond Egypt. Some take it to be Mada¬
gascar, or the island St Laurence. Isaac Vossius will
. have it to be Xan%ibar ; Madagascar being at a greater
distance from the continent than the ancients ever sailed Menuthivis
to, whereas Menuthias was nearer : yet though Zan- 1!
zibar be nearer the continent, it is however nearer the
equator than Ptolemy’s Menuthias, placed in south la¬
titude 1 degrees.
MENYANTHES, Marsh-trefoil, ov Boghean ;
a genus of plants belonging to the pentandria class j
and in the natural method ranking under the 21st or¬
der, Precise. See Botany Index.
MENZIKOFF, Alexander, was originally an ap¬
prentice to a pastry-cook near the palace of Moscow ;
but by a fortunate circumstance was drawn from that
situation in early life, and placed in the household of
Peter the Great. Having made himself master of se¬
veral languages, and being formed for wrar and for bu¬
siness, he first rendered himself “agreeable, and after¬
wards became necessary to his master. He assisted
Peter in all his projectsand was rewarded for his ser¬
vices with the government of Ingria, the rank of
prince, and the title of major-general. He signalized
himself in Poland in 1708 and I7°9 ? in 17I3
was accused of embezzling the public money, and
fined in 300,000 crowns. The czar remitted the
fine j and having restored him to favour, gave him
the command of an army in the Ukraine in 1719,
and sent him as his ambassador into Poland in 1722.
Constantly employed about the means of preserving
his influence after the death of his master, who was
then evidently on the decline, Menzikoft discovered
the person to whom the czar intended to leave the
succession. The emperor was highly offended, and
his penetration cost him the principality of Plescoft.
Under the czarina Catherine, however, he was higher
in favour than ever j because, on the death of the
czar in 1725, he was active in bringing different par¬
ties in Russia to agree to her succession. This prin¬
cess was not ungrateful. In appointing her son-in-
law Peter II. to be her successor, she commanded him
to marry the daughter of Menzikoff, and gave the
czar’s sister to his son. The parties were actually be¬
trothed : and Menzikoff was made duke of Cozel and
grand steward to the czar. But this summit of eleva¬
tion was the prelude to his fall. The Bolgoroukis,
favourites of the czar, had influence enough to pro¬
cure his banishment, together with that of his family,
to one of his own estates at the distance of 250 leagues
from Moscow. He had the imprudence to leave the
capital with the splendor and magnificence of a go¬
vernor going to take possession of his province. His
enemies took advantage of this circumstance to in¬
name the indignation of the czar. At some distance
from Moscow he was overtaken by a detachment of
soldiers. The officer who commanded them made him
alight from his chariot, which he sent back to Mos¬
cow ; and placed him and his whole family in covered
waggons, to be conducted into Siberia, in tlm habit
of peasants. When he arrived at the place of his des¬
tination, he was presented with cows and sheep big
with young, and poultry, without knowing from
whom he received the favour. His house was a simple
cottage; and his employment was to cultivate the
ground, or to superintend its cultivation. New causes
of sorrow were added to the severities of exile. His
wife died in the journey, he had the misfortune to lose
3X2 OP*
M E Q [ 532 ] ME R
Menzikoff one of his daughters hy the smallpox; and his other
|| two 'children were seized with the same disease, but re-
Mequinez. coveJed. Pie sunk under his misfortunes, Novem-
v ber 2. 1729 ; and was buried beside his daughter, in a
little chapel which he had built. His misfortunes had
inspired him with sentiments of devotion, which, amid
the splendor of his former situation, he had altogether
neglected. His two surviving children enjoyed greater
liberty after the death of their father. The officer
permitted them to attend public worship on Sundays by
turns. One day when his daughter was returning from
the village, she heard herself accosted by a peasant
from the window of a cottage, and, to her great sur¬
prise, recognised in this peasant the persecutor of her
family, Dolgorouki ; who, in his turn, had fallen a
sacrifice to the intrigues of the court. She communica¬
ted this intelligence to her brother, who could not be¬
hold, without emotion, this new instance of the vanity
and instability of honours and power. Young Menzi¬
koff and his sister were soon after recalled to Moscow
by the czarina Ann ; and left Dolgorouki in possession
of their cottage. He was made captain of the guards,
and received the fifth part of his father’s possessions.
His sister was appointed maid of honour to the empress,
and afterwards married to great advantage.
MENZINI, Benedict, a celebrated Italian poet,
born at Florence, wras prfifessor of eloquence at the col¬
lege Della Sapienza at Borne, where he died in 1704.
He wrote, 1. The art of poetry. 2. Satires, elegies,
hymns, and the Lamentations of Jeremiah. 3. Aca¬
demia Uuseulana, a work in verse and prose, which
passes for his masterpiece.
MEOTIS, or Palus Meotis, a sea of Turkey,
which divides Europe from Asia 5 extending from
Crim Tartary to the mouth of the river Don or Ta¬
mils.
MEPHITIC, a name expressing any kind of noxi¬
ous vapour but generally applied to that species of
vapour called fixed air. See Carbonic Acid, Chemi¬
stry Index.
MEPHITIS fanum, a temple erected to the god¬
dess Mephitis, near Lacus Amsancti ; who was wor¬
shipped also at Cremona. Figuratively, Mephitis de¬
notes a noisome or pestilential exhalation, (Virgil).
ME QUINE Z, or Miquinez, the northern capital
of the Morocco empire, stands at the extremity of the
province of Beni Hassen, 80 leagues north from the
city of Morocco (which is the southern imperial city),
and 20 to the east of Sallee and the ocean. Maknassa,
its founder, built it first at the bottom, of a valley ; but
Muley Ismael extended it considerably over the plain
that lies to the west of the valley. It is surrounded
with well cultivated fields and hills, adorned with gar¬
dens and olive plantations, and abundantly watered with
rivulets. Accordingly, fruits and kitchen stuffs thrive
here exceedingly, and even the superior urbanity of the
inhabitants announces the temperature of the climate.
The winter indeed is very inconvenient, on account of
the dirtiness of the town, the streets not being paved,
and the soil being slimy.
Mequinez is surrounded with walls *, the palace itself
is fortified with two bastions, on which formerly some
small guns were mounted. Muley Ismael, and Muley
Abdallah, often in this city resisted the efforts of the
Brebes, the sworn enemies of their tyranny. To the
4
west are seen some wralls of circumvallation, six feet in Me uk
height, which were probably mere intrenchments for j|
the infantry j the attacks of the Brebes being only Mercat
sudden and momentary inroads, which did not require
a long defence. There is at Mequinez, as wtII as at
Morocco, a walled and guarded suburb for the Jew's.
The houses are neater here than at Morocco. The
Jews here are more numerous ; and they can turn their
industry to greater account, because the Moors in this
city are more polished, and (being nearer to Europe)
more visited, than those in the southern parts. Near
the Jewry, there is another enclosed and separate quar¬
ter, called the Negro town. It wras built by Muley Is¬
mael, for the accommodation of those black families
which composed his soldiery. This town is now unin¬
habited, as are all those destined for the same use
through the rest of the empire.
At the south-east extremity of the city stands the
palace of the emperor, which was built by Muley Is¬
mael. The space occupied by this palace is very
great 5 it includes several gardens, elegantly disposed,
and well watered. There is a large garden in the
centre, surrounded by a vast and pretty regular gal¬
lery resting on columns, which communicates with
the apartments. Those of the W'omen are very spaci¬
ous, and have a communication with a large chamber
which looks into the garden. As you pass from one
apartment to another, you find at intervals regular courts
paved with square pieces of black and white marble ; in
the middle of these courts is a marble basin, from the
.centre of which rises a jet d'eau, and the water falls
down into this basin. These fountains are numerous in
the palace; they are useful for domestic purposes, and
they serve for the ablutions, which the scruples of the
Mahometans have exceedingly multiplied. The palaces
of the Moorish kings are large, because they are com¬
posed only of one range of apartments ; these are long
and narrow, from 18 to 20 feet high 3 they have few
ornaments, and receive the light by two large folding
doors, which are opened more or less as occasion re¬
quires. The rooms are always lighted from a square
court in the centre, which is generally encompassed
with a colonnade.
The Moors here are more courteous than those in
the southern parts ; they are civil to strangers, and in¬
vite them into their gardens, which are very neat.
The women in this part of the empire are beautiful j
they have a fair complexion, with fine black eyes, and
white teeth. I have sometimes seen them taking the
air on the terraces; they do not hide themselves from
Europeans, but retire very quickly on the appearance
of a Moor.
MERA-DE-Asta, formerly a large town of Anda¬
lusia, seated on the l iver Guadaleta, between Arcos
and Xeres de la Frontera ; but now only a large heap
of ruins. Here the Arabs conquered Roderick the last
king of the Goths, and by that victoi’y became masters
of Spain in 713.
MERCATOR, Gerard, one of the most cele¬
brated geographers of his time, was born at Rure-
monde in 1512. He applied himself with such in¬
dustry to geography and mathematics, that he is said
to have frequently forgot to eat and drink. The em¬
peror Charles V. had a particular esteem for him, and
the duke of Juliers made him his cosmographer. He
composed
M E R
tor composed a chronology, some geographical tables, an
atlas, Sec. engraving and colouring the maps him-
ant, self. He died in 1594. His method of laying down
charts is still used, and bears the name of Mercator's
charts.
Mercator, Nicholas, an eminent mathematician in
the 17th century, was born at Holstein in Denmark •,
and came to England about the time of the restoration,
where he lived many years. He was fellow of the
Koyal Society ) and endeavoured to reduce astrology to
rational principles, as appeared from a MS. of his in
the possession of M illiam Jones, Esq. He published se¬
veral works, particularly Cosmographia. He gave the
quadrature of the hyperbola by an infinite series 5
which was the first appearance in the learned world of
a series of this sort drawn from the particular nature of
the curve, and that in a manner very new and ab¬
stracted.
Mercator's Sailing, that performed by Mercator’s
chart. See Navigation.
MERCATORUM FESTUM, -was a festival kept by
the Roman merchants on the 15th of May, in ho¬
nour of Mercury, who presided over merchandise. A
sow was sacrificed on the occasion, and the people
present sprinkled themselves with water fetched from
the fountain called aqua Mercurii; the whole conclud¬
ing with prayers to the god for the prosperity of
trade.
MERCHANT, a person who buys and sells com¬
modities in gross, or deals in exchanges 5 or that traf¬
fics in the Avay of commerce, either by importation or
exportation. Formerly every one who was a buyer or
seller in the retail way was called a merchant, as they
still are both in France and Holland $ but here shop¬
keepers, or those who attend fairs or markets, have
lost that appellation.
Previous to a person’s engaging in a general trade,
and becoming an universal dealer, he ought to treasure
up such a fund of useful knowledge as will enable him
to carry it on with ease to himself, and without risk¬
ing such losses as great ill-concerted undertakings
would naturally expose him to. A merchant should
therefore be acquainted with the following parts of
commercial learning : 1. He should write properly and
correctly. 2. Understand all the rules ol arithmetic
that have any relation to commerce. 3. Know how
to keep books of double and single entry, as journals,,
a leger, &c. 4. Be expert in the forms ot invoices,
accounts of sales, policies of insurances, charter-par¬
ties, bills of lading, and bills of exchange. 5. Know
the agreement between the money, weights, and mea¬
sures of all parts. 6. If he deal in silk, woollen,,
linen, or hair manufactures, he ought to know the
places where these different sorts of merchandises are
manufactured, in what manner they are made, what are -
the materials of which they are composed, and from
whence they come, the proportions of these materials
before working up, and the places in which they are
sent after their fabrication. 7* He ought to know the
lengths and breadths which silk, woollen, or hair stuffs,
linen, cottons, fustians, &c. ought to have according
to the several statutes and regulations of the places
where they are manufactured, with their different prices,
according to the times and seasons j and if he can add
to his knowledge the different dyes and ingredients
M E R
which form the various colours, it -will not be useless. Merchant.
8. If he confines his trade to that of oils, wines, &Ci v
he ought to inform himself particularly of the appear¬
ances ol the succeeding crops, in order to regulate his
disposing of what he has on hand 5 and to learn as ex¬
actly as he can what they have produced when got in,
lor his direction m making the necessary purchases and
engagements. 9. He ought to be acquainted with the
sorts of merchandise found more in one country than
another, those which are scarce, their different species
and qualities, and the properest method for bringing
them to a good market either by land or sea. 10. To-
know which are the merchandises permitted or prohi¬
bited, as well on entering as going out of the king¬
doms or states Avhere they are made. 11. To be ac¬
quainted with the price of exchange, according to the
course of different places, and what is the cause of its
rise and fall. 12. To know the customs due on im¬
portation or exportation of merchandises, according to
the usage, the tariff’s, and regulations of the places to
which he trades. 13. To know the best manner of
folding up, embaling, or tunning, the merchandises for
their preservation. 14. To understand the price and
condition of freighting and insuring ships and mer¬
chandise. 15. To be acquainted with the goodness
and value of all necessaries for the construction and re¬
pairs of shipping, the different manner of their build¬
ing j what the wood, the masts, cordage, cannons,
sails, and all requisites, may cost. 16. To know the
wages commonly given to the captain, officers, and
sailors, and the manner of engaging with them.
17. He ought to understand the foreign languages, or
at least as many of them as he can attain to ; these
may be reduced to four, viz. the Spanish, which is
used not only in Spain but on the coast of Africa,
from the Canaries to the Cape of Good Hope : the
Italian, which is understood on all the coasts of the
Mediterranean, and in many parts of the Levant: the
German, which is understood in almost all the northern
countries; and the French, which is now become al¬
most universally current. 18. He ought to be ac¬
quainted with the consular jurisdiction, with the laws,
customs, and usages of the different countries he does
or may trade toy and in general all the ordinances
and regulations both at home and abroad that have
any relation to commerce. 19. Though it is not ne¬
cessary for a merchant to be very learned, it is proper
that he should know something of history, particularly
that of his own country \ geography, hydrography, or
the science of navigation j and that he be acquainted
with the discoveries of the-countries in which trade is
established, in what manner it is settled, of the compa¬
nies formed to support those establishments, and of the
colonies they have sent out.
All these branches of knowledge are of great ser¬
vice to a merchant who carries on an extensive com¬
merce $ but if his trade and his views are more limited,
his learning and knowledge, may. be so too.; but a
material requisite for forming a merchant is. Ins having
on all occasions a strict regard to truth, and his avoid¬
ing fraud anil deceit as corroding cankers that must
inevitably destroy his reputation and fortune. > ,
Trade is a thing of so universal a nature, that it is
impossible for the laws of Britain, or of any other na¬
tion, to determine all the affairs relating-to it; there-
r 533 i
M E B [ 534 ] M E B
Merchant fore all nations, as well as Great Britain, show a parti-
II cular regard to the law-merchant, which is a law made
. ^Icrcm- , by the merchants among themselves : however, mer-
‘chants and other strangers are subject to the laws of the
country in which they reside. Foreign merchants are
to sell their merchandise at the port where they land,
in gross, and not by retail: and they are allowed to be
paid in gold or silver bullion, in foreign coin or jewels,
which may be exported. If a difference arises between
the king and any foreign state, the merchants of that
state are allowed six months time to sell their effects
and leave the kingdom ; during which time they are
to remain free and unmolested in their persons and
goods. See the articles Commerce and Mercantile
Law.
MERCHF.T (Merchetum), a fine or composition
paid by inferior tenants to the lord, for liberty to dis¬
pose of their daughters in marriage. No baron, or mi¬
litary tenant, could marry his sole daughter and heir,
without such leave purchased from the king pro mari-
ianda filia. And many of our servile tenants could nei¬
ther send their sons to school, nor give their daughters
in marriage, without express leave from the superior
lord. See Kennet’s Glossary in Maritagium. See also
Marchet, under which word it is stated, and very ge¬
nerally understood, that this was a right claimed by the
lord of the manor in the time of the feudal system of
passing the first night after marriage with his female vil¬
lain. According to Mr Astle, the mercheta was a com¬
pact between the lord and his vassal for the redemption
of an offence committed by the vassal’s unmarried
daughter j and also a fine paid by a sokeman or a vil¬
lain to his lord for permission to marry his daughter to a
free man •, and in cases where the vassal gave away his
daughter without having obtained this license, he sub¬
jected himself to a heavier fine.
MERCIA, the name of one of the seven kingdoms
founded in England by the Saxons. Though the latest
formed, it was the largest of them all, and grew by de¬
grees to be by far the most powerful. On the north it
was bounded by the Humber and the Mersey, which se¬
parated it from the kingdom of Northumberland ; on
the east by the sea, and the territories of the East
Angles and Saxons ; on the south by the river Thames 5
and on the west by the rivers Severn and Dee. It
comprehended well nigh 17 of our modern counties,
being equal in size to the province of Languedoc in
France ; very little, if at all, less than the kingdom of
Arragon in Spain 5 and superior in size to that of Bo¬
hemia in Germany.
# ^ enda is regarded as its first monarch £ and the
kingdom is thought to derive its name from the Saxon
word mere, which signifies “ a march, bound, or li¬
mit, because the other kingdoms bordered upon it
on every side j and not from the river Mersey, as some
would persuade us. Penda assumed the regal title
A. D. 626, and was of the age of 50 at the time of
iiis accession j after which he reigned near thirty years.
He was of a most furious and turbulent temper, break¬
ing at different times with almost all his neighbours,
calling in the Britons to his assistance, and shedding
more Saxon blood than had been hitherto spilled in
all their intestine quarrels. He killed two kings of
Northumberland, three of the East Angles, and com¬
pelled Kenwall king of the West Saxons to quit his
3
dominions. He wras at length slain, with most of the Men
princes of his family, and a multitude of his subjects,1—-y
in a battle fought not far from Leeds, by Osivy king
•of Northumberland, This battle, which the Saxon
chronicle tells us was fought at Winwidfield, A. I).
655, made a great change in the Saxon affairs, which
the unbridled fury of Penda had thrown into great
confusion. He had the year before killed Anna king
of the East Angles in battle, whose brother Ethel-
red notwithstanding took part with Penda. On the
other hand, Penda, the eldest son of Penda, to whom
his father had given the ancient kingdom of the Mid
Angles, had two years before married the natural
daughter of King OswTy, and had been baptized at
his court. At that time it should seem that Oswy
and Penda were upon good terms j but after the lat¬
ter had conquered the East Angles, he resolved to
turn his arms against the kingdom of Northumberland.
Oswy by no means had provoked this rupture ; on the
contrary, Bede tells us that he offered large sums of
money, and jewels of great value, to purchase peace :
these ofl'ers being rejected, he was reduced to the ne¬
cessity of deciding the quarrel by the sword. The
river near which the battle was fought overflowing,
there were more drowned than killed. Amongst these,
as the Saxon chronicle says, there were thirty princes
of the royal line, some of whom bore the title of
kings; and also Ethelred king of the East Angles,
wdio fought on the side of Penda against his family and
country.
His son Penda, who married the daughter of that
conqueror became a Christian, and was not long after
murdered, as is said, by the malice of his mother. His
brother Wolfher becoming king of Mercia, embraced
in process of time the faith of the gospel, and proved
a very victorious and potent monarch j and is, with no
fewer than seven of his immediate successors, commonly
styled king of the Anglo-Saxons, though none of them
are owned in that quality by the Saxon chronicle. But
though possibly none of them might enjoy this ho¬
nour, they were undoubtedly very puissant princes,
maintaining great wars, and obtaining many advan¬
tages over the sovereigns of other Saxon states, and
especially the East Angles, whom they reduced. The
extent of the Mercian territories was so ample as to
admit, and so situated as to require, the constituting
subordinate rulers in several provinces j to whom, espe¬
cially if they were of the royal line, they gave the title
of kings ; which occasions some confusion in their his¬
tory. Besides the establishing episcopal sees and con¬
vents, the Saxon monarchs took other methods for
improving and adorning their dominions j and as Mer¬
cia wras the largest, so these methods were most con¬
spicuous therein. Coventry, as being situated in the
centre, was usually, but not always, the royal resi¬
dence. Penda, who was almost continually in a state
of war, lived as his military operations directed, in
some great town on the frontiers. Wolfher built a
castle or fortified palace for his own residence, which
bore his name.-—Offa kept his court at Sutton Walls
near Plereford.
In each of the provinces there resided a chief magi¬
strate j and if he was of the royal blood, had usually
the title of king. Penda, at the time he married Os-
wy’s daughter, had the title of king of Leicester.—
Ethelred
M E R [
ia Ethelred made his brother Merowald king of Here¬
ford 5 who, dying without issue, bequeathed it to his
^ younger brother Mercelm. The like honours were
sometimes conferred upon the princesses; and hence
in Mercia especially, we occasionally read of vice-
queens. By these means the laws were better executed
the obedience of the subjects more effectually secured’
and the splendour of these residences constantly kept up
and augmented.
At length the crown devolving sometimes on mi¬
nors and sometimes on weak princes, intestine fac¬
tions also prevailing, the force of this hitherto mighty
kingdom began sensibly to decline. This falling out
in the days of Egbert, the most prudent as well as
the most potent monarch of the West Saxons, he
took advantage of these circumstances $ and having
encouraged the East Angles to make an attempt for
the recovery of their independence, he, in a conjunc¬
ture every way favourable to his design, broke with
the Mercians, and after a short war obliged them to
submit. But this was not an absolute conquest, the
kings of Mercia being allowed by him and his suc¬
cessors to retain their titles and dominions, till the
invasion of the Danes put an end to their rule, when
this kingdom had subsisted above 250 years; and
when the Danes were afterwards expelled by the West
Saxons, it sunk into a province, or rather was divided
into many.
] M E K
Horace gives us the best part of his character ; Mercury.
Thou god of wit, from Atlas sprung,.
Who by persuasive pow’r of tongue,
And graceful exercise, refin’d
The savage race of human kind,
Hail ! winged messenger of Jove,
And all th’ immortal pow’rs above.
Sweet parent of the bending lyre,
Thy praise shall all its sounds inspire.
Artful and cunning to conceal
Whate’er in sportive theft you steal,
When from the gold who gilds the pole.
E’en yet a boy, his herds you stole ;
With angry voice the threat’ning power
Bade thee thy fraudful prey restore ;
But of his quiver too beguil’d,
Pleas’d with the theft, Apollo smil’d.
You were the wealthy Priam’s guide,
When safe from Agamemnon’s pride,
Through hostile camps, which round him spread
Their watchful fires, his way he sped.
Unspotted spirits you consign
To blissful seats and joys divine;
And, pow’rful, with thy golden wand,
The light, unbodied crowd command ;
Thus grateful does thy oflice prove
To gods below, and geds above. Francis.
MERCURIAL, something consisting of, or relating
to, mercury.
MERCURIALIS, Dogs Mercury ; a genus of
plants belonging to the dicecia class; and in the natu¬
ral method ranking under the 38th order, Tricoccce.
See Botany Index.
MERCUR1FICATION, in metallurgic chemistry,
the obtaining the mercury from metallic minerals in
its fluid form. See Chemistry and Mineralogy
Index.
MERCURY, or Quicksilver. See Chemistry
and Mineralogy Index.
Mercury, in the heathen mythology. See Her¬
mes.
Most of the actions and inventions of the Egyptian
Mercury have likewise been ascribed to the Grecian,
who was said to be the son of Jupiter and Maia, the
daughter of Atlas. No one of all the heathen divini¬
ties had so many functions allotted to him as this god :
he had constant employment both day and night, ha¬
ving been the common minister and messenger of the
whole Pantheon; particularly of his father Jupiter,
whom he served with indefatigable labour, and some¬
times, indeed, in a capacity of no very honourable
kind. Lucian is very pleasant upon the multitude of
his avocations; and according to the confession of the
emperor Julian, Mercury was no hero, but rather one
who inspired mankind with wit, learning, and the or¬
namental arts of life, than with courage. The pious
emperor, however, omits some of his attributes ; for this
god was not only the patron of trade, but also of theft
and fraud.
Amphion is said, by Pausanias, to have been the first
that erected an altar to this god ; who, in return, in¬
vested him with such extraordinary powers of music
(and masonry), as to enable him to fortify the city of
Thebes in Boeotia, by the mere sound of his lyre.
This ode contains the substance of a very long hymn
to Mercury, attributed to Homer. Almost all the an¬
cient poets relate the manner in which the Grecian
Mercury discovered the lyre; and tell us that it was
an instrument with seven strings ; a circumstance which
makes it essentially different from that said to have
been invented by the Egyptian Mercury, which had
but three. However, there have been many claimants
besides Mercury to the seven-stringed lyre. See
Lyre.
His most magnificent temple was on Mount Cylene,
in Arcadia. He is described by the poets as a fair
beardless youth, with flaxen hair, lively blue eyes, and
a smiling countenance. He has wings fixed to his cap
and sandals, and holds the caduceus (or staff surround¬
ed with serpents, with two wings on the top), in his
hand ; and is frequently represented with a purse, to
show that he was the god of gain. The animals sa¬
cred to him, were the dog, the goat, and the cock.
In all the sacrifices offered to him, the tongues of
the victims were burnt; and those who escaped im¬
minent danger sacrificed to him a calf with milk and
honey.
Mercury, £ in Astronomy. See Astronomy
Index.
This planet is brightest between his elongations and
superior conjunction, very near to which last he can
generally' be seen. He becomes invisible soon after he
has found his elongation, going towards his inferior
conjunction ; and becomes visible again a few days be¬
fore his next elongation. 'I he brightness of this planet
alters sometimes very considerably in 24 hours. It has
been observed when less than three degrees distant from
the sun, and may, perhaps, sometimes be seen even in
conjunction with it.
Mercury and Venus appear brightest and most beau¬
tiful in the opposite parts of their orbits: the first, be-
ttveen.
M E R [ 536 ] MLR
Mercury tween his elongations and superior conjunction j and
il the other, between her elongations and inferior con-
Mercy- juncti0n. Therefore, Venus is seen in great perfection
. Scat' . as a crescent, particularly in her inferior conjunction,
’ whilst Mercury is seldom seen in such perfect phases.
Mercury should be always observed on or near the me¬
ridian. When farthest from the sun,'he always appears
with a very faint light 5 and when he has a great
south declination, or the atmosphere is not perfectly
clear, he seldom can be seen in those parts of bis or¬
bit, where he only begins to recover his brightness, or
where it is much diminished. He has frequently been
seen on the meridian even with a small telescope and
small power and it appears from the above statement
that he may be obscured in a clear day rather more
than half his orbit, or near one hundred and fourscore
days in the year.
Mercury, in Heraldry, a term used in blazoning
by planets, for the purple colour used in the arms ol so-
vereign princes.
MERCY, a virtue that inspires us with compassion
for our brethren, and which inclines us to give them
assistance in their necessities. Mercy is also taken for
those favours and benefits that we receive either from
God or man, particularly in the wray of forgiveness of
injuries or of debts. Nothing can be more beautiful
than the description of mercy given us by Shakespeare,
in the pleading between Portia and the Jew:
Par. Then must the Jew be merciful.
Shy. On what compulsion must 1 ? tell me that.
Pot. The quality of mercy is not strain’d $
It droppeth as the gentle x'ain from heav’n
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless’d :
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest j it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown :
The sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
T he attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings j
But mercy is above this scepter’d sway,
It is enthroned in the heart of kings j
It is an attribute to God himself,
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy 3
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. Merchant of Venice, act iv.
MERCY-SEAT, or Propitiatory, in Jewish an¬
tiquity, the covering of the ark of the covenant.—The
Hebrew name of this cover, which we translate mercy-
seat, is Capporeth (Exod. xxv. 17. 22.), from Cappor,
which signifies to cover, to shut up, to expiate, to pay.
This cover was of gold, and at its two ends were fixed
the two cherubims of the same metal, xvhich by their
wings extended forwards, seemed to form a throne for
the majesty of God, who in scripture is represented to
us as sitting between the cherubims, and the ark it¬
self was as it were his footstool. It was from hence
that God gave his oracles to Moses, or to the high
priest that consulted him, (Exod. xxv. 22. Numb. vii.
89.).
MERETRIX, among the Romans, differed from ,,
the prostibula. The prostibulcc were common courte- !
sans, with bills over their doors, signifying their profes- Meri
sion, and were ready at all times to entertain custom- '—““v •>
ers 3 whereas the meretrices entertained none but at
night.—The meretrices differed in their dress from the
matrons; the former wore the toga and short tunics,
like those of the men : the latter wore the palla and the
stola of such a length as to reach to their feet.
MERGANSER. Sec Merges.
MERGES, a genus of birds of the order of anseres.
See Ornithology Index.
MERIAN, Maria Sibylla, a celebrated paint-
ress, born at Frankfort in 1647, was the daughter of
Matthias Merian, a noted engraver and geographer.—
As she showed a very great fondness for painting, she
was instructed by Abraham Mignon 3 from whom she
learned great neatness of handling and delicacy of co¬
lour. Her genius particularly led her to paint reptiles,
flowers, and insects, which she designed after nature,
and studied every object with a most curious and in¬
quisitive observation 3 so that her works rose every day
more and more into reputation. Frequently she paint¬
ed her subjects in water colours on vellum, and finish¬
ed an astonishing number of designs, as she was equally
indefatigable in her work and in her inquiries into the
curiosities of nature. She drew the flies and caterpil¬
lars in all the variety of changes and forms in which
they successively appear from their quiescent state till
they become butterflies 3 and also drew frogs, toads, ser¬
pents, ants, and spiders, after nature, with extraordinary
exactness and truth. She even undertook a voyage to
Surinam, to paint those insects and reptiles which were
peculiar to that climate 3 and at her return to her own
country published twro volumes of engravings after her
designs, which are well known to the curious. She died
in 1717. Her daughter Dorothea Henrietta Graff,
who painted in the same style, and had accompanied
her mother to Surinam, published a third volume col¬
lected from the designs of Sibylla 3 which complete work
has been always admired by the learned, as well as by
the professors of painting.
MERIDA, a strong town of Spain, in Estremadura,
built by the Romans before the birth of Christ. Here
are some fine remains of antiquity, particularly a trium¬
phal arch, but which is considerably decayed. It is
seated in an extensive and fertile plain, 47 miles east of
Elva, and 45 south by east of Alcantara. W. Long.
6. 4. N. Lat. 38. 42.
Merida, a town of North America, in New' Spain,
and capital of the province of Yucatan, where the
bishop and the governor of the province reside. It is
inhabited by Spaniards and native Americans 3 is 30
miles south of the sea, and 120 north-east of Cam-
peachy. W. Long. 89. 25. N. Lat. 20. 15.
Merida, a town of South America, in the kingdom
of New Granada, seated in a country abounding with
all kinds of fruits, 130 miles north-east of Pampeluna.
W. Long. 71. o. N. Lat. 8. 30.
MERIDEN, or Mireden, a town of Warwick¬
shire, 97 miles from London on the London road,
near Coventry. It is pleasantly situated, though in a
wet clayey situation, and is not ill built. The church
stands on an elevated spot, and contains some good
monuments. There is an inn here, about half way
from
jt Jen
Jl
j Ion.
M E R [ 537 ] ME R
from St Clement’s forest to Coventry, one of the finest
in this part of England, being built like a nobleman’s
seat.
MERIDIAN, in Geography, a great circle supposed
to be drawn through any part of the surface of the
earth, and the two poles ; and to which the sun is always
perpendicular at noon. See Geography.
In astronomy, this circle is supposed to he in the
heavens, and exactly perpendicular to the terrestrial one.
See Astronomy.
MERIDIANI, in antiquity, a name which the
Romans gave to a kind of gladiators, who entered the
^arena about noon after the bestiarii (who fought in
the morning against beasts) had finished. They were
thus called from meridies, i. e. noon, the time when they
exhibited their shows. The meridiani were a sort of
artless combatants, who fought man with man, sword
in hand. Hence Seneca takes occasion to observe,
.that the combats of-the morning were full of humanity
compared with those which followed.
MERIDIONAL DISTANCE, in Navigation, the
same with departure, or easting and westing ; being the
difference of longitude between the meridian under
which the ship now is, and any other meridian which
.she Avas under before.
Meridional parts, miles, or minutes, in Naviga¬
tion, are the parts by which the meridians in a Mer¬
cator’s chart do increase, as the parallels of latitude de¬
crease.
MERIONETHSHIRE, a county of North Wales,
js bounded on the north by Caernarvonshire and Den¬
bighshire on the east by Montgomeryshire on the
.west by St George’s channel, or the Irish sea 5 and on
the south by Cardiganshire ; extending 40 miles iu
length and 36 in breadth. It is divided into six hun¬
dreds •, in which are four market towns, 37 parishes*,
about 6137 houses, and 30,924 inhabitants, in 1811."
It lies in the diocese of Bangor, and sends one member
1c parliament. The air is very sharp in winter, on
account of its many high barren mountains } and the
soil is as bad as any in Wales, it being very rocky and
mountainous. However, this county feeds large flocks
of sheep, many goats, and large herds of horned cattle,
which find pretty good pasture in the valleys. Besides
these, among their other commodities may be reckoned
Welch cotton, deer, fowl, fish, and especially herrings,
which are often taken on this coast in great plenty. See
Merionethshire, Supplement.
MERIT, signifies desert. This term is more parti¬
cularly applied to signify the moral goodness of the ac¬
tions of men, and the rewards to which those actions
entitle them.
MERLIN, Ambrose, a famous English poet and
reputed prophet, flourished at the end of the 5th century.
Many surprising and ridiculous things are related oi
him. Several English authors have represented him as
the son of an incubus, and as transporting from Ireland
to England the great stones which form Stonehenge
on Salisbury plain. Extravagant prophecies and other
works are also attributed to him, on which some authors
have even written commentaries.
Merlin. See Falco, Ornithology Index.
' MERLON, in Fortification, is that part of a para¬
pet which is terminated by two embrasures of a battery.
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
MERLUCIUS, the Hake. See Gadus, Ichthy-
OLOGY Index. MerS.’
MERMAID, or Merman, a sea-creature fre-l——v-"—
qucntly talked of, supposed half human and half a
fish.
However naturalists may doubt of the reality of mer¬
men or mermaids, we have testimony enough to establish
it} though, how far these testimonies may be authen¬
tic, we cannot take upon us to say. In the year 1187,
as Lary informs us, such a monster was fished up in the
county of Suffolk, and kept by the governor for six
months. It bore so near, a conformity ivith man, that
nothing seemed Avanting to it but speech. One dav it
took the opportunity of making its escape 5 and plunging
intothesea,was nevermore heard off Hist.deAngleterre,
P. I. p. 403.
In the year 1430, after a huge tempest, which broke
doAArn the dikes in Holland, and made Avay for the sea
into the meadoivs, &c. some girls of the toA\rn of Edam
in "West Friesland, going in a boat to milk their cows,
perceived a mermaid embarrassed in the mud, Avith a
very little Avater. They took it into their boat, and
brought it with them to Edam, dressed it in woman’s
apparel, and taught it to spin. It fed like one of them,
but could never be brought to offer at speech. Some
time aftenvards it Avas brought to Haerlem, Avhere it
lived for some years, though still shoAving an inclination
to the Avater. Parival relates, that they had given it
some notion of a Deity, and that it made its reverences
very devoutly whenever it passed by a crucifix. He¬
lices de Hollande.
In the year 1560, near the island of Manaar, on the
western coast of the island of Ceylon, some fishermen
brought up, at one draught of a net, seven mermen and
mermaids ; of Avhich several Jesuits, and among the rest
F. Hen. Henriques and Dimas Bosquez, physicians to
the viceroy of Goa, Avere witnesses. The physician,
who examined them Avith a great deal of care, and
made dissection thereof, asserts, that all the parts both
internal and external were found perfectly conformable
to those of men. See the Hist, de la campagnie de le-
sus, P. II. T. iv. N° 276. Avhere the relation is given
at length.
We have another account of a merman, seen near the
great rock called Diamond, on the coast of Martinico.
The persons who saw it, gave in a precise descrip¬
tion of it before a notary. They affirmed that they saw
it Avipe its hand over its face, and even heard it bloiv
its nose.
Another creature of the same species was caught m
the Baltic in the year 1531» and sent as a present to
Sigismund king of Poland, Avith Avhom it lived three
days, and Avas seen by all the court. Another \rcry
young one wras taken near Rocca de Sintra, as related
by Damian Goes. The king of Portugal and the
grand master of the order of St James, are said to have
had a suit at law to determine which party these mon¬
sters belong to.
In Pontopidan’s Natural History of Norway, also,
we have accounts of mermaids ; but not more remark¬
able or any way better attested than the above, to which
we have given a place, merely to shew how far the
folly and extravagance of credulity have been carried
by weak minds.
MERNS,
M E R
Merns MERNS, Mearns, or Kincardineshire, a county
!| of Scotland. See KINCARDINESHIRE.
Meroe. MEEODACH was an ancient king of Babylon,
w}10 wa3 placed among the gods, and worshipped by
tbe Babylonians. Jeremiah (chap. 1. 2.), speaking of
the ruin of Babylon, says, “ Babylon is taken, Bel is
confounded, Merodach is broken in pieces 5 her idols
tire confounded, her images are broken in pieces.”
We find certain kings of Babylon, in whose names
that of Merodach is contained : for example, Evil-me-
rodach and Merodach-baladan. Evil-merodach was the
son of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, and had for his suc¬
cessor the wicked Belshazzar. Merodach-baladan, son
of Baladan king of Babylon, having heard that Heze-
kiah had been cured miraculously (Isa. xxxix.), and
that the sun had gone backwards to give him an as¬
surance of his recovery, sent him presents, and made
him compliments upon the recovery of his health.
Ptolemy calls him Mardoc-cmpadus; and says, that he
began to reign at Babylon 26 years after the beginning
of tbe era of Nabonassar, that is, in the year of the
world 2283.
MERGE, in Ancient Geography, an island of Ethio¬
pia beyond Egypt, in the Nile } with a cognominal
town, the metropolis of the Ethiopians.
The Jesuits have endeavoured to prove, that the pro¬
vince of Gojam in Abyssinia is the Meroe of the an¬
cients 3 but this is strongly contested by Mr Bruce,
who is of opinion, that it must be looked for somewhere
between tbe source of the Nile and its union with the
Atbara. The latter, he thinks, is very plainly the
Astaboras ot the ancients 3 and Pliny says, that this
stream encloses the left side of Merce as the Nile does
the right, in which case we must suppose him looking-
southward from Alexandria, otherwise the words would
not apply.
We are told by Diodorus Siculus, that Meroe had
its name from a sister of Cambyses king of Persia, who
died there in the expedition undertaken by that prince
against the Ethiopians. His army perished with hun¬
ger and thirst in the deserts beyond Meroe, which
could not have happened if they had reached Gojam,
the latter being one of the most plentiful countries in
the world. A further proot that Gojam cannot be
the ancient Meroe is, that the latter was enclosed be¬
tween the rivers Nile and Astaboras, while Gojam is
almost entirely surrounded by the Nile. If the an¬
cients wrere acquainted with Gojam, they must also
have been acquainted with the fountains of the Nile,
which we certainly know they were not. Pliny says’
that Meroe, the most considerable of all tbe islands of
the Nile, was called Astcibo7'(ist from the name of its
left channel, which cannot be supposed any other than
the junction of the Nile and Atbara. He informs us
moreover, that the sun was vertical twice in the year,,
viz. when proceeding northward he entered Ihe i 8th
degree of Taurus, and when returning he came to the
14th degree of Leo 3 but this could never be the case
with Gojam, which lies in about 10 degrees north latitude.
Again, the poet Lucan describes Meroe by two cir¬
cumstances which cannot apply to Any other than the
peninsula ol Atbara. One is, that the inhabitants
were black 3 which was the case with the Gymnoso-
prusis and first inhabitants, and which has been the
case with all the rest dowa to the Saracen conquest :
M E R
but the inhabitants of Gojam, as well as die other
Abyssinians, are fair, at least greatly different in com¬
plexion from the blacks 3 they are also long-haired,
and nobody imagined that they ever had philosophers or
science among them, which ivas eminently the case with
the ancient inhabitants of Meroe. The other circum¬
stance is, that the ebony tree grew in the island of
Meroe, which at this day grows plentifully in the pen¬
insula of Atbara, and part of the province of Kuara,
but not in Gojam, where the tree could not subsist on
account of the violent rains which take place during six
months in the year. Mr Bruce mentions another cir¬
cumstance quoted from the poet Lucan, which like¬
wise tends to prove the identity of Meroe and Atbara 3
viz. that though there are many trees in it, they afiord
no shade. This our traveller found by experience, when
returning from Abyssinia through Atbara. “ The coun-
try (says he) is flat, and has very little water. The
forests, though thick, afforded no sort of shade, the
hunters for the sake of their sport, and the Arabs for de¬
stroying the flies, having set fire to all the dry grass and
shrubs 3 which passing with great rapidity in the direc¬
tion of the wind from east to west, though it had not
time to destroy the trees, did yet wither, and occasion
every leaf that w’as upon them to fall, unless in those
spaces where villages had been, and where water was.
In such spots a number of large spreading trees remain¬
ed full of foliage 3 which, from their great height and
being cleared of underwood, continued in full verdure,
loaded with large, projecting, and exuberant branches.
But even here the pleasure that their shade afforded was
very temporary, so as to allow us no time for enjoyment.
fI he sun, so near the zenith, changed his azimuth So
rapidly, that every few minutes I was obliged to change
the carpet on which I lay, round the trunk of the tree
;to which I had fled for shelter 3 and though I lay down
to sleep perfectly screened by the trunk or branches, I
was presently awakened by the violent rays of a scorch¬
ing sun, the shade having passed beyond me. In all
other places, though we- had travelled constantly in a
forest, we never met with a tree that could shade us for
a moment, the fire having deprived them of all then-
leaves.” The heat of Atbara is excessive, the thermo¬
meter having been observed at npi0: two of Mr
Bruce’s company died of thirst, or at least of the conse¬
quences of drinking after extreme thirst. The inhabitants
live in the greatest misery, and are continually in danger
from the neighbouring Arabs, who, by destroying and
burping their corn, are able to reduce them to a starving
' condition. Notwithstanding all their disadvantages, how¬
ever, they have a manufacture of coarse cotton towels,
of a size just sufficient to go round the waist, which
pass current as money throughout the whole country.
MEROM, in Ancient Geography. The waters of
Merom, at which place Jabin and the other confederate
kings met to fight (Joshua xi. 5.), are generally sup¬
posed by the learned to be the lake Semechon, which
lies between the head of the river Jordan and the lake
Gennesareth 3 since it is agreed on all hands, that the
city Hazor, where Jabin reigned, was situated upon
this lake. But others think that the waters of Merom
or Merome were somewhere about the brook Kishon,
since there is a place of that name mentioned in the ac¬
count ot the battle against Sisera (Judg. v. 21.). And
it is more rational to think, that the confederate kings.
advanced
I 538 .]
Mcrot
Meron
M E R 539
advanced as far as the brook Kishon, and to a pass
which led into the country, to hinder Joshua from pe¬
netrating it, or even to attack him in the country
* where he himself lay encamped, than to imagine that
they waited for him in the midst of their own country ;
leaving all Galilee at his mercy, and the whole tract
from the brook Kishon to the lake Semethon.
merop£, in Fabulous History, one of the Atlan-
tides. She married Sisyphus the son of JEolus, and like
her sisters was changed into a constellation after death.
It is said that in the constellation of the Pleiades the
star of Merope appears more dim and obscure than the
rest, because she, as the poets observe, married a mor¬
tal, while her sisters married some of the gods or their
descendants.
MEROPS, in Fabulous History, a king of the island
of Cos, who married Clymene, one of the Oceanides.
He was changed into an eagle, and placed among the
constellations. Also a celebrated soothsayer of Percosus
in Troas, who foretold the death of his sons Adrastus
and Amphius, who were engaged in the Trojan war.
They slighted their father’s advice, and were killed by
Diomedes.
Merops, a genus of birds belonging to the order of
picae. See Ornithology Index.
MEROVINGIAN character, derives its name
from Meroiiee, the first king ol I ranee of that race,
which reigned 333 years, from Pharamond to Charles
Martel. This race is said by some to have termina¬
ted in Childeric III. A. D. 751. There are many
MSS. in the French libraries still extant in this cha¬
racter.
MEROZ, in Ancient Geography, a place in the
neighbourhood of the brook Kishon, whose inhabitants
refusing to come to the assistance of their brethren when
they fought with Sisera, were put under an anathema
(Judges v. 23.) “ Curse ye Meroz, says the angel of
the Lord ; curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof: be¬
cause,” &c. Some have thought that Meroz is the same
as Merus or Merom ; and this I. Calmet thinks the most
probable opinion in this matter. Others will have it,
that Meroz was a mighty man, who dwelt near the
Kishon, and not caring to come to the assistance of Ba¬
rak and Deborah, was excommunicated by the angel of
the Lord by the sound of 400 trumpets. The angel
of the Lord, according to some, was Barak, the gene¬
ral of the Lord’s army ; but according to others he
was the high priest for the time being, or a prophet.
MERSA, a town of Barbary, pleasantly situated
about 11 miles from the city of I unis, and two from
Melcha the site of ancient Carthage. The bey lias
here two country houses, one of them very costly woi k,
built by Hassan Bey surnamed the Good. Irom
these are orange gardens reaching almost to the sea-
shore ; on the edge of which is a famous well of sweet
water, esteemed the best and, lightest in the kingdom.
Close to this is a coffeehouse, whither numbers of peo¬
ple from the neighbouring places resort to diink cofiee,
and a glass of this natural luxury so peculiarly enjoyed
in the eastern countries. In the middle of the court
is a large mulberry tree, under the shade of which they
sit and smoke and play at chess 5 inhaling the corn-
refreshes this delightful spot,
by a camel with the Persian
fortable sea breeze that
The water is drawn up
wheel.
j M E R
There are the remains of an ancient port, or cothon,
(supposed to be an artificial one), built by the Cartha¬
ginians after Scipio had blocked up the old port, no-
thing but the turret or lighthouse being left.
MERS, or Merse, a county of Scotland, called also
Berwickshire. This last name it derives from the town
of Berwick, which was the head of the shire before it
fell into the hands of the English, and obtained the
appellation of Mers or March, because it was one of
the borders towards England. See Berwick, County
MERSENNE, Marin, inLatinMerscnnus, a learn¬
ed French author, born at Oyse, in the province of
Maine, anno 1588. He studied at La Fleche at the
same time with Des Cartes *, with whom he contracted
a strict friendship, which lasted till death. He after¬
wards Went to Paris, and studied at the Sorbonne •, and
in 1611 entered himself among the Minims. He became
well skilled in Hebrew, philosophy, and mathematics.
He was of a tranquil, sincere, and engaging temper j
and was universally esteemed by persons illustrious for
their birth, their dignity, and their learning. He
taught philosophy and divinity in the convent of Nevers,
and at length became superior of the convent; but
being willing to apply himself to study with more free¬
dom, he resigned all the posts he enjoyed in his order,
and travelled into Germany, Italy, and the Netherlands.
He wrote a great number of excellent works j the prin¬
cipal of which are, I. Questiones celeberrimaHn Gcncsirn.
2. Harmonicorum libri. 3. De sonorum natura, caasis,
et effectibus. 4. Cogitata physico-mathematica. 5. La
verite des Sciences. 6. Les questions inouies. He died
at Paris in 1648. He had the reputation of being one
of the best men of his age. No person was more curious
in penetrating into the secrets ot nature, and carrying
all the arts and sciences to their utmost perfection. He
was in a manner the centre of all the men of learning,
by the mutual correspondence which he managed be¬
tween them. He omitted no means to engage them to
publish their works j and the world is obliged to him
for several excellent discoveries, which, had it not been
for him, would perhaps have been lost.
MERSEY, a river of England, which runs through
the counties of Lancaster, Fork, and Chester, and
empties itself into the Irish sea at Liverpool. By means
of inland navigation, it has communication with the
rivers Dee, Ribblc, Ouse, Trent, Derwent, Severn,
Humber, Thames, Avon, &c.; which navigation, in¬
cluding its windings, extends above 500 miles, in the
counties of Lincoln, Nottingham, \ork, Lancastei,
Westmoreland, Chester, Stafford, Warwick, Leicester,
Oxford, Worcester, &c. _
Mersey Island, an island of Essex, at the mouth oi
the Coin, south of Colchester. It was seized by the
Danes in the reign of King Alfred, for their winter
quarters. It had eight parishes, now reduced to two,
viz. East and West Mersey. There was formerly a
blockhouse on the island. ^ ^
Merula, or Blackbird. See Turdus, Ornitho¬
logy//«/<?#. . • fxl
MERUS, in Ancient Geography, a mountain of the
Hither India, hanging over the city Nyssa, built by
Bacchus, and situated between the rivers Cophen and
Indus. The name, denoting the thigh, gave rise to the
f ,1.1c 0f Bacchus being inserted into Jupiter’s thigh, and
3Y2 being-
Mersa
Merus.
M E S [ 540 ] M E S
Menis being born twice 5 because in this mountain he and his
|j army are said to have been preserved, when disease
Mesopota- and pestilence raged in the plains below.
, mia- MESARAIC vessels, in the general sense, are
the same with Mesenteric.
In common use, mesaraic is more frequently applied
to the veins, and mesenteric to the arteries, of the me¬
sentery. See Anatomy.
MESCHED, a considerable town of Persia, and in
the province of Chorassan 5 fortified with several towrers,
and famous for the magnificent sepulchre of ImanRisa,
of the family of Ali, to whom the Persians pay great
devotion. It is seated on a mountain near this town,
on which are fine turquoise stones 5 in E. Long. 59. 25.
N. Lat. 37. o.
MESEMBRYANTHEMUM, Fig-Marigold,
a genus of plants belonging to the icosandria class j
and in the natural method ranking under the 13th or¬
der, Succulentce. See Botany Index.
MESENTERIC, or Mesaraic, an epithet given
to two arteries arising from the descending aorta, and
proceeding to the mesentery. See Mesentery.
MESENTERITIS, or Inflammation of the Me¬
sentery. See Medicine index.
MESENTERY, Mesenterium, (formed of
middle, and smgeii, intestine'), in anatomy, a fatty mem¬
branous body, thus called as being placed in the middle
of the intestines, which it connects to one another.
See Anatomy, N° 94.
MESHES of Nets, the openings or interstices be¬
tween the threads.
MESN, or Mesne, a term in law, signifying him
who is lord of a manor, and so hath tenants holding of
him ; yet he himself holds of a superior lord.
The word is properly derived from inaisne, quasi
minor natu ; because his tenure is derived from ano¬
ther, from whom he holds.
Mesn also denotes a writ, which lieth where there
is lord mesn and tenant; and the tenant is distrained
for services due from the mesn to the superior lord.
This is in the nature of a writ of right; and in this
case the tenant shall have judgment to be acquitted or
indemnified by the mesne lord ; and if he makes de¬
fault therein, or does not appear originally to the te¬
nant’s writ, he shall be forejudged of his mesnalty, and
the tenant shall hold immediately of the lord paramount
himself.
MESOCHRI, were musicians among the ancients,
who presided in concerts, and by beating a wooden
desk regularly with their feet, directed the measure of
the music. For the purpose of beating time, they wore
wooden clogs, called by the ancients crupe%ia, which
occasioned the sound to be better heard.
MESOCOLON, in Anatomy, that part of the me¬
sentery, which, having reached the extremity of the
ileum, contracts and changes its names. See Ana¬
tomy, N° 94.
^ MESOLOGARITHMS, according to Kepler, are
the logarithms of the co-sines and co-tangents ; the for¬
mer of which were called by Baron Napier anti-loga¬
rithms, and the latter differentials.
MESOPOTAMIA, the ancient name of the pro¬
vince of Diarbeck, in Turkey in Asia. It is situated
between the rivers Euphrates and Tigris $ having As¬
syria on the east, Armenia on the north, Syria on the
west, and Arabia Deserta with Babylonia on the south.
The Hebrews called it Padan-aram, (Gen. xxviii. 2.
See.) and Aram Naharaim (title of Psalm lx.) or Aram
of the two rivers, because it was first peopled by Aram
father of the Syrians, and is situated between the two
rivers already mentioned. This country is much cele¬
brated in Scripture, as being the first dwelling of men
both before and after the deluge j and because it gave
birth to Phaleg, Heber, Terah, Abraham, Nahor, Sa¬
rah, Rebekah, Rachel, Leah, and to the sons of Jacob.
Babylon was in the ancient Mesopotamia, till, by vast
labour and industry, the two rivers of the Tigris and
Euphrates were united into one channel. The plains
of Shinar were in the same country. Often they gave
it the name of Mesopotamia (Heut. xxiii. 4. &c.) and
sometimes that of Syria (Hosea xii. 12.). Balaam
son of Beor was of Mesopotamia, Heut. xxiii. 4. Chu-
shan-rishathaim king of Mesopotamia kept the He¬
brews in subjection some time after the death of Jo¬
shua, Judg. iii. 8.
MESOPTERY GIUS, a term applied to such fishes
as have only one back-fin, which is situated in the
middle of the back.
MESPILUS, the Medlar, a genus of plants be¬
longing to the icosandria class} and in the natural me¬
thod ranking under the 36th order, Pomaccee. See
Botany Index.
MESS, in a military sense, implies a number of sol¬
diers, who, by laying away a certain proportion of their
pay towards provisions, mess together : six or eight is
generally the number of each mess. Experience proves,
that nothing contributes more to the health of a sol¬
dier, than a regular and well chosen diet, and his be¬
ing obliged every day to boil the pot : it corrects drun¬
kenness, and in a great measure prevents gaming, and
thereby desertion.
MESSALINA, Valeria, a daughter of Messala
Barbatus. She married the emperor Claudius, and
disgraced herself by her cruelties and incontinence.
Her husband’s palace was not the only seat of her las¬
civiousness, but she prostituted herself in the public
streets, and few men there were at Rome who could
not boast of having enjoyed the favours of the impure
Messalina. Her extravagancies at last irritated her
husband, who commanded her to appear and answer
all the accusations which W'ere brought against her:
upon which she attempted to desti’oy herself; and when
her courage failed, one of the tribunes who had been
sent to her despatched her with his sword. It is in
speaking of her debaucheries and lewdness that Juvenal
says,
Pt lassata viris, nccdum satiata, recessit.
Tier name has become a common appellation to denote
a woman of shameless and inordinate lust.
MESSANA, in Ancient Geography, the first town
of Sicily on crossing over from Italy, situated on the
strait now called the Faro, (Italicus). Anciently call¬
ed Zancle, according to Hiodorus Siculus, from King
Zanclus; or, according to others, from the Sicilian
term Zanclon, denoting a sickle, alluding to the cur-
vity of the coast j a name appropriated by the poets",
and hence Zanclcei, the people, (Herodotus, Pausanias).
Mesopot
mia
, u
Messan
M E S [ 541 ] ME S'
Vi ma tlie other name Messana is from the Messenii of Pelo-
| il ponnesus, (Strabo). Thucydides ascribes its origin to
y, aia. Anaxilas the Messenian, tyrant of Rhegium, who re-
^ ceived all comers, calling the town after the name of
his country. The Greeks always call it Messene; the
Romans Messena constantly, to distinguish it from
Messene of Peloponnesus. Now Messina, lately ruin¬
ed by earthquakes.
MESSENA, or Messene, an inland town, and
the capital of Messenia, a country of Peloponnesus ;
erroneously placed by Ptolemy on the coast. It wras
built by Epaminondas, who recalled all the Messenian
exiles, and gave the town the name of Messene. A place
vying in point of strength and situation with Corinth,
according to Strabo; and therefore Demetrius Phalereus
advised Philip, father of Perseus, that if he wanted to
have Peloponnesus in his powrer, he should make himself
master of these two towns, as thus he would have the
ox by both horns.
MESSENGERS, are certain officers chiefly em¬
ployed under the direction of the secretaries of state,
and always in readiness to be sent with all kinds of
despatches foreign and domestic. By virtue of the se¬
cretaries warrants, they also take up persons for high
treason, or other offences against the state. The pri¬
soners they apprehend are usually kept at their own
houses, for each of which they are allowed 6s. 8d. per
day by the government: and when they are sent
abroad, they have a stated allowance for their journey,
viz. 30I. for going to Paris, Edinburgh, or Dublin ;
25I. for going to Holland ; and to other places in the
same proportion; part of which money is advanced
for the expence of their journey. 1 heir standing
salary is 45I. per annum ; and their posts, it purchased,
are esteemed worth 300I. But these sums have now
probably been increased. The messengexs wait 20 at
a time, monthly, and are distributed as follows, viz.
four at court, five at one secretary’s office, five at ano¬
ther, two at the third for North Britain, thi*ee at the
council office, and one at the lord chamberlain’s of the
household.
Messengers, in Scotland. See Law, Part III.
Messengers of the Exchequer, are four officers who
attend the exchequer, in the nature of pursuivants, and
cai’ry the lord treasurer’s letters, precepts, &c.
Messenger of the Press, a person, who, by order
of the court, searches printing-houses, booksellers shops,
&c. in order to discover the printers oi’ publishei's of
seditious books, pamphlets, &c.
MESSENIA, a country in the south of Peloponnesus,
mostly maritime, situated between Elea to the west,
and Laconia to the east. Anciently a part of^Laconia
under Menelaus, and called Messene by Homer ; inter¬
preted by the scholiast, Messencea Pegio. Messenit, the
people, reduced to a state of slavei’y and subjection by
the Spartans ; Messenius, the epithet.
This country is famous in history, on account or
the resistance made by the Messenians against the
Spai’tans, and the exploits of their hero Aristomenes.
The first hostilities commenced about the year 652
B. C. on what occasion is uncertain. Though the
Messenians were inferior in the knowledge of the art
of war to the Spartans; yet, by keeping for some
time on the defensive, they improved so much, that
hi three years time they found themselves in a capa-
city of giving battle to their enemies- in the open field ; Messenia>
nor did they appear to be in any degi’ee inferior either v
in courage or conduct: the war was therefore pi’otracted,
with various success, on both sides. At last, both
consulted the oracle at Delphi ; and received for
answer, “ that whoever should first dedicate 100 tripods
in the temple of Jupiter at Ithome, a strong hold of
the Messenians, should be masters of the country.”
The inhabitants of Messenia, on hearing this, having
no money to make the tripods of brass, fell to cutting
them out in wood ; but before this could be accomplish¬
ed, a Spartan having got into the city by stratagem,
dedicated 100 little tripods of clay: which thi-ew the
Messenians into such despair, that they at last submit¬
ted to the Spartans.
The new subjects of Sparta were treated with the
utmost barbarity by these cruel tyrants : so that a new
war commenced under Aristomenes, a man of uncon¬
querable valour, and enthusiastically fond of liberty.
He perceived that the Argives and Arcadians, who
were called the allies of the Lacedaemonians, adhered
to them only through fear of their power; but that in
reality they hated them, and wished to revenge the in¬
juries they had done them. To these Aristomenes ap¬
plied ; and receiving an answer conformable to his
wishes, he engaged his countrymen unanimously to take
up arms. About a year after the revolt began, and
befox*e either party had received any auxiliaries, the
Spartans and Messenians met at a village called Tierce,
where an obstinate engagement ensued. Aristomenes
was conceived to have performed more than mortal
achievements: in gratitude therefore, respect being
also had to his royal descent, his countrymen un¬
animously saluted him king; which title he modestly
waved, alleging, that he took up arms to set them
free, and not to make himself great; he consented,
however, to accept the title of general, with a power
of doing whatsoever he thought requisite for the
service of the public. Knowing well the superstition
of the age in which he lived, he resolved to intimidate
the Spartans, by showing them what he w7as sui’e they
would take for an ill omen. Disguising himself thei*e-
fox-e, he went privately to the city, where, in the night,
he hung up a shield on the wall of the temple of
Minerva, with this inscription : Aristomenes dedicates
this, out of the spoils of the Spartans, to the goddess. It
was easily perceived that this war would be both long
and bloody: the Lacedaemonians therefore sent deputies
to Delphi, to inquire of the oracle conceraing its event:
the answer they received was, I hat it behoved the
Spartans to seek a leader from Athens. The Athenians
naturally envious of the Spartans, gi’anted their x'equest
indeed, but in such a manner as manifested their spite ;
for they sent them for a general I yrtteus, a schoolmaster
and poet, lam^ oi one foot, and who was suspected to
be a little out of his wits. But here their skill failed
them ; for this captain, notwithstanding his despicable
appearance, pi'oved of great consequence to Sparta,
teaching them how to use good, and how to bear up
under ill fortune.
In the mean time, Aristomenes had drawn together
a mighty army, the Eleans, Argives, Sicyonians, and
Arcadians, having sent troops to his assistance ; the
Spartans in this, as in the former war, having no ally
but Corinth. The Spartan kings, according to; the
custom
M E S [ 542 ] - M E S
M esscnia. custom of their city, no sooner took the field, than,
w—— notwithstanding their inferiority in number, they of¬
fered the enemy battle, which Aristomenes readily ac¬
cepted. It w'as long, obstinate, and bloody j but in
the end the Messenians were victorious, and the Lace¬
daemonians put to flight with a great slaughter. It
is scarce to be conceived how much the Spartans were
struck with this defeat: they grew weary of the war,
dissatisfied with their kings, diffident of their own
power, and in a word sunk into a state of general
uneasiness and wrant of spirit. It was now that the
Athenian general convinced them, that he wras ca¬
pable of fulfilling all the promises of the oracle 5 he
encouraged them by his poems, directed them by his
counsels, and recruited their broken armies with cho¬
sen men from among the Helotes. Aristomenes, on
the other hand, acted with no less prudence and vi¬
gour. He thought it not enough to restore the repu¬
tation of the Messenians, if he did not also restore
their wealth and power'. he therefore taught them to
act offensively against their enemies •, and, entering
the territories of Sparta, he took and plundered Pharae,
a considerable borough in Laconia, putting all such as
made any resistance to the sword, carrying off' at the
Same time an immense booty. This, however, was
an injury which the Spartans could not brook with
patience \ they therefore sent immediately a body of
forces to overtake the Messenians, which accordingly
they did : but Aristomenes routed these pursuers, and
continued to make a mighty slaughter of them, till
'Such time as he was disabled by having a spear thrust
in his side, which occasioned his being carried out of
the battle. His cure, which took up some time, be¬
ing finished, he resolved to carry the war even to the
gates of Sparta j and to that purpose raised a very
great army •, but, whether he found his design im¬
practicable, or was really diverted by some dream, he
gave out, that Castor and Pollux, with their sister
Helena, had appeared to him, and commanded him to
desist. A short time after this retreat, going with a
small party to make an incursion, and attempting to
take prisoners some women who wore celebrating re¬
ligious rites near Egila, a village in Laconia, those
zealous matrons fell upon him and Ins soldiers with
such fury, that they put them to flight, and took him
prisoner: however, he soon afterwards made his escape,
und rejoined his forces. In the third year of the war,
tlm Spartans with a great force entered Messenia,
whither Aristocrates king of Arcadia was come, with
a great body of troops to the assistance of his allies :
Aristomenes therefore made no difficulty of fighting
when the Spartans approached 5 but they entering
pi ivately into a negociation With Aristocrates, engaged
him with bribes and promises to betray his confederates.
When the battle began, the deceitful Arcadian repre¬
sented to the forces under his command the mighty
danger they were in, and the great difficulty there
would be of retreating into their own country, in case
the battle should be lost: he then pretended, that the
sacrifices were ominous •, and, having terrified his Ar¬
cadians into the disposition of mind fittest to serve his
purpose, he not only drew them off from both wingsj
but, in his flight, forced through the Messenian ranks,
and put them too in confusion. Aristomenes and his
<roop&, however, drew themselves into close order, that
3
they might defend themselves the best they could : and ^
indeed they had need of all their valour and skill j tor ^ y
the Lacedcemonians, who expected this event, immedi¬
ately attacked and surrounded them on all sides. For¬
tune was, on this occasion, too powerful either for the
courage or the conduct of the Messenians } so that, not¬
withstanding their utmost efforts, most of their army
were cut to pieces, and amongst them the chief of their
nobility. Aristomenes, with the poor remains of hisv
shattered forces, retired as wrell as he could ; and, per¬
ceiving that it w'as now’ impossible to maintain the war
against the Lacedaemonians upon equal terms, he ex¬
horted his countrymen to fortify Mount Era, and to
make the best dispositions possible for a long defence..
He likewise placed garrisons in I'ylus and Metlione
on the sea coasts j and to these three places he ga¬
thered all the inhabitants, leaving the rest of Mcsscuia
to the mercy of the Spartans. They, on the other
hand, looked on the war as now in a manner finished j
for which reason they divided the lands among their
citizens, and caused them to be carefully cultivated,
while they besieged Era. But Aristomenes quickly
convinced them that the war was far from being over:
he chose out of all the Messenians 300 men, with
whom he ravaged all the adjacent country: carried off
a prodigious booty j and, when Alessenia could no
longer supply the wants of his garrison, penetrated
into Laconia, and bore away corn, wine, cattle, and
whatever else was necessary to the subsistence of his
countrymen shut up in Era : so that at last the Spar¬
tans were constrained to issue a proclamation, for¬
bidding the cultivation, not only of the Messenian ter¬
ritory in their hands, but also of Laconia in its vici¬
nity j whereby they distressed themselves more than
their enemies, inducing at last a famine in Sparta it¬
self, which brought with it its usual attendant, sedi¬
tion. Here again all things had gone wrong, if the
wisdom of the poet Tyrtseus had not supported the
Spartan courage 5 nor was it without much difficulty
that he influenced them to continue the blockade of
Era, and to maintain a flying camp for the security of
the country.
Aristomenes, in spite of all these precautions, com¬
mitted terrible depredations with his small corps of
300 men. Amongst other places which he plundered,
the city of Amyclae was one j from whence he carried
not only a great quantity of riches, but also many
carriages laden with provisions. The kings of Sparta
lying with their troops in its neighbourhood, as soon
as they heard of this expedition, marched after Aristo-
mcnes with the utmost diligence j and, as the Messe¬
nians were encumbered with their booty, came up with
them before they could reach Era. In this situation of
things, Aristomenes, prompted ratlier by despair than
prudence, disposed his troops in order of battle j and,
notwithstanding they were so few, made a long and
vigorous resistance against the whole Lacedaunonian
army. At length, however, numbers prevailed: the
greatest part of the Messenians were slain on the spot j
and Aristomenes, with about 50 of his men who sur¬
vived the slaughter, were taken prisoners 5 that chief
having received so many wounds, that he was senseless
when they carried him away. The Lacedaemonians
expressed the loudest joy at the sight of this illustrious
captive j who for so many years, by his single abilities.
M E S [5
a;a had enablctl his exhausted country to defend itself
—> against the whole force of Sparta. When he was
recovered of his wounds, they decreed him and all his
fellow prisoners to be thrown together into a deep ca¬
vern, which was the common punishment of the 1owt-
est kind of offenders. This judgment was executed
with the utmost severity, excepting that Aristomenes'
had leave to put on his armour. Three days he con¬
tinued in this dismal place, lying upon and covered
over with dead bodies. The third day, he was al¬
most famished through want of food, and almost poi¬
soned with the stench of corrupted carcases, when he
heard a fox gnawing a body near him. Upon this he
uncovered his face, and perceiving the fox just by him,
he with one hand seized one of its hind legs, and with
the other defended his face, by catching hold of its
jaw when it attempted to bite him. Following as well
as he could his struggling guide, the fox at last thrust
his head into a little hole ; and Aristomenes then let¬
ting go his leg, he soon forced his way through and
opened a passage to the welcome rays of light, from
which the noble Messenian had been so long debarred.
Feeble as he wras, Aristomenes wrought himself an
outlet with his nails 5 and travelling by night with all
the expedition he could, at length arrived safe at Era,
to the great joy and amazement of his countrymen.
When this news was first blazed abroad, the Spartans
would have had it pass for a fiction 5 but Aristomenes
soon put the truth of it out of doubt, by falling on
the posts of the Corinthians, who, as allies of the Spar¬
tans, had a considerable body of troops before Era.
Most of their officers, with a multitude of private men,
he slew •, pillaged their camp j and in short, did so
much mischief, that the Spartans under the pretence
of an approaching festival, agreed to a cessation of arms
for 40 days, that they might have time to bury their
dead. On this occasion, Aristomenes for the second
time celebrated the hecatompkonia, or the sacrifice ap¬
pointed for those who had killed 100 of the enemy
with their own hands. Fie had performed the same
before and after his second battle : and he lived to do
it a third time : which must appear wonderful to the
reader, wrhen he is informed, that notwithstanding this
truce, certain Cretan archers in the service of the Spar¬
tans seized Aristomenes as he was walking without
the walls, and carried him away a prisoner. There
were nine of them in all: two of them immediately
flew writh the news to Sparta, and seven remained to
guard their prize, whom they bound, and conducted
to a lone cottage inhabited only by a widow and her
daughter. It so fell out that the young woman dreamt
the night before that she saw a lion without claws,
hound, and dragged along by wolves •, and that she
having loosed his bonds, and given him claws, he im¬
mediately tore the wolves to pieces. As soon as Ari¬
stomenes came into the cottage, and her mother, who
knew him, had told her who he was, she instantly, con¬
cluded that her dream was fulfilled } and therefore plied
the Cretans with drink, and when they were asleep,
took a poniard from one of them, cut the thongs with
which Aristomenes was bound, and then put it into his
hands. He presently verified her vision, by putting
all his guards to death; and then carried her and her
usother to Era, where, as a reward for her service,
43 ] M E S
he married the voung woman to his son Gorgus, then
about x8 years of age. e-i—v ......
\\ hen Era had held out near eleven years, it fell
into the hands of Sparta by an accident: the servant
of one Empiramus, a Spartan commander, driving
his master’s cattle to drink at the river Neda, met
frequently with the wife of a Messenian whom he
engaged in an amour. This woman gave him notice,
that her husband’s house was without the wall ; so
that he could come to it without danger, when the
good man was abroad; and she likewise gave him in¬
telligence when her husband was upon duty in the
garrison. The Spartan failed not to come at the time
appointed; but they had not been long in bed before
the husband returned, which put the house into great
confusion ; the woman, however, secured her gallant ;
and then let in her husband, whom she received in
appearance with great joy, inquiring again and again
by what excess of good fortune she was blessed with
his return. The innocent Messenian told her, that
Aristomenes being detained in his bed by a wound,
the soldiers knowing that he could not walk the
rounds, had a grant to retire to their houses, to avoid
the inclemency of the season. The Spartan no sooner
heard this, than he crept softly out of doors, and
hastened away to carry the news to his master. It so
happened, that the kings were at this time absent from
the camp, and Empiramus had the chief command
of the army. As soon as he received this information,
he ordex-ed his army to begin its march, though it
rained excessively, and there was no moon light. The
fellow guided them to the ford, and managed matters
so well that they seized all the Messenian posts: yetr
after all, they were afraid to engage; darkness, and
high wind, heavy rain, together with the dread of
Aristomenes, keeping them quiet in the places they
had seized. As soon as it tvas light the attack be¬
gan 5 and Era had been quickly taken, it only the
men had defended it } but the women fought with
such fury, and by their mingling in the fray, brought
such an accession of numbers, as made the event doubt¬
ful. Three days and two nights this desperate en¬
gagement lasted : at last, all hopes of preserving the
city being lost, Aristomenes drew oft" his wearied
troops. Early in the fourth morning, he disposed the
women and children in the centre, the Messenian youth
in the front and rear, the less able men in the main
body: himself commanded the van *, the rear-guard
was brought up by Gorgus and Mantielus, the for¬
mer the son of Aristomenes, the latter of Theocles, a
Messenian of great merit, who fell with much glory
in this attack, fighting valiantly in the cause of his
country. When all things were ready, Aristomenes
caused the last barrier to be thrown open } and, bran¬
dishing his spear, marched directly towards the Spar¬
tan troops, in order to force a passage. Empiramus,
perceiving his intent, ordered his men to open to the
right and left, and fairly gave them a passage ; so that
Aristomenes marched off in triumph, as it were, to
_A.rc<i
The Arcadians, when they heard that Era was
taken, were very desirous of succouring their old con¬
federates in this deep distress: they therefore en¬
treated their king Aristocrats to lead them into
Messenia.
M E S
[ 544 ] M E s
Hesscnia, Mcssenla. Bat he, corrupted by the Lacedaemonians,
■Messiah, persuaded them that it was too late } that the Messe-
' v ' nians were all cut oft 5 and that such a step would only
expose them to the fury of the conquerors. When
the thing appeared to be otherwise, and it was known
that Aristomenes was on the frontiers of Arcadia,
they went in crowds to carry him provisions, and to
testify their readiness to afford him and those under
his command all the assistance in their power. Ari-
stomenes desired to be heard before a general assembly;
which being accordingly convoked, he there opened
one of the boldest and best laid schemes recorded in
history j he said, that he had yet 500 undaunted
soldiers, who, at his command, would undertake any
thing} that it was very probable most of the Spar¬
tans were employed in pillaging Era, and that there¬
fore he determined to march and surprise Sparta }
which appeared so sensible, that all the assembly loud¬
ly commended his great capacity and unshaken cour¬
age. Aristocrates, however, took care to betray
him ; having, by various pretences, retarded the exe¬
cution of the project. The Arcadians, who began to
suspect him, waited for and surprised the messengers
as they came back. They took the letters from them,
and read them openly in the assembly. The purport
of them was, that they acknowledged his great kind¬
ness both now and in the battle ; and promised, that
the Lacedaemonians would be grateful. As soon as
the letters were read, the Arcadians fell to stoning
their king, frequently calling upon the Messenians to
assist them j which, however, they did not, waiting
for Aristomenes’s order •, who, far from triumphing
in this spectacle, stood still, with his eyes fixed on
the ground, which he wet with his tears, his soul
pierced with sorrow to see a crowned head so shame¬
fully and so deservedly put to death. The Arcadians
afterwards erected a monument over him, with an in¬
scription to perpetuate his infamy. As for the Mes¬
senians under the command of Gorgus and Manticlus,
they passed over into Sicily j where they founded the
city of Messene, one of the most famous in the island.
Aristomenes remained, however, in. Greece; where
he married all his daughters, except the youngest, to
persons, of great rank. A prince of Rhodes, inquiring
of the oracle at Delphi .whom he should espouse, that
his subjects might be happy under his posterity, was
directed to marx-y the daughter of the most worthy of
the Greeks; which answer was immediately under¬
stood to point at the. virgin daughter of Aristomenes,
Her therefore he demanded, and i-eeeived ; Aristome-
nes accompanying him back to his dominions, where
he formed a scheme of uniting the Lydians and Medes
against the Spartans,, x'esolving with this view to go
-into Media, and to the court of Sardis; but while he
meditated those great things, death surprised him, and
thereby freed Lacedaemon from the most formidable
enemy she ever had.
MESSIAH, a word signifying one anointed, or in¬
stalled into an office by unction. It was usual among
the Jews to anoint kings, high priests, and sometimes
.prophets, at the designation or installment of them,
tp signify emblematically the mental qualifications ne¬
cessary for dischai'ging those offices. Saul, David,
^Solomon, and Joash, kings of Judah, received the
2
royal unction. Aaron and his sons received the sacer-
dotal, and Elisha the disciple of Elijah received the'—^
prophetic unction.—The name Messiah, Anointed,
or Christ, (X^ros), was given to the kings and high
priests of the Jews. The patriarchs and prophets
are also called by the name of Messiahs, or the Lord's
anointed. See 1 Sam. xii. 3, 5. 1 Chron. xvi. 22.
Es. cv. 15.
But this name Messiah wms principally and by
way of eminence given by the Jews to their expect¬
ed great deliverer, whose coming they still vainly
wait j and is a name the Christians apply to Lesvs
Christ, in whom the prophecies relating to the Mes¬
siah were accomplished. The sum of these prophecies
is, That there should be a glorious person named
Messiah, descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
who should be born at Bethlehem, of a virgin of the
family of David, then in its decline, before the Jews
ceased to be a people, while the second temple was
standing, and about 500 years after Ezra’s time;
who, though appearing in mean circumstances, should
be introduced by a remarkable foi'erunner, whose bu¬
siness it should be to awaken the attention and ex¬
pectation of the people. That this illustrious person
called Messiah should himself be eminent for the piety,
wisdom, ami benevolence of his character, and the
miraculous works he should perform : yet that, not¬
withstanding all this, he should be. rejected and put to
death by the Jews j but should .afterwards be raised
from the dead, and exalted to a glorious throne, on
which he should through all generations continue to
rule, at the same time making intercession for sinners.
That great calamities should Tor the px-esent be brought
on the Jews for rejecting him 5 whereas the kingdom
of God should by his means be erected among the
Gentiles, and disperse itself even unto the ends ot the
earth •, wherever it came, destroying idolatry, and
establishing true religion and righteousness. In a
word, That tjhis glorious person should be x’egai'ded
by all who believed in him as a divine teacher, an
atoning sacrifice, ami a royal governor; by means ot
whom God would, make a covenant with his people,
very different from that made with Israel of old} in
consequence of which they should be restored to, and
established in, the divine favour, and fixed in a state
of perpetual happiness. See Jesus Christ, and Chris¬
tianity.
The Jew's, as was already observed, still wait for the
coming of the Messiah, being impressed with the no¬
tion of a temporal Messiah, who is to be a mighty
conqueror, and to subdue all the world. Most of the
modern rabbins, according to Buxtorf, believe that
the Messiah is already come, but that he keeps him¬
self concealed, and wrill not manifest himself because of
.the sins of the Jews. Some of the Jews, howrever, i*1
.order to reconcile those prophecies that seem to con¬
tradict each other as to the character and condition of
the Messiah, have had recourse to the hypothesis of
two Messiahs, who are yet to succeed each other ) one
in a state of humiliation and suflei’ing the other ot
glory, splendor, and pow'er. The first, they say, is
to proceed from the tribe of Ephraim, who is to
fight against Gog, and to be slain by Annillus, Zech.
xii. 10. The second is to be of the ti’ibe of Judah,
M E S
Messia ai,<^ 5incage Dswicl, who is to conquer and kill An-
>Icssin nillns, and restore the kingdom of Israel, reigning over
y*' it in the highest glory and felicity.
Jesus Christ asserts himself the Messiah. In St
John iv. 25. the Samaritan woman says to Jesus, I
know that when Messiah comes, who is called the Christ,
he will tell us all things. Jesus answered her, I that
speak to thee ani he.
There are several impostors, who have endeavoured
to pass for Messiahs, as Christ himself predicted. J.
Lent, a Dutchman, has written a history Tie Pseudo-
messiis “ Of false Messiahs.” The first he mentions
was one Barcochab, who appeared under the empire of
Adrian. The last was Rabbi Mordecai, who began to
be talked of in 1682. A little before him, viz. in
1666, appeared Sabbethai Sebi, who was taken by
the Turks, and turned Mahometan,
MESSINA, an ancient, large, handsome, and strong
city of Sicily, and in the Val di Demona, with a cita¬
del, several forts, a fine spacious harbour, and an arch¬
bishop’s see. It is seated on the sea side, no miles
east of Palermo, 260 south by east of Rome, and 180
south-east of Naples. E. Long. 15. 50. N. Lat. 38. 10.
The public buildings and the monasteries were nume-
ous and magnificent, and it contained about 60,000
nhabitants j the harbour is one of the safest in the
VIediterranean, and extremely deep j the viceroy of
Sicily resides here six months in the year; and it was
a place of great trade in silk, oil, fruit, corn, and excel¬
lent wine, especially since it was declared a free port.
This city in the beginning of the year 1783 suft’ered
most dreadfully by the earthquakes which shook great
part of Calabria and Sicily to their foundations, over¬
turned many rich and populous towns, and buried
thousands in their ruins: (see Calabria, and Earth¬
quake, Geology Index).—The following account of
Messina, as it stood before the above period, is extract¬
ed from Mr Swinburne's Travels in Sicily.
A large chain of mountains presses upon the shore,
and part of the city stands upon elevated ground. The
Vol. XIII. Part II.
M E S
mountains are many of them nobly wooded; the hills Messina,
before them finely chequered with groves and fields.v-"" ■/—-
As the town runs in a sweep along the edge of a de¬
clivity, every building of consequence is seen to advan¬
tage, while the less noble parts are hidden by the Pa-
lazzata. This is a regular ornamental range of lofty
houses, with 19 gates, answering to as many streets :
it follows the semicircular bend of the port for one
mile and five poles, and wrould have been the hand
somest line of buildings in Europe had the design been
completed j but a considerable part of the extent is
not finished, except merely in the front wall, and that,
seems to be in a very ruinous condition. Philibert
Emmanuel of Savoy, viceroy of Sicily, in 1622, began
this princely work. Before it is a broad quay, deco¬
rated with statues and fountains j ships of any burden
can moor close to the parapet in great depth of water.
At the west extremity is a small fort and a gate ; the
other end is closed by the governor’s house and the
citadel^ a modern pentagonal fortress, built on the
point where the isthmus or braccio di San Ranieiv issues
from the main land. On this slip of low' ground,
which with the Palazzata forms the circular harbour
of Messina, is placed the lighthouse (leixaretto), and
on the point the old castle of St Salvatore. The cir¬
cumference of the port is four miles: it probably owes
its formation to an earthquake, which opened an im¬
mense chasm, and then filled it with water. Near the
lighthouse is a kind of whirlpool in the sea, shown as
the Charybdis of the ancients.
The inner part of Messina is dirty, though it con¬
tains a considerable number of neat churches and large
substantial dwellings. The cathedral is Gothic, en¬
riched with Saracenic mosaics on the altars and shrines j
the front of the high altar is particularly splendid :
Gagini has embellished the pulpit and some tombs
with excellent specimens of his art.—In the treasury
of this church is preserved the palladium of Messina,
a letter from the Virgin Mary to its citizens (a).
This is the title upon which the Messinese build their
-{- 3 Z pretensions
C 545 3
(a) The story is as follows : After St Paul had made some stay at Messina (a circumstance of his travels
unnoticed by St Luke), the Messinese prevailed upon him to return to Jerusalem with an embassy of iour
persons sent by the city to the Virgin Mary. Their excellencies were graciously received by her, and brought
back a letter written with her own hand in the Hebrew tongue, which St Paul translated into Greek. jy
the irruption of the Saracens this invaluable treasure was lost, and utterly forgotten till the year 1467, when
Constantine Lascaris, a refugee Greek, found a copy of it, and turning it into Latin, made it known to the
citizens, and then to all the Catholic world. Its authenticity is now so well established at Messina, that Regna
the historian candidly acknowledges, that whoever was to confess even a doubt on the subject in that city would
^ ThkcmbuTejfisttf’is conceived in these terms Maria Virgo, Joachim filia Dei humillima Christi Jesu
crucifixi mater, ex tribu Judge, stirpe David, Messanensibus omnibus salutem, et Dei Patns Ommpotentis bene-
dictionem. Vos omnes fide magna legatos ac nuncios per publicum documentum ad nos tat-"
Hum nostrum Dei genitum Deum et hominem esse fatemini, et in ccelum post suam resui ^ cjvjtatem bene-
Pauli apostoli electi prsedicatione mediante viam veritatis agnoscentes. T™ '° . E jjj j^onas jun~
dicimus, cujus perpetuam protectricem nos esse volumus. Anno filn nostir . ... ,
daughter of Joachhu. urost «le m^God.^esus^t
rraafied, of the tribe of Juda and the faintly of David, health an consequence of a public0 de^
to all the people of Messina. Out of the abundance of your f > is both o'.d and man, and that
liberation, sent a deputation to me ; and since yo“ “k'l'iwJedge 1 5 prCaching of St Paul the apostle,
he ascended into heaven after his resurrection, as you have teamen iroin 1 f-
Messina.
M E S . , [ 546 .1 M E S
pretensions to pre-eminence over the whole islamf, nay
over the whole world 5 to its virtues and patronage
they attribute every piece of good fortune, and to their
own unworthiness all sinister events that have befallen
them. The authenticity of this epistle has been se¬
riously impugned, and of course vigorously defended by
many Sicilian divines and disputators.
There is another church in this city that deserves
particular notice, not so much on account of its archi¬
tecture or ornaments, as for its being the last refuge
of the Greek liturgy, which was once the predomi¬
nant service of the island, but gradually abolished by
different conquerors. It is dedicated to the Virgin
Mary de Grapheo, or of the Letter, which denomina¬
tion may perhaps have furnished Lascaris with the idea
of his letter. It is known at present by the name of
la Cattohca. According to the Greek canons, the en¬
trance of monastic churches was reciprocally forbidden
to each sex, and the cathedrals were the only places of
worship where a daily sacrifice was offered up by the
bishop and clergy, and where both men and women
were present at the same time, but in different parts of
the church. From this general admittance the build¬
ing acquired the title of Catholic or universal.
Messina is all paved with lava, cut into large flags
of two feet square : a material which the vicinity of
lavas renders it easy to procure, and which being very
hard resists friction better than any other.
During a series of ages, notwithstanding the various
revolutions and calamities to which it has been ex¬
posed, this city has still maintained its original situa¬
tion $ while most other cities have shifted their ground
more or less from the place where they were first
founded. But its situation enjoys advantages which
have still tempted such of its inhabitants as escaped
from the ravages of war and the desolation of earth¬
quakes to prefer it to every other spot, however de-
lightful or secure. It is of very ancient origin 5 it has
been under many different races of monarchs , and its
name has been repeatedly changed : It has been at dif¬
ferent times called 7.ancle, Mamertina, Messana. Its
first name Zancle, which in the old language of Sicily
meant “ a sickle alluding, as some authors suppose,
to the form oi the port j or, according to others, to
the fertility of the country. Allured by the advan¬
tages of its situation, the Gumseans, a commercial and
enterprising people, invaded the island and drove the
Siculi from this settlement ; they were in their turn
ovei powered by a band of Samian adventurers, who
made way for a colony of citizens of Messene, and under
these masters it changed its name to Messana. Their
government was of short duration j for in the 289th
year before Christ it was destroyed by the Mamertines,
a warlike unprincipled nation inhabiting the south part
of Bruttium. These soldiers being received into Mes-
sana on their return to Italy from Syracuse, where
they had served as mercenaries in the army of Aga-
thocles, took an opportunity of massacring the inha¬
bitants and usurping their possessions. The city was
now called Mamertina ; and, in order to support them¬
selves against the resentment of the Sicilian powers,
the Mamertines implored the protection of the Ro¬
mans, who, eager to extend their dominion beyond
the limits of Italy, and jealous of the growing power
of Carthage, made no scruple to succour these assas¬
sins with a consular army. This step brought on the
first Punic war. The Mamertines reaped no other
fruit from the alliance but a more honourable degree
of slavery 5 for such was the real nature of their con¬
nexion with Rome, whatever name it might be dis¬
guised under.
Messina was, however, always distinguished by par¬
ticular attentions and favours from the senate ; and, ex¬
cepting a short period during the wars of the trium¬
virate, appears to have tasted all the sweets of Roman
prosperity, without partaking of the bitter draughts
of adversity. Its fate, in the ruin of the empire, was
similar to that of the rest of Sicily. In 829 Messina
fell into the hands of the Saracens, but obtained very
honourable terms of capitulation 5 for half the city
was left to the Christians, where they were to be go¬
verned by their own laws, and profess their own reli¬
gion undisturbed. In the other resided the bey of
one of the five provinces into which the Arabian con¬
querors had divided the island. Notwithstanding this
indulgence, Messina was the first to cast oft’ the yoke
in 1037, when George Maniaces landed an army of
Greeks and Normans on the shore of the Faro. It af¬
terwards held out against the whole Mussulman force,
till the feeble state of a disti'acted empire shut out all
hopes of assistance from Constantinople. This unfor¬
tunate city then opened its gates to the army of the
caliph, and felt very severely the weight of his resent¬
ment, but it did not long groan under the yoke j for
in less than 20 years Roger the Norman took it by
surprise, and delivered it from Mahometan oppression.
During the crusade our Richard Cceur de Lion and
Philip Augustus king of France wintered here in their
way to Palestine •, a sojourn marked by continual quar¬
rels, conflagration, and bloodshed. The Messinese
were particularly tardy in entering into the national
conspiracy of 1282, but afterwards exceeded the rest
of the insurgents in deeds of cruelty : This, and the
importance of their situation, singled them out for the
first objects of Charles’s vengeance. He invested their
city, very closely, and declared so openly his determi¬
nation to refuse all terms whatever to the besieged,
that they saw no hopes of safety but in an obstinate
defence. Their courage, perseverance, and sufferings,
were excessive ; at length their strength and resources
began to fail rapidly, and every circumstance seemed
to denounce their speedy destruction, when Roger
Lauria appeared off the harbour with the Arragonian
fleet, forced the king to retire with precipitation across
the
In the 4 2d year ot my
the 1st'of thp3'n!r’ r'' <Jn an<fal]1 y°uJ aity» am* agree to become your protectress. ]
Not 1 11"dict,0,i’ t,le 3d da? °f a"d the 27th of the moon, at Jerusalem.” ’ '
aware that Deni?Z T GT'^T'-0111 blUn,d“S T tbT dates’ let !t »»«<» to observe, that Lascaris was n<
Bences at our SaviL’s'birt’h” 6‘ ‘ Ce“tU'7’ WSS lhe ^ lvho “ade ^ °f the ‘hat con
M E S
the straits, and in his sight defeated and destroyed his
naval armament. Robert, grandson of Charles I. also
made a fruitless attack 5 but in the disturbed reign of
Frederic III. Messina was delivered up to Louis king
of Naples and his consort Queen Joan, who entered it
in triumph. In a few years it returned to its former
possessors. The year 1672 was remarkable for the re¬
volt of the Messinese.—They threw off the Spanish
yoke, and swore allegiance to Louis XIV. king of
France. They were for some time vigorously assisted
by the French j but before the Spaniards had gained
the least advantage to excite any hopes of recovering
so valuable a possession, Louis found himself necessi¬
tated from motives of political interest to desert his
new subjects, and leave them to the mercy of their old
incensed masters. The horror of being thus abandon¬
ed, and the chastisement indicted by Spain, broke the
fierce spii'it of the Messinese j they were still stunned
with the remembrance and effects of this blow, when
the plague in 1743 was introduced from the Levant,
and swept away more than half the inhabitants. From
this chain of calamities, the opulence, trade, and po¬
pulation of Messina, have been gradually sinking j and
unless very favourable circumstances happen, will every
year fall lower. The number of its inhabitants does
not now exceed 30,000.
The following particulars are added from M. Houel,
who visited this city since the late earthquakes, which
completed its destruction.
On the front of the cathedral there is a square,
which, though not regular, is far from being mean.
This was not the largest square in Messina before its
overthrow j but it was the most elegant, the most
splendidly adorned, and the best frequented. There
stands in this square an equestrian statue of Charles II.
of Spain, in bronze, which has been spared by the
earthquake. It stands on a marble pedestal, in the
middle of the square. Opposite to this statue is an
elegant marble fountain, ornamented with a variety of
figures, representing men and other animals, all of
them spouting out water in great abundance; which
used, in summer, to spread an agreeable and refresh¬
ing coolness over the square, that induced company to
assemble here. Seven streets terminated here. The
cathedral forms a part of the square. It is dedicated
to the blessed Virgin j the occasion of which has been
already mentioned.
There is an anniversary feast celebrated in Messina,
which is called the feast of the Letter. A lock oi the
Virgin’s hair, which she sent to the Messenians at the
same time with the letter, is carried through the city
in procession in a crystal vessel. She made also a pre¬
sent of her picture to the Messenian deputies. It is
placed over the tabernacle. None but the cartons of
the cathedral are permitted to touch, or take up on
their shoulders, the silver shrine in which the crystal
vessel with the Virgin’s hair is deposited. Eight of
those canons, with mitres on their heads, bear this
shrine in the procession. The canopy suspended over
it is supported by six senators in their robes. The
picture and the hair are shown to strangers. This pro¬
cession, and the other religious ceremonies of this festi¬
val, are followed by horse races. The spirits of the
people being already elevated by their religious exer¬
cises, they engage with amazing eagerness in these and
1 547 ]
M E S
the other diversions with which thev are accompanied : Messina,
a tumultuous joy reigns over the city ; and the evening ' — v—■■■!
concludes with illuminations and fireworks. The ships
m the harbour pay the citizens the compliment of en¬
tertaining them with a discharge of their guns on the
occasion.
Through a square called the Square of the Great
Hospital, runs a large and impetuous torrent, the Porto
delle Legm. It is precipitated from those lofty moun¬
tains which overlook this city on the south side. The
channel which it has cut out for itself is at times en¬
tirely full. It would, on such occasions, overflow the
square and other parts of the city, were it not con¬
fined by walls which have been built on both sides to
prevent such accidents.—Another stream of a similar
origin, called the Torrent of La Bocetta, runs through
another part of the city, it is also confined within walls
to prevent it from overflowing.
The Square of St John of Malta is one of the largest
in Messina. In the middle of this square is a fine
marble fountain, ornamented with a variety of scul-
tured figures and jets d’eau. Beside the fountain there
used to stand a large reservoir for horses to drink
out of.
In the time of the annual festivals, there used to be
exhibited on the water of the reservoir a galley, or ra¬
ther a fictitious representation of a galley, with gal¬
ley-slaves, soldiers, officers, and a commander on board,
all in arms, and the galley properly equipped as a ship
of war. This galley was decorated with great art,
and by night the masts, and every other suitable part,
were hung with lamps, which illuminated it in a very
splendid manner. Every thing around was so artifi¬
cially disposed, that when the fire-works were played
off, the spectator was led to think, though he per¬
ceived only one galley, that the noise which he heard
was produced by a naval combat j and that the other
ships were concealed from his view by the smoke oc¬
casioned by the guns and firewrorks. This, wrhen
properly conducted, was a noble spectacle. The se¬
nate repaired thither from the cathedral, attended with
a guard and a numerous company. In one carriage sat
six senators, the governor of the city, and sometimes
the archbishop. It was exceedingly large and drawn
by six white horses very richly harnessed. Other car¬
riages followed, with the train who attended the go¬
vernor and the senators.
Almost all festivals owe their origin to some extra¬
ordinary event, or some singular story either true or
false. It is said, that when the splendor with which the
feast of the Assumption de la Bara was celebrated at
Messina, first began to attract foreigners to the city,
on that occasion such crowds repaired thither as to
alarm the inhabitants with the fears of a famine : But
one year, when the number of strangers was greater
than usual at the time of this festival, the magistrates
were very much at a loss how to supply them with
provisions ; and at length, every other resource failing,
no hopes of relief remained but from the kindness of
the Blessed Virgin. Fervent prayers were addressed
to their patroness : and next morning by day-break three
brigantines appeared entering the harbour with full
sails. They proved to be loaded with corn. It was
eagerly purchased: and the people of the city hasted
to appease their hunger. But when they came after
3 S 2 refreshing
M E S t 548 ] M E S
Messina.
refreshing themselves to pay the corn merchants their
money, neither ships nor merchants could be found.
After their first emotions of surprise had subsided,
they naturally concluded that such a seasonable sup¬
ply must undoubtedly be a present from the Virgin,
who, being pleased with the zeal of her Messenian vo¬
taries, and desirous to prevent the concourse of stran¬
gers who attended the festival from diminishing, had
interposed in this miraculous manner to save them from
the distresses of famine. A new festival was celebrated
in gratitude to their generous benefactress. Three
small vessels of silver were made, and dedicated to the
Virgin in memory of the event •, and these are at pre¬
sent used as lamps in the cathedral. The senate like¬
wise decreed, that the clergy should pay annually a
small tax, to be laid out in constructing a small gal¬
ley to swim on the fountain, and in defraying the ex-
pences of the fireworks. The profits of the clergy are
so considerable on the occasion of the festival, that they
may be supposed to pay the tax with great cheerful-
iiess.
In Messina, as in the other cities of Sicily, the wo¬
men wrap themselves in a large black mantle above the
rest of their dress. The stuffs are richer or plainer ac¬
cording to rank and circumstances. People who are
not rich enough to have fine clothes of their own,
hire them at so much an hour. There are women
who make a livelihood by lending out their clothes.
The mantle covers the wearer from head to foot.—
It reduces the old and the young, the ill-shaped and
the handsome, pretty much to an equality in point of
appearance. This must naturally appear very unfa¬
vourable to the influence of beauty. But yet, on pro¬
per occasions, at church or in a public walk, the la¬
dies of Messina find means to open and adjust the man¬
tle so as to display all their beauties of face and shape,
and to attract the affections of lovers, perhaps more
powerfully than if their dress were suited to display
their charms in a more ostentatious manner.
Between Messina and the tower of Faro there stands
a small church called the Madona of the Grotto. It
was anciently a temple of a round structure, and orna¬
mented with columns like the temple of the sun at
Rome. Modern columns now supply the place that
was occupied by the ancient. There are large niches
in the rock adjoining to the temple, which are thought
to be of equal antiquity. These contain no sculptur¬
ed figures 5 but in Pagan times they might possibly
contain some.
Messina being situated between Mount JEtna and
the gulf of Charybdis, and being likewise at no great
distance from the volcanoes of Lipari and Stromboli,
must have been in all ages liable to suffer by earth¬
quakes. Such terrible events, however, appear to
have been more unfrequent in ancient than in modern
times, and have actually alarmed the present age oftener
than any other. In the year 1693 a fourth part of the
cities of Sicily was destroyed by an earthquake. Mes¬
sina merely felt the shock 5 all its buildings, however,
suffered. In the year 1742 it suffered another equal¬
ly violent. A plague which followed in 1743 retard¬
ed the repairs necessary after the earthquake. In the
year 1780 this city continued, for more than six months,
to suffer from new earthquakes.
M ere the state of the elements, previous to these
dreadful events, carefully examined, it might jerhaps
be found to undergo certain changes which might be
considex*ed as prognosticating them.
The autumn of the year 1782 was unusually cold
and rainy. Fahrenheit’s thermometer was often as
low as 56 degrees. The .succeeding winter was dry;
and the mercury never fell under 25 degrees : And,
what is uncommon in that season, storms were now
and then observed to arise from the west. The pilots
in the channel observed that the tides no longer rose
at the usual periods, and the gulf of Charybdis raged
with extraordinary fury.
On the 5th of February 1783, the air was heavy
and calm; the sky obscured with thick clouds, and the
atmosphere seemingly all in a flame. About half af¬
ter twelve at noon, the earth began to shake with a
dreadful noise. The shocks continually increased, and
became at length so violent as to open the ground, and
to overturn in two or three minutes a considerable
part of the buildings.
A long white cloud appeared to the north-west;
and soon after another, veiy dark, in the same quar¬
ter of the heavens. The latter in a moment spread
over the whole horizon, and deluged the city with rain
and hail, accompanied with dreadful claps of thunder.
The inhabitants fled in the utmost terror to the fields
and the ships in the harbour.
From mid-day till five in the afternoon the earth¬
quake continued almost without interruption. The
shocks then became somewhat less frequent. The cries
of the dying 5 the shrieks of those who were half bu¬
ried under the ruins } the wild, terror with which others,
who were still able, attempted to make their escape j
the despair of fathers, mothers, and husbands, bereft
of those who were dearest to them ; then formed alto¬
gether a scene of horror, such as can but seldom oc¬
cur in the history of the calamities of the human race.
Amid that awful scene, instances of the most heroic
courage and the most generous affection were display¬
ed. Mothers, regardless of their own safety, rushed
into every danger to snatch their children from death.
Conjugal and filial affection prompted deeds not less
desperate and heroic. But no sooner did the earth¬
quake cease, than the poor wretches who had escaped
began to feel the influence of very different passions.
When they returned to visit the ruins, to seek out the
situation of their fallen dwellings, to inquire into the
fate of their families, to procure food and collect some
remains of their former fortunes—such as found their
circumstances the most wretched became suddenly ani¬
mated with rage, which nothing but wild despair could
inspire. The distinction of ranks, and the order of so¬
ciety were disregarded, and property eagerly violated.
Murder, rapine, and lawless robbery, reigned among
the smoking ruins.
About one in the morning another shock of the
earthquake was felt, which overturned most of the
houses that were still standing. Most of those whom
want, or avarice, or humanity, still detained among the
ruins, now shared the same fate with their friends
whom the former shocks had buried under them.
The succeeding day scarce alleviated the distress of
this dismal night: the few wretches who still surviv¬
ed found themselves destitute of every necessary. At
length order was in some degree re-established •, and in
two
M E s £ 549 ] M E T
two days after every person was supplied at least with
some small portion of the necessaries for subsistence.
None yet thought of returning to take up their
abode among the ruins. The common people fixed
their residence on the plain of Porto Salvo, near the
town of Salleo. The nobles, magistrates, and mer¬
chants, took up their abode on another plain, on the
other part of the stream Porto de Legno ; the soldiers
at Terra Nuova.
Some violent shocks which were again felt on the
7th of February and the 28th of March completed the
destruction of the city. The corn magazines, how¬
ever, escaped without damage : and the public ovens
and the aqueducts were but little injured. From these
facts it may perhaps be inferred, that had not the houses
of Messina been, in general, hastily built at the first,
and afterwards carelessly repaired, fewer of them would
have been overthrown by the eai'thquake.
The neighbouring villages having suffered but little,
were the first to relieve the remaining inhabitants of
Messina in their distress. Maltese gallies for some days
supplied necessaries to the poor and the sick with a
generosity which merits the highest praise. They
brought surgeons and whatever was needful for the
cure of the wounded. The supplies sent by the king
of France were refused, for what reason we know not.
What money was needed for the support of the peo¬
ple was taken from the treasury of the city of Messina }
for what the king of Naples sent was seized and spent
by the garrison.
It is said that not more than 800 or 900 persons
perished by this earthquake. The sea during that
convulsion of the land was slightly agitated in the har¬
bour. Farther out the sea was more violently agitat¬
ed ; but none of the ships in the harbour were dashed
to pieces. The waters rose so high as to be injurious
in a very considerable degree to Pharo, as well as along
the coast of Scylla and Bagnara.
This earthquake was not of a momentary duration,
like that by which Lisbon was destroyed, and like
many others j for more than sixty days from the 5th
of February to the beginning of April, Messina con¬
tinued to be shaken, and in that time felt more than
200 shocks 5 and even after that period the alarm was
again and again renewed. Not only the magistrates,
the soldiers and the people, but the priests likewise,
with their tabernacle and altar, retired to the barracks.
The nuns, too, deserted their cloisters, and sought a re¬
treat without the walls. Some of them confined them¬
selves to the gaxxlens of their convents j others mixed
indiscriminately with the people.
The chief damage which the public buildings with¬
in the city suffered was the fall 01 the dome ol the
church of Purgatory. Only the walls were left stand¬
ing ; and even these had suffered considerably. One halt
of the steeple of the cathedral was beaten to the ground.
The magazines of Porto Franco were likewise very
much shattered. The fort of St Salvator, being built
on an artificial foundation, the side next the sea is there
fallen down j but on the other side, where it is founded
on a rock, it has stood unmoved by all the shocks of the
earthquake.
On the 5th of February, when the earthquake was
more violent than at any time afterwards, a strong
smell of sulphur was felt. The earth was affected
somewhat in the same way as if it had been borne up- Messina
on a fluid j and seemed to reel with the shocks much j|
like a ship tossed with the waves. This tremulous Metagit-
motion was felt all over Sicily but towards Pharo
it became rveaker. On the following days the sky
was cloudy; the mountains of Sicily and the shores of
Calabria continued covered with a thick fog like smoke.
North and north-east winds raged with the most violent
impetuosity.
The disastrous year of this earthquake w’as scarce
concluded, the chasms which it had opened in the
ground were still yawning, and the poor inhabitants of
the adjacent country still trembled with terror, when
the elements again renewed their fury to ravage this
miserable land.
On Tuesday the 6th of January 1784, about sunrise,
the wind began to blow softly from the north-east.
The sea gradually swelled, rose beyond its bed with
rapid impetuosity, overflowed the quay of Messina, and
lashed with its billows the ruins of the Palazzata. It
loosened and displaced many of the stones of the mole,
spread over the whole street, and attacked the pedestals
of the statues which had been spared by the earthquake,
and still stood firm among the ruins. The same furious
wind which swelled the sea in so extraordinary a man¬
ner, ravaged the whole coast from Messina all the way
to Syracuse.
MESSUAGE, Messuagium, in Lciv, a dwelling-
house, with some land adjoining assigned lor its use. By
the name of messuage may a garden, shop, mill, cottage,
chamber,cellar, or the like, pass.—In Scotland, messuage
denotes what is called in England the manor-house, viz.
the principal dwelling-house within any barony.
MESOPORPHYRON, a name given by the
Greeks to the Roman laticlave ; because that garment
being edged on each side, where it opened before, with
purple, appeared when closed with two purple stripes
down the middle. The same term was also applied to
the angttsticlave.
META, in the Roman circus, was a pile of stones
of a pyramidical form, intended as a boundary ol the
stadium, or chariot course.—When the met a was passed
the seventh time, the race was concluded. The greatest
art and management were required in avoiding the
meta, and yet going as near it as possible. 11 they
went too near, they were in the greatest danger of
breaking the chariot to pieces j and if they took too
large a circuit in the turn, they gave their rivals an
opportunity of getting within them, besides losing a
great deal of ground. The boundary of the Grecian
stadium, or course, wras called rsyo?, n^oc, v&PP* an<^
u-^tt ; to which last name Horace probably al¬
ludes, in calling death “ ultima linea rerum ”
The metce at Rome were first of wood, afterwards of
stone ; but the emperor Claudius made them cf gold,
or rather gilded them. In the Roman circus there
were two metce, one at the entrance of the course and
and the other at the end of it. An egg was placed
upon the top of the metce.
METACARPUS, or Metacarpjum, (from ^sr«,
behind, and hand), m Anatomy, that part of the
hand between the wrist and the fingers. See Anato¬
my N° 55.
METAGITNION, the second month of the Athe¬
nian year, answering to the latter part of our July ann
MET [ 550 ] MET
Metagit- the beginning of August, ami so called from metagitnia,
nion a festival in honour of Apollo, which was kept in it.
II The Boeotians called this month panemtis, and the Sy-
Metaphor.
» ■ ^ racusans, carnius.
METAL, in Natural History, is a substance which
is distinguished from others by its ductility, malleabili¬
ty, tenacity, opacity, &c. for an account of which, see
Chemistry.
Metal, in Heraldry. There are two metals used m
heraldry, by way of colours, viz. gold and silver, in
blazon called or and argent.
In the common painting of arms these metals are re¬
presented by white and yellow, which are the natural
colours of those metals. In engraving, gold is express¬
ed by dotting the coat, &c. all over ; and silver, by
leaving it quite blank.
It is a general rule in heraldry, never to place metal
upon metal, or colour upon colour: so that if the held
be of one of the metals, the bearing must be of some
colour j and if the field be of any colour, the bearing
must be one of the metals.
METALEPSIS. See Oratory, N° 59.
METALLISATION, is defined to be the natural
process by which metals are formed in the bowels of the
earth.
METALLURGY, in a more general sense, com¬
prehends the whole art of working metals, frem the
state of ore to the utensil; and in this sense, essaying,
smelting, refining, parting, smithery, gilding, &c. are
only branches of metallurgy. But in a more limited
sense it includes only the operations which are followed
in separating metals from their ores. For an account
of these processes, see Ores, Reduction of; and for the
practical branches, see Gilding, Parting, Purify¬
ing, Refining, Smithery.
METAMORPHOSIS, in general, denotes the
changing of something into a different form ; in which
sense it includes the transformation of insects, as well
as the mythological changes related by the ancient
,. poets.
Mythological metamorphoses were held to be of two
kinds, apparent and real: thus, that of Jupiter into a
bull, was only apparent; whereas that of Lycaon into
a wolf, was supposed to be real. '
Most of the ancient metamorphoses include some al-
• legorical meaning, relating either to physics or morali¬
ty , some authors are even of opinion that a great part
ol the ancient philosophy is couched under them j and
Lord Bacon and Dr Hooke have attempted to unriddle
several of them.
METAPHOR, in Rhetoric. See Oratory, N° 54.
Metaphor and Allegory, in poetry A metaphor
differs from a simile, in form only, not in substance : in
a simile the two subjects are kept distinct in the expres¬
sion, as well as in the thought; in a metaphor, the
two subjects are kept distinct in the thought only, not
in the expression. A hero resembles a lion, and upon
that resemblance many similies have been raised by Ho¬
mer and other poets. But instead of resembling a lion,
let us take the aid of the imagination, and feign or fi¬
gure the hero to be a lion j by that variation the simile
is converted into a metaphor 5 which is carried on by
describing all the qualities of a lion that resemble those
of the hero. The fundamental pleasure here, that of
resemblance, belongs to the thought. An additional
3
pleasure arises from the expression ; the poet, by figu- ;ytta
ring his hero to be a lion, goes on to describe the lionJ
in appearance, but in reality the hero ; and his descrip¬
tion is peculiarly beautiful, by expressing the virtues
and qualities of the hero in new terms, which, properly
speaking, belong not to him, but to the lion. This will
better be understood by examples. A family connected
with a common parent, resembles a tree, the trunk and
branches of which are connected with a common root:
but let us suppose, that a family is figured, not barely
to be like a tree, but to be a tree •, and then the simile
will be converted into a metaphor, in the following
manner :
Edward’s sev’n sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were sev’n fair branches, springing from one root;
Some of these branches by the dest’nies cut:
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Glo’ster,
One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
Is hack’d down, and his summer leaves all faded,
By Envy’s hand and Murder’s bloody axe.
Richard II. act i. sc. 3.
Figuring human life to be a voyage at sea.
There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to Fortune :
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat:
And wre must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures. Julius Ccesar, act iv. sc. 5.
Figuring glory and honour to be a garland of flowers:
Hotspur. — — ——■■ ■ Wou’d to heav’n,
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine !
Pr.Henry. I’ll make it greater ei’e I part from thee j
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I’ll crop, to make a garland for my head.
First Part of Henry IV. act v. sc. 9.
I iguring a man who hath acquired great reputation
and honour to be a tree full of fruit:
       Oh, boys, this story
The world may read in me j my body’s mark’d
With Roman swords 5 and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cymbeline lov’d me j
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off; then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But in one night,
A storm or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves 5
And left me bare to wither.
Cymbeline, act iii. sc. 3.
“ Blest be thy soul, thou king of shells, said Swaran
of the dark-brown shield. In peace, thou art the gale
of springs in war, the mountain-storm. Take now my
hand in friendship, thou noble king of Morven.”
FingaL
“ Thou dwellest in the soul of Malvina, son of mighty
Ossian. My sighs arise with the beam of the east: my
tears descend with the drops of night. I was a lovely
tree in thy presence, Oscar, with all my branches
round me ; but thy death came like a blast from the
desertj
MET [ 5
hor desert, and laid my green head low; the spring re-
—1 turned with its showers, but no leaf of mine arose.”
Frugal.
An allegory differs from a metaphor; and z. figure of
speech differs from both. A metaphor is defined above
to be an act of the imagination, figuring one thing to
be another. An allegory requires no such operation,
nor is one thing figured to be another: it consists in
choosing a subject having properties or circumstances re¬
sembling those of the principal subject: and the former
is described in such a manner as to represent the latter:
the subject thus represented is kept out of view: we
are left to discover it by reflection 5 and we are pleased
with the discovery, because it is our own work. (See
the word Allegory.)
Quintilian gives the following instance of an allegory.
O navis, referent in mare te novi
Fluctus. O quid agis ? fortiter occupa portum.
Horat. lib. ode 14.
and explains it elegantly in the following words: “ To-
tusque ille Horatii locus, quo navim pro republrca, fluc-
tuum tempestates pro bellis civilibus, portum pro pace
atque concordia, dicit.”
In a figure of speech, there is no fiction of the ima¬
gination employed, as in a metaphor \ nor a represen¬
tative subject introduced, as in an allegory. This
figure, as its name implies, regards the expression only,
not the thought; and it may be defined, the using a
word in a sense different from what is proper to it.—
Thus youth, or the beginning of life, is expressed figu¬
ratively by morning of life: morning is the beginning
of the day; and in that view it is employed to signify
the beginning of any other series, life especially, the
progress of which is reckoned by days. See Figure
of Speech.
Metaphor and allegory are so much connected, that it
seemed proper to handle them together : the rules par¬
ticularly for distinguishing the good from the bad, are
common to both. We shall therefore proceed to those
rules, after adding some examples to illustrate the nature
of an allegory, which, with a view to this article, was
but slightly illustrated under its proper name.
Horace, speaking of his love to Pyrrha, which was
now extinguished, expressed himself thus :
   Me tabula sacer
Votiva paries indicat uvida
Suspendisse potenti
Vestimenta maris Deo. Carm. lib. i. ode 5*
Again :
Phoebus volehtem praelia me loqui,
Victas et urbes, increpuit, lyra
Ne parva Tyrrhenum per rnquor
Vela darem. Carm. lib. iv. ode 15.
Queen. Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their
loss,
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
What though the mast be now blown overboard,
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallowed in the flood !
Yet lives our pilot still. Is’t meet that he
Should lea.ve the helm, and, like a fearful lad,
5i ] MET
With tearful eyes add water to the sea,
And give more strength to that which hath too much}
While in his moan the ship splits on the rock,
W hich industry and courage might have sav’d ?
Ah, what a shame ! ah, what a'fault were this !
Third Fart of He my VI, act v. sa
Oroonoko. Ha ! thou has rous’d
The lion in his den he stalks abroad,
And the wide foi'est trembles at his roar.
I find the danger now. Oroonoko, act. iii. sc. 2.
“ My well beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful
hill. Fie fenced it, gathered out the stones thereof,
planted it with the choicest vine, built a tower in the
midst of it, and also made a wine press therein 5 he
looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought
forth wild grapes. And now, O inhabitants of Jeru¬
salem, and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt
me and' my vineyard. What could have been done
more to my vineyard, that I have not done P Where¬
fore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes,
brought it forth wild grapes ? And now go to, I will
tell you what I will do to my vineyard : I will take
away the hedge thereof, and it shall be eaten up ; and
break down the wall thereof, and it shall be trodden
down. And I will lay it waste : it shall not be pruned,
nor digged, but there shall come up briars and thorns :
I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain
upon it. For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the
house of Israel, and the men of Judah his pleasant
plant.” Isaiah v. 1.
The rules that govern metaphors and allegories are
of two kinds. The construction of these figures comes
under the first kind : the propriety or impropriety of in¬
troduction comes under the other.-^To begin with rules
of the first kind j some of which coincide with those
already given for similies j some are peculiar to meta¬
phors and allegories.
In the first place, It has been observed, that a simile
cannot be agreeable where the resemblance is either
too strong or too faint. This holds equally in meta¬
phor and allegory 5 and the reason is the same in all.
In the following instances, the resemblance is too faint
to be agreeable.
Malcolm. But there’s no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daughter’s,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust. Macbeth, act iv. sc. 44
The best way to judge of this metaphor, is to convert
it into a simile : which would be bad, because there is
scarce any resemblance between lust and a cistern, or
betwixt enormous lust and a large cistern.
Again :
He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause
Within the belt of rule. Macbeth, act v. sc. 2.
There is no resemblance between a distempered cause
and any body that can be confined within a belt.
Again:
Steep me in poverty to the very lips.
Othello, act iv. sc. 9.
Poverty
Metaphor.
M E T
-Metaphor. Poverty here must be conceit ed a fluid, which it re-
sembles not in any manner.
Speaking to Bolingbroke banished for six years :
The sullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem a soil, wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home return.
Richard II. act ii. sc. 6.
Again :
Here is a letter, lady,
And every word in it a gaping wound
Issuing life-blood.
Merchant of Venice, act. iii. sc. 3.
Tantte molts erat llomanam condere gentem.
JEneid. i. 37.
The following metaphor is strained beyond all endu¬
rance : Timur-bec, known to us by the name of Ta-
merlane the Great, writes to Bajazet emperor of the
Ottomans in the following terms :
“ Where is the monarch who dares resist us ? where
is the potentate who doth not glory in being numbered
among our attendants ? As for thee, descended from a
Turcoman sailor, since the vessel of thy unbounded
ambition hath been wreck’d in the gulf of they self-
love, it would be proper, that thou shouldst take in
the sails of thy temerity, and cast the anchor of re¬
pentance in the port of sincerity and justice, which is
the port of safety j lest the tempest of our vengeance
make thee perish in the sea of the punishment thou de-
servest.”
Such strained figures, as observed above, are not un¬
frequent in the first dawn of refinement 5 the mind in
a new enjoyment knows no bounds, and is generally
carried to excess, till taste and experience discover the
proper limits.
Secondly. Whatever resemblance subjects may have,
it is wrong to put one for another, where they bear no
mutual proportion. Upon comparing a very high to a
very low subject, the simile takes on an air of burlesque :
and the same will be the effect where the one is ima¬
gined to be the other, as in a metaphor} or made to
represent the other, as in an allegory.
Thirdly. These figures, a metaphor especially, ought
not to be crowded with many minute circumstances j
lor in that case it is scarcely possible to avoid obscu¬
rity. A metaphor above all ought to be short: it is
difficult, for any time, to support a lively image of a
thing being what we know it is not j and for that rea¬
son, a metaphor drawn out to any length, instead of
illustrating or enlivening the principal subject, becomes
disagreeable by overstraining the mind. Here Cow¬
ley is extremely licentious. Take the following in¬
stance.
Great and wise conqu’ror, who where’er
Thou com’st, dost fortify and settle there !
Who canst defend as well as get;
And never hadst one quarter beat up yet j
Now thou art in, thou ne’er will part
^ With one inch of my vanquish’d heart 5
For since thou took’st it by assault from me “i
'Tis garrison’d so strong with thoughts of thee, V
It fears no beauteous enemy. \
MET
For the same reason, however agreeable long allegories
may at first be by their novelty, they never afford any
lasting pleasure : witness the Faery Qiiee?i, which with
great power of expression, variety of images, and me¬
lody of versification, is scarce ever read a second
time.
In the fourth place. The comparison carried on in a
simile, being in a metaphor sunk by imagining the prin¬
cipal subject to be that very thing which it only re¬
sembles j an opportunity is furnished to describe it in
terms taken strictly or literally with respect to its ima¬
gined nature. This suggests another rule, That in con¬
structing a metaphor, the writer ought to make use of
such words only as are applicable literally to the ima¬
gined nature of his subject: figurative words ought care¬
fully to be avoided j for such complicated figures, in¬
stead of setting the principal subject in a strong light,
involve it in a cloud, and it is well if the reader, with¬
out rejecting by the lump, endeavour patiently to gather
the plain meaning, regardless of the figures:
A stubborn and unconquerable flame
Creeps in his veins, and drinks the streams of life.
, Lady Jane Gray, act i. sc. 1.
Copied from Ovid :
Sorbent avidoe prsecordia flammae.
Metamorpk. lib. ix. 172.
Let us analyze this expression. That a fever may be
imagined a flame, we admit: though more than one
step is necessary to come at the resemblance: a fever,
by heating the body, resembles fire j and it is no stretch
to imagine a fever to be a fire: again, by a figure of
speech, flame may be put for fire, because they are com¬
monly conjoined ; and therefore a fever may be termed
a fi°ine' now admitting a fever to be a flame, its
effects ought to be explained in words that agree lite¬
rally to a flame. This rule is not observed here} for a
flame drinks figuratively only, not properly.
King Henry to his son Prince Henry :
rlhou hid’st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart
To stab at half an hour of my frail life.
Second Part Henry IV. act iv. sc. 11.
Such faulty metaphors are pleasantly ridiculed in the
Rehearsal:
Physician. Sir, to conclude, the place you fill has
more than amply exacted the talents of a wary pilot 5
and all these threatening storms, which, like impreg¬
nate clouds, hover o’er our heads, will, when they once
are grasp’d but by the eye of reason, melt into fruitful
showers of blessings on the people.
“ Payes. Pray mark that allegory. Is not that
good ?
u Johnson. Yes, that grasping of a storm with the
eye is admirable. Act ii. sc. I«
Fifthly. The jumbling different metaphors in the
same sentence, beginning with one metaphor and end¬
ing with another, commonly called a mixt metaphor,
ought never to be indulged.
K. Henry,
[ 552 1
M£T [ 553
taplioi^ K. Henry. Will you again unknit
This churlish knot of all abhorred war,
And move in that obedient orb again,
Where you did give a fair and natural light?
First Part Henry VI. act. v. sc. I.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune j
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them.
Hamlet, act iii. sc. 2.
In the sixth place, It is unpleasant to join different
metaphors in the same period, even where they are
preserved distinct: for when the subject is imagined to
be first one thing and then another in the same period
without interval, the mind is distracted by the rapid
transition ; and when the imagination is put on such
hard duty, its images are too faint to produce any good
effect:
At regina gravi jamdudum saucia cura,
Vulnus alit venis, et caeco carpitur igni.
JEneid. iv. I.
 Est mollis flamma medullas
Interea, et taciturn vivit sub pectore vulnus.
JEneid, iv. 66.
Motum ex Metello console civicum,
Bellique causas, et vitia, et modos,
Ludumque fortunae, gravesque
Principum amicitias, et arma
Nondum expiatis uncta cruoribus,
Periculosae plenum opus alete,
Tractas, et incedis per ignes
Subpositos cineri doloso.
Ho rat. Carm. lib. ii. ode r.
In the last place, It is still worse to jumble together
metaphorical and natural expression, so as that the period
must be understood in part metaphorically, in part lite¬
rally ; for the imagination cannot follow with sufficient
ease changes so sudden and unprepared : a metaphor
begun and not carried on, hath no beauty } and in¬
stead of light there is nothing but obscurity and con¬
fusion. Instances of such incorrect composition are
without number: we shall, for a specimen, select a few
irom different authors. Speaking of Britain,
 This precious stone set in the sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall.
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands.
Richard II. act ii. sc. I,
In the first line Britain is figured to be a precious stone :
in the following line, Britain, divested of her metapho¬
rical dress, is presented to the reader in her natural ap¬
pearance.
These growing feathers pluck’d from Caesar’s wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
Julius Caesar, act i. sc. I.
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
] M E T
Pebns angustis animosus atque Metaphbf.
I ortis adpare : sapienter idem —v—
Contrahes vento nimium secundo
Turgida vela. Hor. Carm. lib. ii. ode 10.
The following is a miserable jumble of expressions,
arising from an unsteady view of the subject, between
its figurative and natural appearance :
But now from gath’ring clouds destruction pours,
Which ruins with mad rage our halcyon hours:
Mists from black jealousies the tempest form,
W hilst late divisions reinforce the storm.
Dispensary, canto iii.
To thee'' the world its present homage pays,
The harvest early, but mature the praise.
Popeh- Imitation of Horace, book ii.
Oui, sa pudeur ne’st que franche grimace,
Qu’une ombre de vertu qui garde mal la place,
Et qui s’evanouit, comme 1’on pent savoir,
Aux rayons du soleil qu’une bourse vait voir.
Moliere, DEtourdi, act iii. sc. 2.
Et son feu, de pourvA de sense et de lecture,
S’eteint a chaque pas, faut de nourriture.
Boileau, l?Art Poetique, chant, iii. 1. 319.
Dryden, in his dedication of the translation of Ju¬
venal, says, “ When thus, as I may say, before the
use of the loadstone, or knowledge of the compass, I
was sailing in a vast ocean, without other help than the
pole-star of the ancients, and the rules of the French
stage among the moderns,” &c.
“ There is a time when factions, by the vehemence
of their own fermentation, stun and disable one ano¬
ther.” Bolingbroke-.
This fault of jumbling the figure and plain expression
into one confused mass, is not less common in allegory
than in metaphor.
Take the following examples:
' ■   Heu ! quoties fidem,
Mutatosque Deos flebit, et aspera
Nigris sequora ventis
Emirabitur insolens,
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea :
Qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem
Sperat, nescius aurse
Fallacis. Horai. Carm. lib. i. ode 5.
Pour moi sur cette mer, qu’ici has nous courons,
Je songe a me pourvoir d’esquif et d’avirons,
A regler mes desires, h prevenir 1’orage,
Et sauver, s’il se peut, ma Raison du naufrage.
Boileau, epitre 3,
Ford Halifax, speaking of the ancient fabulists:
“ They (says he) wrote in signs, and spoke in para¬
bles : all their fables carry a double meaning : the story
is one, and entire 5 the characters the same throughout j
not broken or changed, and always conformable to the
nature of the creature they introduce. They never tell
you, that the dog which snapped at a shadow, lost his
troop of horse; that would be unintelligible. This is
4 A ■ his
I
Metaphor.
M E T t 554 1 MET
his (Dryden’s) new way of telling a story, and confound¬
ing the moral and the fable together.” After instan¬
cing from the .Hind and Panther, he goes on thus .
“ What relation has the hind to cur Saviour ? or what
notion have we of a panther’s bible ? If you say he
means the church, how does the church feed on lawns,
or range in the forest ? Let it be always a church, or
always a cloven-footed beast; for we cannot bear his
shifting the scene every line.”
A few words more upon allegory. Nothing gives
greater pleasure than this figure, when the representa¬
tive subject bears a strong analogy, in all its circum¬
stances, to that which is represented : but the choice is
seldom so lucky ; the analogy being generally so faint
and obscure, as to puzzle and not please. An allegory
is still more difficult in painting than in poetry : the
former can show no resemblance but what appears to
the eye 5 the latter hath many other resources for slew¬
ing the resemblance. And therefore, with respect to
what the abbe du Bos terms mixt allegorical composi¬
tions, these may do in poetry; because, in writing, the
allegory can easily be distinguished from the historical
part: no person, for example, mistakes Virgil’s Fame
for a real being. But such a mixture in a picture is in¬
tolerable ; because in a picture the objects must appear
all of the same kind, wholly real or wholly emblema¬
tical. For this reason, the history of Mary de Medicis,
in the palace of Luxembourg, painted by Rubens, is
unpleasant by a perpetual jumble of real and allegori¬
cal personages, which produce a discordance of parts,
and an obscurity upon the whole : witness, in particu¬
lar, the tablature representing the arrival of Mary de
Medicis at Marseilles •, where, together with the real
personages, the Nereids and Tritons appear sounding
their shells : such a mixture of fiction and reality in the
same group is strangely absurd. The picture of Alex¬
ander and Roxana, described by Lucian, is gay and
fanciful; but it suffers by the allegorical figures. It is
not in the wit of man to invent an allegorical represen¬
tation deviating farther from any shadow of resem¬
blance, than one exhibited by Louis XIV. anno 1664 j
in which an enormous chariot, intended to represent
that of the sun, is dragged along, surrounded with men
and women, representing the four ages of the world,
the celestial signs, the seasons, the hours, &c. a mon¬
strous composition, and yet scarcely more absurd than
Guido’s tablature of Aurora.
In an allegory, as well as in a metaphor, terms ought
to be chosen that properly and literally are applicable
to the representative subject: nor ought any circum¬
stance to be added that is not. proper to the representa¬
tive subject, however justly it may be applicable pro¬
perly or figuratively to the principal. The following
allegory is therefore faulty :
Ferns et Cupido,
Semper ardentes acuens sagittas
Cote cruentd. -tlorat. lib. ii. ode 8.
For though blood may suggest the cruelty of love, it
is an improper or immaterial circumstance in the re¬
presentative subject: water, not blood, is proper for a
whetstone.
We proceed to the next head, which is, to examine
in what circumstances these figures are proper, in what
impi-oper. This inquiry is not altogether superseded by
what is said upon the same subject in the article Com¬
parison 5 because, upon trial, it will be found, that a
short metaphor or allegory may be proper, where a si¬
mile, drawn out to a greater length, and in its nature
more solemn, would scarcely be relished.
And, in the first place, A metaphor, like a simile, is
excluded from common conversation, and from the de¬
scription of ordinary incidents. Secondly, In expressing
any severe passion that totally occupies the mind, me¬
taphor is unnatural.
The following example, of deep despair, beside the
highly figurative style, has more the air of raving than
of sense:
Calista. Is it the voice of thunder, or my father ?
Madness ! confusion ! let the storm come on,
Let the tumultuous roar drive all upon me,
Dash my devoted bark ; ye surges, break it:
’Tis for my ruin that the tempest rises.
When I am lost, sunk to the bottom low,
Peace shall return, and all be calm again.
Fair Pejiitent, act. v.
The following metaphor is swreet and lively; but it
suits not the fiery temper of Chamont, inflamed with
passion : parables are not the language of wrath vent¬
ing itself without restraint:
Chamont. You took her up a little tender flow'r,
Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost
Had nipp’d ; and with a careful loving hand,
Transplanted her into your own fair garden,
Whei’e the sun always shines: there long she flourish’d,
Grew sweet to sense, and lovely to the eye ;
Till at the last a cruel spoiler came,
Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness,
Then cast it like a loathsome weed away.
Orphan, act. iv.
The following speech, full of imagery, is not natural
in grief and dejection of mind.
Gonsale%. O my son ! from the blind dotage
Of a father’s fondness these ills arose.
For thee I’ve been ambitious, base, and bloody :
For thee I’ve plung’d into this sea of sin;
Stemming the tide with only one weak hand,
While t’other bore the crown (to wreathe thy brow),
Whose weight has sunk me ere I reach’d the shore.
Mourning Bride, act. v. sc. 6.
There is an enchanting picture of deep distress in
Macbeth, where Macduff is represented lamenting his
wife and children, inhumanly murdered by the tyrant.
Stung to the heart with the news, he questions the
messenger over and over: not that he doubted the fact,
but that his heart revolted against so cruel a misfor¬
tune. After struggling some time with his grief, he
turns from his wife and children to their savage but¬
cher : and then gives vent to his resentment, but still
with manliness and dignity $
O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle Heav’n !
Cut short all intermission j front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself j
Within
' M E T [ 555 ] MET
Within my sword’s length set him. If he ’scape,
Then Heav’n forgive him too.
Metaphorical expression, indeed, may sometimes he
used with grace where a regular simile would be in¬
tolerable : but there are situations so severe and dispi¬
riting, as not to admit even the slightest metaphor.
It requires great delicacy of taste to determine with
firmness, whether the present case be of that nature:
perhaps it is; yet who could wish a single word of this
admirable scene altered ?
But metaphorical language is proper when a man
struggles to bear with dignity or decency a misfor¬
tune however great j the struggle agitates and animates
the mind :
Wolsey. Farewell, a long farewell to all my great¬
ness $
This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him j
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls as I do. Henry VIII. act iii. sc. 6.
METAPHRAST, a translator, or person who ren¬
ders an author into another form or another language,
word for word.
Metaphor,
Meta-
phrast.
' v '
METAPHYSICS.
j TV/TETAPHYSICS has been defined, by a writer
| aition. deeply read in the ancient philosophy, “ The sci¬
ence of the principles and causes of all things existing.”
This definition we think extremely proper : and hence
it is, that mind or intelligence, and especially the su¬
preme intelligence, which is the cause of the universe,
and of every thing which it contains, is the principal
subject of this science j and hence, too, the science it¬
self received its name. Ai’istotle, indeed, who, of all
the ancient metaphysicians whose works have come
down to us, wras unquestionably the greatest, calls this
science the first philosophy, as being not only su¬
perior, but also prior in the order of nature, to the
whole circle of the other arts and sciences. But, “ what
. is first to nature, is not first to man.” Nature begins
with causes, which produce effects. Man begins with
effects, and by them ascends to causes Thus all hu¬
man study and investigation proceed of necessity in the
. reverse of the natural order of things, from sensible to
intelligible, from body the effect, to mind, which is both
the first and the final cause. Now physics being the
name given by the Stagyrite to the philosophy of body,
some of his interpreters, from this necessary course
of human studies, called that of mind metaphysics,
implying by that term not only that its subject is more
sublime and difficult, but also that the study of it would
be most properly and successfully entered upon AFTER
. THAT OF PHYSICS. To this name, which, though it
has sometimes been treated with ridicule, is abundantly
significant, the followers of Aristotle were led by their
master, who, to the books in which he pretends to ele¬
vate the mind above things corporeal to the contempla¬
tion of God and things spiritual, prefixed the Greek
2 words (a).
I Lon of The science of Metaphysics has been divided, ac-
! science cording to the objects which it considers, into six prin¬
cipal parts, which are called, I. Ontology; 2. Cosmo¬
logy ; 3. Anthroposophy; 4. Psychology ; 5. Pneumato-
logy i and, 6. Metaphysical theology. ^
I. That part of the science W'hich is named o?ito- Ontology;
logy, investigates and explains the nature and essence
of all beings, as well as the qualities and attributes
that essentially appertain to them. Hence it has been
said that ontology should proceed in its operations
from the most simple ideas j such as do not admit of
any other qualities of which they may be compound¬
ed. These simple ideas are of being, of essence, of
substance, of mode, of existence as well with regard to
time as place, of a necessary cause of unity ; the idea of
negation ; the difference between a being that is simple
or compound, necessary or accidental, finite or infinite ;
the ideas of essential and abstract properties, such as of
the greatness, perfection, and goodness of beings, &c.
The business therefore of ontology, is to make us ac¬
quainted with every kind of being in its nature and
essential qualities, which distinguish it from all other
beings. This knowledge being once established on
simple principles, just consequences may thence be drawn,
and those things proved after which the metaphysician
inquires, and which is the business of his science to
prove.
It is easy to conceive, that even a clear knowledge
of beings, and their essential properties, would be still
defective and useless to man, if he did not know how
to determine and fix his ideas by proper denomina¬
tions, and consequently to communicate his percep¬
tions to those whom he would instruct, or against
whom he is obliged to dispute. Tm render our ideas
therefore intelligible to others, wTe must have deter¬
minate words or denominations for each being, and
the qualities of each being j and ontology teaches us
those terms which are so necessary to fix our ideas,
and to give them the requisite perspicuity and preci¬
sion, that when wre endeavour to extend the sphere
4 A 2 of
(a) TftN META TA ^TEIKA. Cujus inscriptionis hsec ratio est, quod in hoc opere ea tractantur quorum
theoria posterior est doctrinse naturali saltern quoad nos, qui a corporum cogmtione reiumque ca ucarum in
substantiarum immaterialium atque immortalium contemplationem provehimur. ^ ^ Synops Doctr Peripat
556 ME T A P
Divisions of of our knowledge, we may not waste our time in dis-
the Science, putes about words.
' 2. Metaphysics, having, in as solid a manner as
4 possible, explained and established the principles above
’mentioned, continues its inquiries to the second part,
which is called cosmology, and examines into the essence
of the world and all that it contains } its eternal laws j
of the nature of matter; of motion 5 of the nature
of tangible bodies, their attributes and adjuncts 5 and
of all that can be known by reasoning and experience.
It is also in cosmology that the metaphysicians
of this school examine the Leibnitzian system ; that
is, whether God, in creating the world, must neces¬
sarily have created the best world \ and if this world
be so in fact. In this manner they pursue the argu¬
ment, from consequence to consequence, to its last
resort, frequently with very little advantage to truth
and science.
3. Anihroposophy, or the knowledge of man, forms
the third branch of metaphysics. It is subdivided into
two parts. The first, which consists in the knowledge
of the exterior parts of the human frame, belongs not
to this science, but to Anatomy and Physiology. The
business of the metaphysician is here to ascertain the
nature of those powers by which all the motions essential
to life are produced; and to discover, if possible, whether
they be corporeal or spiritual. This inquiry leads at
the same time to
S
Anthro-
posopliy ;
Psychology; 4-_ Psychology; which consists in the knowledge of
c ’the intellectual soul in particular j concerning which
the most profound, the most subtle, and most abstract
researches, have been made that human reason is ca¬
pable of: and concerning the substance of which, in
spite of all these efforts, it is yet extremely difficult to
support any positive opinion with conclusive or probable
7 arguments.
Pneuma- 5’ ^ fifth part of metaphysics is c'dWcApneumatology.
tology; By this term, which has not been long in use, meta¬
physicians mean the knowledge of all spirits, angels,
&.c. It is easy to conceive what infinite art is neces¬
sary to give an account of that, of which nothing po¬
sitive can ever be known in the present state of human
existence. But the metaphysician of this school readily
offers to show us, “what is the idea of a spiritj the
effective existence of a spirit} what are its general
qualities and properties ; that there are rational spirits,
and that these rational spirits have qualities that are
founded in the moral attributes of God for this is
in so many words what is attempted to be taught in
pneumatology.
Metalbv ,6" MetaPhsical theology, which Leibnitz and some
sical theo- ot. S calj theodiclJ, is the sixth and last branch of the
J*>gy. science of metaphysics. It teaches us the knowledge
of the existence of God j to make the most rational
suppositions concerning his divine essence, and to form
a just idea of his attributes and perfections, and to
demonstrate them by abstract reasoning. Theodicy
differs from natural theology, in as much as this last
borrows, in fact, from theodicy proofs and demon¬
strations to confirm the existence of a supreme Being :
but after having solidly established that great truth,
by extending its consequences natural theology teaches
U"> what are the relations and connexions that subsist
between the supreme Being and men, and what are the
unties which result from these relations.
H Y S 1 C S.
We have briefly mentioned these divisions of the d;t;s
science, because they were once prevalent in the theScknc
schools. The greater part of them, however, appears ' v-—
to us to be not only superfluous, but such as can serve 0
no other purpose than to perplex the mind. The only ^ms ^'!'
beings of which we know any thing are mind and body ; and imp!'
and we have no reason to think that there are any per.
other beings in the universe. Of bodies indeed there
are various kinds, endowed with different properties:
and it is extremely probable, that of minds endowed
with different powers, the variety may be equally great.
Our owm minds wre know to be united in one system
with bodies by which they perform all their operations j
and we can demonstrate that there is another Mind,
which is independent of all body, and is the cause of
all tilings. Between these there may be numberless
orders of minds 5 but their energies are w holly unknown
to us, and therefore they can never become the objects
of science.
Mind and body therefore, i. e. the minds and bodies
which we know to exist, together with their powers and
properties, essential and accidental, can alone be the
subjects of rational inquiry. We may inquire into the
essence of mind and the essence of body, and endeavour
to ascertain in what respects they differ. We may ex¬
amine the nature of different bodies, in order to discover
whether all bodies, however modified, have not some¬
thing in common 5 and wre may consider the properties,
relations, and adjuncts of bodies, and endeavour to
distinguish those which are accidental from such as ap¬
pear to be so necessary that without them body itself could
not exist. Of minds w^e cannot make the same compari¬
son. In this part of the science we have not sufficient
data for an accurate and complete induction : we can
only examine the powers of our owm mind ; and by pro¬
bable analogy make some estimate of the powers of
superior minds, as observation will help us to guess at the
powers of those which are placed beneath us in the scale
of existence.
If this be so, Cosmology, as distinguished from On¬
tology, cannot properly be a branch of Metaphysics,
lor if mind and body, with their several powers, pro¬
perties, and adjuncts, compose the universe, it is ob¬
vious, that when wTe have ascertained, as well as we
are able, the essence of mind and the essence of body,
together with the pow ers and properties of each, and
have traced them all to the first cause, we have done
every thing in the science of the universe, if wre may use
the expression, which belongs to the province of the
metaphysician. The particular laws of motion on the
earth and in the planetary system belong to the natural
philosopher and astronomer.
In like manner, Anthroposophy, Psychology, or
Pneumatology, if they be not words expressive of dis¬
tinctions where there is no difference, seem to be at
least very needlessly disjoined from each other. Of the'
nature of spirits we can know nothing but from con¬
templating the powers of our own minds ; and the body
of man is in the province, not of the metaphysician,
but or the anatomist and physiologist. Anthroposophy,
psychology, and pneumatology, if they be used to
denote our knowledge of all minds except the Supreme,
are w ords of the same import j for of no created minds
except our own can we acquire such knowledge as de¬
serves the name of science.
i
't
4
Ontology
METAPHYSICS.
ons of Ontology 1ms sometimes been defined the science of
nee. being in the abstract; but in the course of our inquiries
-— it will be seen, that being in the abstract is a phrase with¬
out meaning. Considered as the science of real beings
and then-properties, Ontology is a very significant word,
of the same import with Metaphysics, comprehending
in itself the knowledge of the nature of all things
existing. Or if it be thought proper to make a dis¬
tinction between ontology and theology, the former
branch of the science will teach the knowledge of bo¬
dy and created minds, whilst it is the province of the
latter to demonstrate the existence and attributes of
that mind which is uncreated,
er Body and mind, therefore, with their properties,
ed. adjuncts, and powers, comprehend the whole subject
of the science of metaphysics *, and as we are earlier
acquainted with body than with mind, the natural or¬
der of conducting our inquiries seems to be, to begin
with the former, and thence proceed to the latter. It
is obvious, however, that if we would pursue these in¬
quires with any hopes of success, we must first trace
human knowledge from its source, ascertain the na¬
ture of truth, and show what kind of evidence on each
topic to be treated ought to enforce conviction. In
this view of the science, metaphysics appears to be
divided into three parts*, the first treating of human
Understanding; the second, of body with its adjuncts;
i and the third, of mind with its powers.
nd Previous to the entering upon such inquiries, some
ex- philosophers of great merit have thought it expedient to
^ explain the terms which they might have occasion to
use. Their conduct is judicious and worthy of imita¬
tion ; for the objects of metaphysics being, for the most
part, such as fall not. under the cognizance ol the senses,
are liable to be differently apprehended by different
men, if the meanings of the w'ords by w'hich they are
expressed be not ascertained with the utmost precision.
We intend, however, to use very few* words but in the
common acceptation 5 and we therefore hope, that as
5^7
terms of science are explained under different words in Divisions of
the Dictionary, to which references are made, w7e have theScience.
little or no occasion for swelling the article by previous ■ -'
definitions. There are indeed two words which have
given rise to much useless disputation, which yet cannot
be banished from speculative philosophy, and which it
will therefore be proper here to define. The words to
which we allude are idea and notion. These are very
generally considered as synonymous; but we think that
much logomachy might have been avoided by assigning
to each a determinate signification. We know not any
philosopher u'ho made much use of the word idea before
Plato 5 but with his mysterious doctrine concerning ideas
w e have here nothing to do: our present business is to
ascertain the precise meaning of the word, which is
evidently derived from to see, as the word notion is
from “ nosco,novi,KG*/?»,” and that from yetua-Ku to know
or understand. In the original sense of the two words,
therefore, notion is more comprehensive than idea^
because we know many things which cannot be seen.
TV e have not a doubt, but that at first the word idea
vras employed to denote only those forms of external
objects which men contemplate in their imaginations,
and which are originally received through the sense of
sight. Its signification wras afterwards extended to the
relicts of every sensation, of touch, taste, sound, and
smell, as well as of sight; and at last it was confounded
with notion, which denotes the mental apprehension of
whatever may be known. In our use of the word idea,
except when we quote from others, we shall employ it
only to denote that appearance which absent objects of
sense make in the memory or imagination (b) ; and by
the word notion wre shall denote our apprehension or
know'ledge of spirits, and all such things as, though
they be the objects of science, cannot be perceived by
the external senses. Having said this, w7e proceed to
our inquiries, beginning with that into human under¬
standing.
PART I. OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.
Preliminary Observations on the Origin of our Ideas
and Notions.
1 THAT the mind of man has no innate ideas or
mte notions, but comes into the world ignorant of every
a I1)”, thing, is a truth which since the days of Locke has
been very little disputed. In the first book of his
Essay on the Human Understanding, that acute philoso¬
pher has demonstrated, that the rudiments or first prim
ciples of all our knowledge are communicated to us by
sensation; and he has compared the mind, previous to
the operation of external objects upon the senses, to a
tabula rasa or sheet of white paper. To repeat his ar¬
guments would swell the article to no purpose. There
is not a man capable of attending to his own ideas,
who
(b) In thus restricting the meaning of the word idea, we have the honour to agree with the great English
Lexicographer.—“ He was particularly indignant against the almost universal use of the word idea in the
sense of notion or opinion, when it is clear that idea can only signify something of which an image may be
formed in the mind. We may have an idea or image of a mountain, a tree, or a building : but we cannot
surely have an idea or image of an argument or proposition. Yet we hear the sages of the law delivering^ their
ideas upon the question under consideration *, and the first speakers in Parliament entirely coinciding in the
idea, which has been so ably stated by an honourable member 5 or representing aw idea as unconstitutional, and
fraught with the most dangerous consequences to a great and free country. I his Johnson cabled modern cant.
BosweWs Life of Johnson.
. METAPHYSICS. Part
Origin of who can entertain a doubt in what manner he received
Ideas and them. Without the sense of sight, we could never
Notions. ]Jave known colours ; nor sound, without hearing ; nor
' hardness, softness, smoothness, pain, or bodily pleasure,
without touch ; nor odours, without smell, &c.
Self-evident as these facts are, objections have been
started to the inferences drawn from them ; and Locke
has been accused of advancing principles subversive of
all distinction between truth and falsehood, and favour¬
able of course to universal scepticism.—“ The first
book of his Essay, which, with submission, (says Dr
* Essay on Beattie*) I think the worst, tends to establish this
the Nature dangerous doctrine, that the human mind, previous to
“feducation and habit, is as susceptible of one impression
Truth. as °f another : a doctrine which, if true, would go
near to prove, that truth and virtue are no better than
human contrivances 5 or at least that they have nothing
permanent in their nature, but may be as changeable
as the inclinations and capacities of men; and that
there is no such thing as common sense in the world.
Surely this is not the doctrine which Mr Locke meant
to establish.” We are so thoroughly satisfied that it
is not, that we cannot help wondering how such in¬
ferences could, by a man of learning, genius, and can¬
dour, be drawn from any thing which is to be found
in the Essay on the Human Understanding.
But the Doctor thinks Mr Locke’s “ simile of the
mind to white paper one of the most unlucky allusions
that could have been chosen ; because the human soul,
when it begins to think, is not extended, nor of a
J. Usher, white colour, nor incapable of energy, nor wholly
iwthor^of unfurnished with ideas, nor as susceptible of one im-
rol of Fu- Press^on or character as of any other and it has been
gitive observed by another objector+, that “ on a sheet of
Pieces white paper you may write that sugar is bitter ; worm-
vrintcdfor wood sweety fire and frost in every degree pleasing
'condo/i™’ an<^ sufferable : that compassion and gratitude are base j
1774. ’ treachery, falsehood, and envy, noble ; and that con-
13 tempt is indifferent to us.”
Objections All this is true ; but Ave apprehend it is not to the
answered, purpose. Mr Locke has no where expressed himself
in such a manner as to lead us to suppose that he be¬
lieved the soul to be extended or coloured j or, when it
begins to think, incapable of energy, and wholly un¬
furnished with ideas : but he certainly did believe, that
it begins not to think the first instant of its existence,
and that it acquires all the ideas of which it is ever
possessed. We may undoubtedly write upon a piece
of white paper that sugar is bitter, and that wormwood
is sweet; but how the capacity of paper to receive
the symbols of false propositions should make Mr
Locke’s comparison improper or dangerous, we can¬
not comprehend. Mr Usher indeed says, that it is im¬
proper on this account, “ that no human art or in¬
dustry is able to make those impressions upon the
mind: in respect of them, the mind discovers not a
passive capacity, but resists them with the force of
fate.” Does it indeed ? does the mind reject the idea
of sugar or of bitterness, of contempt or of indiffer¬
ence ? May not any man have the idea of sugar and at
the same time the idea of bitterness, and compare the
one with the other in his mind, as well as the word
sugar may be written beside the word bitter, and con¬
nected with it on the same piece of paper? In all this
we perceive nothing that is impossible or even difficult.
The mind cannot indeed be made to feel that sugar ori
has the same taste with wormwood j but who ever Ideas a
thought that it could ? Not Mr Locke, we shall be Notioj
bold to say 5 nor does his simile give the smallest coun-
tenance to such an absurdity. The author of the
Essay on the Human Understanding understood his
subject too well to imagine that either truth or false¬
hood could be communicated to paper, or that paper
is capable of comparing ideas. Paper is capable of
receiving nothing but lines or figures j and it passive¬
ly receives whatever lines or figures we may choose to
inscribe on it: yet if a pen be carried over it in a cir¬
cular direction, the figure impressed will not be a
square; just as, to the mind of one eating sugar, the
taste communicated is not that of wormwood.
On a piece of paper a circle may be described, and
close beside it a square : in like manner an agreeable
sensation may be communicated to the mind, and im¬
mediately afterwards a sensation that is disagreeable.
These two sensations, or the ideas which they leave
behind them, may be compared together 5 and it is
certainly true that no art or industry can make them
appear similar in the mind : but is it not equally true,
that no art or industry can make the circle and the
square similar on the paper ? The paper is susceptible
of any sort of plain figures, and the mind is equally
susceptible of any sort of ideas or sensations ; but fi¬
gures dissimilar cannot be made to coincide, neither
can discordant ideas be made to agree. Again, one
may write upon paper, that “ a circle is a square,”
and likewise that “ a circle is not a square j” and
both these propositions may be communicated to the
mind by the organs of sight or of hearing. The paper
receives the words expressive of the false as well as
those expressive of the true proposition ; and the mind
receives the ideas and relations signified by the one clus¬
ter of words as well as those signified by the other:
but in the mind the idea of a square is different from
that of a circle, and on the paper the figure of a square
is different from the figure of a circle. The great diff er¬
ence between the mind and the paper is, that the for¬
mer is conscious of its ideas, and perceives their agree¬
ment or disagreement j whereas the paper is not con¬
scious of the figures drawn upon it, nor perceives any
thing about them. But still those figures are what they
are 5 they either agree or disagree on the paper, as
well as the ideas either agree or disagree in the mind.
It is not in the power of the mind to alter the ideas of
the square and the circle, nor in the power of the
paper to alter the forms of these figures.
It appears then, that the principles of Mr Locke, and
the comparison by which he illustrates them, have no
more tendency to subvert the difference between truth
and falsehood, right and wrong, than the passiveness of
paper has to subvert the difference between a straight
line and a crooked, a circle and a square : and with a
view to establish the doctrine of innate ideas and in¬
stinctive principles of knowledge, we might with as
much propriety ask, Whether it he possible to ima¬
gine that any mode of manufacture could make paper
of such a nature, as that a pen drawn over it in a cir¬
cular direction would leave the figure of a square ? as
that, “ Whether it be possible to imagine, that any
course of education could ever bring a rational creature
to believe that two and two are equal to three.”
The
M E T A P
C iP- I-
c in of The mind being thu?, as we may say, originally
j( s and white paper, void of all characters, without ideas or
? i°lls- , notions of any kind, the first question which we have
u ' to consider is, Whence and in what manner it derives
p;| |i de- the materials of all its knowledge ? To this question the
(iv from only answer which can be given is, That it derives them
ser ion from observation and experience ; from observation,
am eflec- ejt]ier employed upon external objects of sense, or turn-
^ ed inwardly upon its own operations. Our senses, con¬
versant about particular external objects, convey into
the mind several distinct perceptions ; such as those of
colour, figure, heat, cold, bitterness, streetness, and all
those things which are usually called sensible qualities.
The notions, ideas, or whatever else they may be called
which are acquired in this manner, may be called sen¬
sible knowledge; and the source of that knowledge is
termed sensation.
The other fountain from which experience furnishes
the understanding with knowledge, is that attention
which we are capable of giving to the operations of
our own minds when employed about those ideas
which were originally suggested by objects of sense.
These operations, when the soul comes to reflect on
them, furnish us with a set of notions entirely different
from the ideas of sense ; such as the notions of percep¬
tion, thinking, doubting, believing, reasoning, knowing,
trilling, and all the different energies and passions of our
own minds. Of these operations we are always con¬
scious when we are awake : but it requires, as shall be
shown afterwards, no inconsiderable effort to set them,
as it were, at a distance, to reflect on them and con¬
sider what they are ; but when we have made this
effort, we acquire notions as distinct, and perhaps more
important, than those ideas which we receive through
the medium of the senses.
Sensation and reflection then furnish mankind with
the first materials of all their knowledge. The mind
seems not to have ideas or notions of any kind which
it did not receive by one or other of these w'ays. By
means of the senses it perceives external objects j and
by that power which it has of turning its attention upon
itself, it discovers the nature and manner of its own
operations.
Although the knowledge which we acquire from re¬
flection be of equal importance, and perhaps of greater
certainty than that which we receive through the me¬
dium of the senses, it comes into the mind at a much
later period j both because it is impossible that the fa¬
culties of the mind should operate without materials,
and because it is much more difficult to attend to these
operations even while they are going on, than to the
objects of sense which solicit our attention. It is for
this reason pretty late before children have any no¬
tions whatever of the operations of their own minds ;
and of the greater part of these operations the bulk of
mankind have no clear or accurate notions during their
whole lives. On the other hand, every human being
is so surrounded with bodies, which perpetually and
variously affect his senses, that a variety of sensible ideas
force an entrance even into the minds of children. In
order therefore to trace the procedure of the under¬
standing, and to ascertain the extent and limits of hu¬
man knowledge, it should seem that we must begin with
considering the external senses, that we may discover
the manner in which we receive knowledge by means of
H Y S I C S. 5Sy
them, the objects ol that knowledge, and its certainty. of
It is to be observed, however, that though we consider Sensation.
the mind as possessed ol many powers or faculties, and    
inquire first into the nature of that faculty which we
conceive to be first exerted, this is done merely for the
sake of proceeding in our subject with method and per¬
spicuity. I he mind is one simple and undivided be¬
ing ; and in every mental energy it is the whole mind,
and not any part or portion of it, that is energetic.
On this account, it is impossible to explain even the na¬
ture of sensation and perception to him who knows not
what is meant by will or understanding ; but to every
one who is acquainted with the common import of
these words, and who has read the short system of
Logic inserted in this Work, we hope that our theory
of perception will be intelligible and convincing.
Chap. L Of Sensation and Pep^ception.
IS
Sect. I. Of Sensation.
The Supreme Being, who made us and placed us Sensation
in this world, has given us such powers of mind as by fivc or-
he saw to be suited to our state and rank in his creation. ^ans’
lie has given us the power of perceiving many objects
around us ; but that power is limited in various ways 5
and particularly in this, that without the organs of the
several senses we perceive no external object. The
senses, as every one knows, are five in number, and each
communicates its proper sensation. It is by the eyes
alone that we see, by the ears that we hear, by the nose
that we smell, and by the tongue and palate that we
taste; the sense of feeling or touch is spread over the
whole body, for we feel equally by our hands and by
our feet, &c. To the powers of perception by the senses
it is necessary not only that we have all the organs enu¬
merated, but that we have them also in a sound and na¬
tural state. There are many disorders of the eye which
cause total blindness, as well as others which impair
without destroying the power of vision. The same
thing is true of the organs of all the other senses.
All this is so well known from experience, that it
needs no proof 5 but it may be worth while to observe,
that it is known from experience only*. For any thing * Reid's
that we know to the contrary, our Creator might have Essays on
endowed us with the power of perception by a thousand
organs of sense, all different from those which we pos- powcn 0j
sess \ and it is certain that he himself perceives every Man.
thing more perfectly than we do without bodily organs. 1(J
For it is to be observed, that the organs of sense are These or-
different from the being which is sentient.—It is notgans them-
the eye which sees, nor the ear which hears ; these are selves not
only the organs by which we see and hear. A man^tient’
cannot see the satellites of Jupiter but by means of
a telescope, nor hear a low voice but by means of an
ear trumpet. Does he from this conclude that it is
the telescope which sees those satellites, or the trumpet
which hears that voice ? Such a conclusion would be
evidently absurd. It is no less absurd to conclude
that it is the eye which sees, or the ear which hears.
The telescope and the trumpet are artificial organs of
sight and of hearing, of which the eye and the ear are
natural organs 5 but the natural organs see and hear as I7
little as the artificial. Instru-
That this is the case with respect to the eye and thements.cf
oar. sensation*
Jy5°
Of ear, is so obvious, that, as far as we know, it has never
Sensation. ]jcen denied. But with respect to the senses of touch,
j taste, and smell, the truth at first view appears not so
oPc>’itiltS evident. A celebrated writer has observed*, that “ af-
cism. ' - ter the utmost efibrts, we find it beyond our power to
conceive the flavour of a rose to exist in the mind: we
are necessarily led to conceive that pleasure as existing
in the nostrils, along with the impression made by the
rose upon that organ (c) j and the same will be the re¬
sult of experiments with respect to every feeling of
taste, touch, and smell. Touch (he says), affords the
most satisfactory evidence, and philosophy detects the
' delusion.” To detect this ■delusion requires, indeed,
no great depth in philosophy •, for it is so far from be¬
ing true that we are necessarily led otherwise than by
association, of which the laws shall be explained af¬
terwards, to conceive the pleasure or pain of touch as
existing at that part of our body upon which the im¬
pression is made, that as every man must have observed,
children previous to experience cannot distinguish the
precise place of their bodies which is affected by the
touch of any external object. Nay, we believe it will
be found upon trial, that if a full grown man, with
all the experience of age to guide him, be pricked
with a pin on any part of his body which he has sel¬
dom handled, and never seen, he will not readily nor
at first put his finger upon the wound, nor even come
very near to the wound. This, however, he would
certainly and infallibly do were the sense of touch ne¬
cessarily conceived as existing at the organ. To these
observations objections may perhaps be made, which
we cannot stay to obviate j but the following, we think,
will admit of none. We appeal to every man who has
experienced that particular sensation of touch which
Scaliger dignified with the name of a sixth sense, whe¬
ther, whilst those sensations were new to him, he was
necessarily led to conceive them as existing at any par¬
ticular organ. If he was not, it follows undeniably
that the organs of sensation are different from the be¬
ing which is sentient j that it is not the eye which sees,
the ear which hears, the nostrils which smell, the tongue
which tastes, nor any part of the body which feels; and
that it is by experience that we learn to associate our
several sensations with those organs upon which the im¬
pressions are made.
It is, however, certain that we receive no sensation
from external objects, unless when some impression is
made upon the organ of sense, either by the immedi¬
ate application of the object itself, or by some medium
f Reid’s Et which passes between the object and the organ f. In
intellectual tW° our. senses> vyl. touch and taste, there must be
Powers of an imme(bate application of the object to the organ.
Man, ami In the other .three the sensation is occasioned by the
Hartley’? impression of some medium passing from the object to
Observa- J
tions on
Man.   —     
METAPHYSICS.
Pull
the organ. The effluvia of bodies drawn into the nostrils or
with the breath are the medium of smell; the undulations Sensat
of the air are the medium of hearing j and the rays of —y- ,
light passing from visible objects to the eye nre the me¬
dium of sight. These are facts known from experience
to hold universally both in men and in brutes. It isr 18
likewise a law of our nature perfectly known to all ^ M
who know any thing of anatomy, that in order to
tual sensation the impressions made upon the external to sensai
organs must be communicated to the nerves, and from don.
them to the brain. First, The object, either immedi¬
ately, or by some medium, makes an impression upon
the organ j the organ serves only us a medium, by which
the impression is communicated to the nerves; and the
nerves serve as a medium to carry it on to the brain.
Here the corporeal part ends $ at least wTe can trace it
no farther. The rest is all intellectual.
The proof of these impressions upon the nerves and
brain in sensation is this, that from many observations
and experiments it is found, that when the organ of
any sense is perfectly sound, and has the impression
made upon it by the object ever so strongly, yet if the
nerve which serves that organ be cut or tied hard,
there is no sensation •, and it is well known that disor¬
ders in the brain deprive us of sensation, while both the
organ arid its nerve are sound.
There is sufficient reason, therefore, to conclude,proc^.
that in sensation the object produces some change in nature ii
the organ 5 that from the organ the change proceeds sensatio:
to the nerve, and from the nerve to the brain. Hence
it is that wre have positive sensations, from negative ob¬
jects, or mere nonentities, such as darkness, blackness,
and vacuity. For, sensation resulting from changes in
the brain, whatever produces any change must of course
occasion a new sensation : but it is obvious, that the
mere absence of any impression, by the removal of the
object Avhich produced it, must as necessarily cause a
change in the organ, nerves, and brain, as the presence
of a new impresskm from a new object. To these
changes, or that which immediately produces them, we
give the name of impressions; because we know not
how, in a general mannei’, to express more properly any
change produced by an external cause without specify¬
ing the nature of that cause. Whether it be pressure,
or attraction, or repulsion, or vibration, or something
unknown, for which we have no name, still it may be
called an impression.
Sir Isaac Newton was perhaps the first who suppos¬
ed that the rays of light falling upon the bottom of
the eye excite vibrations in the tunica retina; and that
those vibrations being propagated along the solid fibres
of the optic nerves into the brain, cause the actual
sensation of seeing. This hypothesis was adopted by
Dr Hartley, applied to the other senses, and shown to
be
(G) Another eminent writer thinks on this subject very differently, and in our opinion much more justly.—
1 jlPP0Se Vsa} s Bcid) a person who never had this sense (viz. smell') before, to receive it all at once, and to
smell a rose ; can he perceive any similitude or agreement between the smell and the rose ? or indeed between
it^am any other object whatever ? Certainly he cannot. He finds himself affected in a new way, he knows not
wny, or irom what cause. He is conscious that he is not the cause of it himself j but he cannot from the nature
o t ic t ring etermine whether it be caused by body or spirit j by something near, or by something at a distance.
e ca not give it a place any more than he can give a place to melancholy or joy ; nor can he conceive it to
have any existence but when it is smelled.” Inquiry into the Human Mind, ch. 2. sect. 2.
2
c ip. I. M E T A P
f be at least as probable as any which has yet been in-
pe ption. vented to account for the perception of external objects
u ^^ by means of the organs of sense. Be this as it may,
experience informs us, that whatever be the nature of
those impressions and changes which are made by ex¬
ternal objects upon the senses, nerves, and brain, we
have without them no actual sensation, and of course
In satioa perceive nothing ah extra. Hence it has been suppos-
thf ind ed, that the mind is wholly passive in sensation, and
is j dy that sensation is necessarily produced by those impres-
8C sions. But this we believe to be a mistake. Every
man who has been attentive to his own thoughts and
actions, must know instances of impressions having
been certainly made upon his organs of sense without
producing any sensation, or suggesting to his mind the
perception of the particular objects by which the im¬
pressions were caused. He whose mind is intensely
employed in any particular pursuit, may have his eyes
open upon an object -which he does not see ; or he may
not hear the sound of a clock striking within two yards
of him : Nay, we will venture to affirm, that there is
hardly one reader of this article to whom such absences
of sensation have not often occurred; Nowr, as there
is no reason to suppose, that in the one case the un¬
dulations of the air, caused by the striking of the clock,
did not reach his ears, or that in the other the rays of
light, reflected from the object, did not fall upon his
eyes, which were open to receive them j the only
reason which can be assigned for his not having, in these
instances, had audible and visible sensations, is, that
his mind was so engaged in something else as not to pay
to the vibrations in his brain that attention, if we may
so say, without which impressions ah extra can produce
no sensation. There are, indeed, some impressions on
the organs of sense so violent and so sudden, as to force
themselves upon the mind however employed. Such
are those made on the ear by thunder, and on the eye
by strong light. In these cases, sensation is involun¬
tary and unavoidable 5 whence we conclude, not that
in such instances the mind is passive or destitute of en¬
ergy, but that by the violent agitation given to the
brain, it is roused from its reverie, and compelled to
give attention. It appears, therefore, that in sensa¬
tion the mind exerts some kind of energy ; for in no¬
thing but in the sentient being itself can we seek for
the cause why, when all external circumstances are the
same, organical impressions sometimes produce sensa¬
tions and sometimes not j and that cause can only be
the energy of the mind j what kind of energy we pre¬
tend not to say.
Sect. II. Of Perception by the Senses.
Dij [t tQ How the correspondence is carried on between the
8cc tfor thinking principle within us and the material world
cep-without us, has always, as Hr Reid observes, been
icu °k" f°und a very difficult problem to those philosophers
who consider themselves as obliged to account for
every phenomenon in nature. It is, indeed, a pro¬
blem of which we expect not to see a complete solu¬
tion. A few steps beyond the vulgar we may certainly
go ; but the nature of that connexion by which the
mind and body are united, will probably remain for
ever unknown. One question, hovrever, which has
employed much of the attention of philosophers^ both
Vol. XIII. Part II.
H Y S T C S. 561
ancient and modern, appears to be not wholly uuan- of
swerable. It is, Whether by means of our senses we Perception,
perceive external objects mediately or immediately 5 or '
in other words, Whether sensation and perception be
one and the same thing, or two things succeeding
each other ? On this subject, till of late, there appears
to have been in the main a great uniformity in the sen¬
timents of philosophers, notwithstanding their varia¬
tions respecting particular points. Of some of the most
eminent ot them, wre shall give the opinions as we find
them collected by one* who is Well acquainted with * Dr Reid
their writings, who is thoroughly qualified to estimate -^s~
their respective merits, and who cannot be suspected inte/tt’ctmii
partiality to that theory which we feel ourselves com- Powers of
pelled to adopt. Man.
“ Plato illustrates our manner of perceiving exter-fi 22
nal objects thus: He supposes a dark subterraneous
cave, in which men lie bound in such a manner as thatpiat0.
they can direct their eyes only to one part of the cave,
lar behind there is a light, of Which some rays come
over a wall to that part of the cave which is before the
eyes of our prisoners. A number of men variously em¬
ployed pass between them and the light, w hose shadow s
are seen by the prisoners, but not their persons them¬
selves. In this manner did that philosopher conceive
that by our senses we perceive not things themselves,
but only the shadows of things 5 and he seems to have
borrowed his notions on this subject from the disciples
of Pythagoras. „ „
“ If we make due allowance for Plato’s allegorical ofAristc-
genius, his sentiments with respect to sensation and tie;
perception correspond very well writh those of the Pe¬
ripatetics. Aristotle, the founder of that school, seems
to have thought, that the soul consists of two or three
parts, or rather that we have three souls—the vegetable,
the animal, and the rational. The animal soul is held
to be a certain form of the body, which is inseparable
from it, and perishes at death. To this soul the senses
belong j and he defines a sense to be that w hich is ca¬
pable of receiving the sensible forms, or species of ob¬
jects, without any of the matter of them 5 as wax re¬
ceives the form of the seal without any of its matter.
Of this doctrine it seems to be a necessary consequence,
that bodies are constantly sending forth, in all directions,
as many different kinds of forms without matter as they
have different sensible qualities. This was according¬
ly maintained by the followers of Aristotle, though not,
as far as we know, taught by himself. They disput¬
ed concerning the nature of these forms or species,
whether they were real beings or nonentities : but ot
matter and form wre shall have occasion to speak after¬
wards.
“ After Aristotle had kept possession of the schools of Des
for more than a thousand years, his authority, which Cartes 5
had often supplied the place of argument, was call¬
ed in question by Lord Bacon and others. Hes Car¬
tes, however, was the first philosopher who, convin¬
ced of the defects of the prevailing system, attempted
to form another entirely new: but on the nature of
perception by means of the senses he differs little or
nothing from those who had preceded him in that de¬
partment of science. He denies, indeed, and refutes
by solid reasoning, the doctrine which maintains that
images, species, ox fonns of external objects, come from
the objects themselves, and enter into the mind by the
f 4 B avenues
5<S2 M E T A P
Of avenues of the senses. But he takes it for granted, as
Perception, all the old philosophers had done, that what we im-
' mediately perceive must be either in the mind itself,
or in the brain, in which the mind is immediately pre¬
sent. The impressions made upon our organs, nerves,
and brain, can be nothing, according to his philoso¬
phy, but various modifications of extension, figure,
and motion. There can be nothing in the brain like
sound or colour, taste or smell, heat or cold. There are
sensations in the mind, which by the laws of the
union of the soul and body, are raised on occasion
of certain traces in the brain } and although he some¬
times gives the name of ideas to these traces, he does
not think it necessary that they should be perfectly like
the things which they represent, any more than that
words and signs should resemble the things which they
“ According to this system it would appear, that we
perceive not external objects directly by means of our
senses j but that these objects, operating either mediate-
y or immediately upon the organs of sense, and they
again upon our nerves and brain, excite in the mind
certain sensations ; whence we infer the existence of ex¬
ternal objects from our sensations of which they are the
cause. Perception of external objects, therefore, ac¬
cording to Des Cartes, is not one simple original act of
the mind, but may be resolved into a process of reason-
25 ing from effects to causes.”
Of Male- The doctrines of Malebranche, Locke, and Hartley,
branche. respecting perception, differ not essentially from that
of Des Cartes. Malebranche, indeed, supposes, that
external objects are not themselves the causes of per¬
ceptions j but that the Deity, being always present to
our minds more intimately than any other being, does,
upon occasion of the impressions made upon our or¬
gans of sense, discover to, us, as far as he thinks pro¬
per, and according to fixed laws, his own ideas of the
' object: and thus, according to him, we see all things
in God, or in the divine ideas. He agrees,, however,
with Des Cartes and the ancient philosophers, in con¬
sidering it as a truth which it is impossible to refute,
that we perceive not the objects without us, the
sun, moon, and stars, &c. because it is not likely that
the soul sallies out of the body, and takes a walk, as it
were, through the heavens to contemplate these ob¬
jects. She sees them not therefore by themselves j
and the immediate object of the mind, when it sees
the sun, is not the sun itself, but something which is
intimately united to the mind, and is that which he
25 calls an idea.
Of Locke. Locke, speaking of the reality of our knowledge,
says : “ It is evident the mind knows not things imme¬
diately, but only by the intervention of the ideas it has
of them. Our knowledge, therefore, according to
him, is real only so far as there is a conformity be¬
tween our ideas and the things which they represent.”
The manner of our perceiving external objects he il¬
lustrates by the following similitude : “ Methinks the
understanding is not much unlike a closet wholly shut
from light, with only some little opening left, to let
in external visible resemblances or ideas of things with¬
out. W ould the pictures coming into such a dark
lopm but stay there, and lie so orderly as to be
.fbund upon occasion, it would very much resemble the
understanding of a man in reference to all objects of
H Y S I C S. part,
sight, and the ideas of them He has elsewhere f 0f
defined an idea thus : “ Whatsoever the mind perceives Percepi L
in itself, or is the immediate object of perception, U““v~ >
thought, or understanding, that I call an idea; and ;
the power to produce any idea in our mind, I call stamlim
quality of the subject wherein the power is.” He like- book ii.
wise thinks it “ easy to draw this observation, thatchaP i
the ideas of what he calls primary qualities of bodies, t Booli
viz. extension, solidity, figure, mobility, Stc. are reseni-C ^ S
blances of these qualities as they really exist in the
bodies themselves.
This unguarded expression, which affirms that ideas
in the mind are the resemblances of external things, has
brought upon Mr Locke much undeserved ridicule.
That on this and other occasions he uses the word idea
with too great latitude, and that he often confounds
ideas with sensations, and even with the causes of sen¬
sation, must be admitted by his warmest admirers : but
we believe, that by an attentive reader, who peruses
his whole work, and compares such passages as are ob¬
scure with those which are clearer, his meaning may
always be discovered, and with respect to sensation and
perception will generally be found just. That by call¬
ing the ideas of primary qualities resemblances of the
qualities themselves, he meant nothing more than that
bodies in all possible states impress the senses, nerves,
and brain, in such a manner as to produce in the mind
certain sensations, between which and those impressions
there is an inseparable, though unknown, connection, is
evident from the account which he gives of the manner
of perception. “ Our senses (says he), conversant about
particular sensible objects, do convey into the mind
several distinct perceptions of things according to those
various ways in which these objects affect them : and
thus we come by those ideas we have of yellow, white,
heat, cold, soft, hard, bitter, sweet, and all those which
we call sensible qualities j which when I say the senses
convey into the mind, I mean, they from external ob¬
jects convey into the mind what produces those percep¬
tions.” And as bodies can act only by impulse, he
adds, that “ those perceptions can be produced only by
an impression made upon the senses, and some motion
thence continued by our nerves to the brain or seat of
perception.” ^
Dr Hartley was the pupil of Locke and Newton; OfHart
and has, in a more satisfactory manner than all who had
preceded or have since followed him, explained the
material part of the process of perception. His prin¬
ciples we shall have occasion, during the course of the
article, to develope pretty fully. For our present pur¬
pose it is sufficient to say, that all his observations and
arguments evidently suppose, that nothing distant from
the mind can be perceived in the immediate act of
sensation } but that the apparently immediate perception
of external objects is an instance of early and deep-
rooted association. 28 !
In this sentiment Mr Hume agrees with his prede- Of Hun
cessors ; but he obscures his philosophy, and misleads
his reader, by confounding sensations with the impres¬
sions from which they proceed. “ Every one (says
hef) will allow, that there is a considerable difference | Inqm
between the perceptions of the mind, when a mancomu‘ t
feels the pain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of m°-^,^(
derate warmth, and when he afterwards recals to his £ec i*
mory this sensation, or anticipates it by his imagina¬
tion.”
(ip. I. ME T A P
)f tion.” The less forcible and lively of these percep-
p( :ption. tions he with great propriety calls ideas ; but it is ei-
^ / ther through wilful perverseness, or confusion of intel¬
lect, that he chooses to call the others impressions.
Sensation and perception are caused by impressions ; but
they are no more impressions themselves, than the pain
occasioned by the stroke of a bludgeon is the stroke it¬
self, or the bludgeon with which it was struck. But
^ more of this aftenvards.
A< -inent Thus far, then, that we perceive not external objects
of loso- directhj, but infer their existence from certain sensations
f'1 excited in our minds by the operation of these objects
o!- upon our senses, nerves, and brain, seems to have been
| Mo- the opinion of every philosopher from Pythagoras + to
s/i ’s edi- Mr Hume. Por an opinion so universal, and at the
ilC C/ra ame **me 80 contrai7 to the persuasion of the multitude,
I tml some cogent reason must have been assigned. That
Sij ti, reason has been given by many philosophers, but by none
wl : the with greater perspicuity than Dr Porterfield, in his
th iiUoso Kssay concerning the Motion of the Eyes. “ Plow
p! of an- body acts upon the mind, or mind upon body (says he),
tii j are I know not; but this I am very certain of, that nothing
m faith- «an act, or be acted upon, where it is not : and therefore
l” Uhau °Ur can hever perceive any thing but its own pro¬
in other Per modifications, and the various states of the sensorium
w with to which it is present. So that it is not the external
sun and moon, which are in the heavens, that our mind
perceives, but only their image or representation im¬
pressed on the sensorium. Plow the soul of a seeing man
sees those images, or how it receives those ideas from
such agitations in the sensorium, I knew not j but
I am sure it can never perceive the external bodies
themselves to which it is not present.”
This reasoning appears to have force j and, perhaps,
the unanimous agreement of thinking men in all ages
has Still greater force •, yet the doctrine which prevailed
So long, and which to Locke appeared so evident as to
need no proof, has been since called in question by some
eminent philosophers in our own coimtry; who, though
they allow that we cannot perceive external objects but
by means of the senses, yet affirm that they are the
objects themselves which we perceive directly j and that
m perception there is no association which can be resolv¬
ed into a process of reasoning from sensations the effects,
to external objects the causes. Dr Keid, who was per-
wi i we
ar
qu ted.
H Y S I C S. 563
haps the first, and is unquestionably the ablest of this Of
class of philosophers, had expressed himself on the subject Perception,
as follows: v 1
“ If we attend to the act of our mind, which we
call the perception of an external object of sense, we
shall find in it these three things : First, Some concep¬
tion or notion of the object perceived. See.ondhj, A
strong and irresistible conviction and belief of its pre¬
sent existence. And, Thirdly, That this conviction
and belief are immediate, and not the effect of reason¬
ing J.” To the first and second of these propositions, f Essays on
we are persuaded that Des Cartes and Locke would Intel-
readily have assented j nor do we ifnagine that they powcr;. 0f
would have denied the third, had the author allowed e*.
that this strong and irresistible conviction is the con-say ii. ch. 5.
sequence of an early and deep-rooted association resol¬
vable into a process of reasoning. This, however,
the learned professor does not allow 5 for he repeated¬
ly affirms, that it is instinctive and original, and that
“ the constitution of our power of perception deter¬
mines us to hold the existence of what we distinctly
perceive as a first principle, from which other truths
may be deduced, but it is deduced from none.” With,
this view of the matter, he could with no propriety at¬
tempt to support his own opinion by argument 5 but to
the reasonings of Dr Porterfield and others in defence
of the Cartesian theory, he replies in the following
Words : “ That nothing can act immediately where it
is not, I think must be admitted (d) j for I agree with
Sir Isaac Newton, that power without substance is in¬
conceivable. It is a consequence of this, that nothing
can be acted upon immediately where the agent is not
present ; let this, therefore, be granted. To make the
reasoning conclusive, it is farther necessary, that when
we perceive objects, either they act upon us, or yve act
upon them. This does rmt appear self-evident, noi'
have I ever met with any proof of itf.” the Intel0>i
Of the profundity of Dr Reid’s understanding, we iectlMi
have the most firm conviction j nor is there any meta-Pouws of
physician, ancient or modern, from whom we differ Essay
with greater reluctance : but we cannot help thinking**'cliaP-
this a very rash assertion, as his own works appear
to us to afford complete prooi^ that, in perception,
the mind both acts and is acted upon. Let us attend,
however, to the reasons which, on this occasion, indu-
4 B 2 ced
(d) One of the most celebrated of Dr Reid’s followers thinks otherwise. “ That no distant subject can act
upon the mind, is a proposition (says Lord Karnes) which undoubtedly requires evidence j for it is not instinc¬
tively certain : And, therefore, till the proposition be demonstrated, every man may without scruple rely upon
tile conviction of his senses, that he hears and secs things at a distance.” But his Lordship ought to have
known, that Locke and Berkeley, the two philosophers whom he Was combating, have nowhere called m
question the conviction of their senses. They do not, indeed, admit, that the exttina oigans aie t icmse es
percipient, or that by means of them the mind can immediately perceive distant objects j but they have no
where denied, that through the medium of them the mind comes to the knowledge of external exis ence. nc
the reasons which they assign for this twofold opinion are, that in perception they experience action or the
effects of action, which is not their own j and that it is an intuitive truth, that nothing can act where it is
not present. “ But admitting (says his Lordship) that no being can act but where it is, is ^6 any thing
more simple or more common, than the acting upon subjects at a distance by intermediate means. ho,
in fact with respect both to seeing and hearing.” It certainly does and with respect to the 0 her senses like¬
wise 5 but it is the very thing for which Locke and Berkeley would have contended had any man 111 t .en
presumed to call it in question. It is the very foundation of their system ; and if it be granted nothing an be
more evident, than that external existence is \)az immediate object of perception. See Appendi. to -
tnents of Criticism.
504
Of
Perception,
,~o
\\7e think
unsuccess-
iully; and
M E I' A P
ceil him to think, that in perception there is no action
either of the object on the mind or of the mind on
the object.
“ When we say, that one being acts upon another, we
mean, that some power or force is exerted by the agent
which produces, or has a tendency to produce, a change
in the thing acted upon. If this be the meaning of the
phrase, as I conceive it is, there appears no reason for
asserting, that in perception, either the object acts upon
the mind or the mind upon the object. An object, in
being perceived, does not act at all. I perceive the
walls of the room where I sit; but they are perfectly
inactive, and therefore act not upon the mind. To be
perceived, is what logicians call an external denomina¬
tion, which implies neither action nor quality in the ob¬
ject perceived.”
This last sentence we pretend not to understand.
Substance without qualities is to us inconceivable, and
certainly is no object of perception ; for Dr Reid
himself lias told us, and told us truly, that “ the ob¬
jects of perception are the various qualities of bodies.”
That an object in being perceived does not act at all,
is directly contrary to what the ingenious author has
taught us, both in his Inquiry and in his Essays, viz.
that “ it is a law of our nature that we perceive not
external objects, unless certain impressions be made by
the object upon the organ, and by means of the or¬
gan upon the nerve and brain 5” for if the external
object in being perceived make impressions, it is cer¬
tainly not true that it acts not at all. It is indeed
readily acknowledged, that when one perceives the
walls of the room where he sits, these walls do not
act immediately upon the organs of sight 5 hut it does
not, therefore, follow, that they are perfectly inac¬
tive } for it is known to all mankind, that from every
point of the wall which is seen, rays of light are re¬
flected to the eye ; that those rays make upon the re¬
tina tunica an impression, which is conveyed by the
optic nerve to the brain j and that this impression on
the brain is one of the immediate causes of vision.
In what particular manner x\, causes vision, we shall ne¬
ver he able to discover, till we know more of the laws
which unite mind anck body, and by which one of
these is qualified to act upon the other •, hut because
we know not the manner of this operation, to affirm
that there is no operation at all seems to he as absurd
as it would be to affirm, because wc perceive no neces¬
sary connexion between a stroke and the sensation of
sound, that the sound of a musical string is not caus¬
ed by the stroke of a plectrum. That God might
have given us powers of perception of a different kind
from those which we possess, there can be no doubt •,
but with what we might have been, we have no con¬
cern. As we are, we know perfectly that the eye is
an instrument of vision, because without it nothing can
be seen: we know also that the retina and optic nerves
are equally necessary ; because if they he disordered,
vision Is still wanting ; we know likewise, that the brain
is necessary to all perception : because, when it is disor¬
dered, thinking either entirely ceases, or is proportion-
ably disturbed. And, lastly, We are not more certain
of our own existence, than that actual perception takes
not place hut when the object makes an impression upon
some organ ot sense •, for when no rays of light fall up¬
on the eye, we see nothing j when no sapid body is ap-
4
H Y S I C S. Part]
plied to the tongue and palate, we taste nothing \ and or
if we could be removed from every tiling solid, wePerccptio
would feel nothing. These are conclusions which can- '““““Y—
not be controverted. They are admitted equally by
the philosopher and by the plain unlettered man of com¬
mon sense ; nor are they rendered one whit less certain
by our not being able to go a step farther, so as to dis¬
cover in what manner the brain or the affections of it
can he the immediate instrument of sensation and per¬
ception. For (as Dr Reid, in the spirit of true philo¬
sophy, observes J), in the operation of mind, as well t Inquiry
as in those of bodies, we must often he satisfied with?Hfothelt,
knowing that certain things are connected and invari-”^^"
ably follow one another, without being able to discoverp, 2,S- '
the chain that goes between them. It is to such con¬
nexions that we give the name of laws of nature ; and
when we say that one thing produces another by a law of
nature, this signifies no more than that one thing which
wTe call in popular language the cause, is constantly
and invariably followed by another which we call the
effect; and that we know not hoiv they are connect-
ed.
In the preceding section we have observed, that in
sensation the mind exerts some energy j and therefore,
as on every hypothesis perception is a consequence of
sensation, it follows, that in perception the mind
cannot be wholly inactive. Dr Reid, in his Essays on
the Intellectual Powers of Man, seems to affirm that it
is. “ I see no reason (says he) to believe, that in per¬
ception .the mind acts upon the object. To perceive
an object is one thing, to act upon it is another : Nor
is the last at all included in the first. To say that I
act upon the wall by looking at it, is an abuse of lan¬
guage, and lias no meaning.” This is indeed true;
it would be a great abuse of language to say, that by
looking at the wall a man acts upon it: hut we do not
believe that any man ever said or supposed such a
thing. The philosophers, whose opinion he is com¬
bating, might argue in this manner. We are consci¬
ous that in perception the mind is active 5 nothing can
act immediately where it is not} the mind cannot act
immediately upon external existence: external exist¬
ence therefore is not the immediate object of that
energy which is exerted in perception. As Dr Reid
affirms that external existence is the immediate object
ol perception, he must deny the first proposition in
this argument; for if it he granted, as we have just
seen that in his reply to Dr Porterfield he admits the
second, the laws of reasoning will compel him to ad¬
mit the third. To say, that in perception the mind
acts not upon external objects, is a truth in which all
mankind are agreed} and it is the very principle from
which his antagonists infer, that the conviction of the
present existence of external objects is not an original
and instinctive consequence of sensation, but an early
and deep-rooted association which may be resolved
into a process of reasoning. His meaning, therefore,
must he, that in perception the acts not at all:
hut this is directly contrary to his definition of per¬
ception, which he calls an ACT of the mind: it is like¬
wise contrary to his theory of perception, as it is de¬
tailed in the Inquiry into the Human Mind on the prin¬
ciples of Common Sense. We are there taught, with equal
elegance and perspicuity, “ that an impression made by
an external object upon the organ, nerves, and brain,
is
(
ID. I. ' M E T A P
is followed by a sensation, and that this sensation is
ption. followed by the perception of the object.” We are
r—* likewise taught, that “ although the Peripatetics had
no good reason to suppose an active and passive intel¬
lect, they yet came neayer the truth, in holding the
mind to be, in sensation, partly passive and partly ac¬
tive, than the moderns in affirming it to be purely pas¬
sive. Sensation, imagination, memory, and judgment,
have by the vulgar, in all ages, been considered as acts
of the mind. The manner in which they are expres¬
sed in all languages shows this : for when the mind is
much employed in them, we say, it is very active }
whereas, if they were impressions only, we ought to
say that the mind is very passive.” All this is unde¬
niable ; but if sensation necessarily precede perception,
and if in sensation the mind be active, what becomes
of the assertion, that in perception it acts not at all ?
Indeed we may appeal to the common sense of man¬
kind, whether any thing can be perceived without some
mental energy of the percipient. For when the impres¬
sions made on the external senses are faint, in order to
be conscious of them an evident exertion is requisite,
not of the organ only, but also of the mind, as in per¬
ceiving very remote objects and sounds j but when the
impressions are stronger, the perception is involuntary
and unavoidable, as has been already explained in the
! preceding section.
'fore It being thus certain that in perception the mind
dthe-both acts and is acted upon, and it being universally
acknowledged that nothing can act where it is not,
.fer. we feel ourselves compelled to admit with the Carte-
Ms. sians, that in perception the conviction of the present
existence of external objects is not original and instinc¬
tive, but the consequence of an early and unavoidable
association of certain sensations with the causes which
produce them. In this opinion we are still more con¬
firmed by the well-known fact, that particular pressures
upon the organ, nerves, and brain, excite not only
sensations, but even perceptions ot objects apparently
external, when no such objects are within the reach ol
%’s our senses. Thus §, if a man in the dark press either
va- corner of his eye with his finger, he will see a circle
0,1 of colours like those in the feather of a peacock’s tail,
though no such external object be before him, and
though the room be so dark that nothing external
could possibly be seen. Again, if a burning coal be
nimbly moved round in a circle, with gyrations conti¬
nually repeated, the whole circumference of the circle
will at once appear on fire, though it is certain that
there can really be no fire but one portion of that cir¬
cumference, equal in length to the diameter of the
coal. These are facts known to all mankind; and
they are perfectly irreconcileable with the supposition,
that the perception of external objects by the sense of
sight is original and instinctive j but they are at once
accounted for, if it be true that rays of light falling
from external objects upon the retina tunica agitate the
optic nerves and brain, and that such agitations excite
sensations in the mind which experience has taught us
to refer to external objects, as, under God, their ulti¬
mate cause.
But although we have declared ourselves to be in this
instance Cartesians, we do not admit all the absurdi¬
ties which have sometimes been imputed to that sy¬
stem of perception. We do not believe that external
H Y S I C S. 565
objects are perceived by means of images of them in Of
the mind or the brain \ nor do we think that Des Perception.
Cartes or Locke has any where affirmed that they are, ^ *
otherwise than by an expression obviously figurative,
denoting, not that the actual shapes of things are de¬
lineated in the brain or upon the mind, but only that
impressions of some kind or other are conveyed to the
brain by means of the organs of sense and their cor¬
responding nerves } and that between these impressions
and the sensations excited in the mind, there is a real,
and in our present state a necessary, though unknown,
connexion. '
Upon the whole, we think that there is good evi- That theo-
dence for believing, that in perception the process of ry fairly
nature is as follows : First, If the object be not in con- stated, and
tact with the organ of sense, there must be some me¬
dium which passes between them ; as, in vision, the
rays of light; in hearing, the vibrations of elastic air j
and in smelling, the effluvia of the body smelled j other¬
wise we have neither sensation nor perception. Se¬
condly, There must be some action or-impression upon
the organ of sense, either by the immediate application
of the object, as in the two senses of touch and taste j or
by the medium that goes between them, as in the other
three senses. Thirdly, The nerves which go from the
brain to the organ, must receive some impression by
means of that which wras made upon the organ ; and
by means of these neiwes that impression must be car¬
ried to the brain. Fourthly, The impression made
upon the organs, nerves, and brain, rouses the dormant
energy of the mind j and this double action of the
mind and the object produces a sensation. And, last¬
ly, As we know by experience that the mind alone
cannot, by any exertion of its own, produce one sensa¬
tion, and are intuitively certain that nothing can be¬
gin to exist without a cause, we infer from the exist¬
ence of any new sensation the existence of some other
cause than the internal energy of the mind from
which that sensation proceeds ; and this cause experi¬
ence teaches us to be the external object. This process
is carried on so rapidly, and the several parts of it, by
being continually repeated, are so closely associated, that
except by a reflex act of the mind we distinguish them
not from one another, and therefore we denominate the
whole perception. 33
It is with extreme diffidence that v/e advance a doc-Shown to
trine which Dr Reid has controverted j but lie differs
from us only in the last stage § of the process, where Reid,s
he supposes sensation and perception to be two simple j See In-
and independent acts of the mind. Yet he sometimes quiry into
expx-esses himself, as if he thought, as we do, that in the Human
perception the belief of the present existence of exter- ^3 *
nal objects is rather the result of experience, than an ’ ’ J -•
instinctive persuasion. Thus, speaking of the percep¬
tion which we have in smelling a rose, he says § Essays on
“ Perception has always an external object, and the the lntd-
object of my perception in this case is that quality in
the rose which I discern by the sense of smell. Obser- Man, -
ving that the agreeable sensation is raised when the Essay ii.
rose is near, and ceases when it is removed, I am led chap. 15°
by my nature [we think by experience would have been and aI*
more proper] to conclude some quality to be in the
rose, which is the cause of this sensation. This qua¬
lity in the rose is the object perceived j and that act
of my mind, by which I have the conviction and be¬
lief.
566
M E t A P H Y SICS.
Part
Objects of lief of this quality, is what in this case I call peicep-
the respec-tion. Again (he says) that “ three of our senses, viz,,
the Senses, taste> amj hearing, originally gives us only certain
' v sensations, and a conviction that these sensations are oc¬
casioned by some external object. We give a name to
that quality of the object by which it is fitted to pro¬
duce such a sensation, and connect that quality with the
object and with its other qualities. Thus we learn,
that a certain sensation of smell is pi'Oduccd by a rose j
and that quality in the rose by which it is fitted to pro¬
duce this sensation we call the smell of the rose. Here
it is evident that the sensation is original. The percep¬
tion that the rose has that quality which we call its
smell, is acquired.”
To this doctrine no Cartesian could possibly ob¬
ject ; for it is the very account which Des Cartes
himself would have given of perception by the organ
of smell, as it resolves such a perception into an early
association between a certain sensation and that exter¬
nal quality from which we know by experience that
the sensation proceeds. Indeed this excellent author
repeatedly affirms, that every different perception is
conjoined with a sensation which is proper to it } and
that the one is the sign, and the other the thing sig-
* .Essays(Minified. He likewise doubts *, whether children, from
the Intel- tjle time that they begin to use their senses, make a
Powers of distinction between things which are only conceived
Man™0 or imagined, and things which really exist. But if
the conviction of the present existence of external
objects were in perception instinctive, we cannot see
how there could be room for such 'a doubt } for the
mere senses of children are as perfect as those of full
grown men y and they know well the difference be¬
tween actually sucking their nurses and only thinking
of that operation, though they be hot capable of ex¬
pressing that difference in language.
But if in perception’ our conviction of the present
existence 6f external objects be not instinctive, what,
it may be asked, is the evidence that such objects real-
that some- ly exist ? This’ question we shall partly answrer in the
thing exists following Section, and more completely ivhen we come
besides the examjne Berkeley’s theory of the non-existence of
anil tiie0U rnattcr: but from what has been said already, it is suf-
lensation. fieiently evident, that every sensation compels us to
believe in the present existence of something different
from ourselves, as well as from our sensations.
34
Both theo¬
ries afford
intuitive
evidence
Sect. HI. Of the Objects of each Sense respectively.
35
Touch, the
sense by
Hitherto we have considered sensation and per-
\ h' h v cePti°n in general, and shown that it is not by instinct
perceive ^iat we Perceive the existence of external objects,
heat and This will appear more clearly, if we can ascertain the
cold, &c. precise nature of that information which each sense
affords us: and in order to this, We shall begin with
the sense of touch, not only because it is that which is
certainly first exercised, but also because there is a
meaning in which all the others may be resolved in- 01)Jects
to it. _ _ the resp
By means of touch we perceive many things, ofdveSen:
which the chief are, heat and cold, hardness and soft-
ness, roughness and srtioothness, extension, figure, so-Tlle3nat
lidity, and motion. Of these perceptions, some are of heat:
immediate j and others, as we are persuaded, early as-cold, wt [
sociations, which may be resolved into a process ofarc Per:
reasoning. The perceptions of heat and cold are im-
mediate. When a person for the first time in his life
approaches the fire, he feels heat; and when he is first
exposed to the frost, he feels cold. What are beat
and cold, and where do they reside ? They are obvi¬
ously the reverse of each other 5 but are they external
objects, or mere sensations in the mind P They are un¬
doubtedly sensations which have no existence but when
they are felt. To every man not altogether a stranger
to these speculations, this proposition is self-evident;
hut to the bulk of the people it appears an extravagant
paradox. To make it plain, however, to the meanest
capacity, it is sufficient to observe, that at a certain
distance the fire has no perceptible influence upon any
person \ if that distance be lessened, we feel an agree¬
able warmth } approach a little nearer, and the warmth
becomes disagreeable ; and still nearer, it will rise to
pain. No man supposes the pain inflicted by a sword
to exist in the sword, or anywhere else but in a sen¬
tient being. It is equally absurd to suppose pain to
exist in fire, or anywhere else but in a sentient being.
But that which at one distance is pain, at another is - x
only agreeable warmth 5 and since warmth and pain
are only different degrees of the same feeling, it is
equally absurd to suppose the one as the other in the
fire. What then is the object of sense when we feel
heat ? There is obviously no object beyond the present
sensation. ^
But has the sensation of heat no cause independent Their e
of us P Undoubtedly it has, and experience teaches u9temalt‘
that the cause is in the fire. We know that we can-sc3‘
not produce the sensation of heat in ourselves by any
mental energy of our oWn j and we are intuitively cer¬
tain, that nothing can begin to exist without some
cause. A man on the top of a mountain covered with
snotv, may imagine or remember what he felt when in
the neighbourhood of fire, and thus have in his mind
what is called an idea of heat $ but that idea will not
warm him (e) like the actual sensation, which no ex¬
ertion of his own can in such circumstances produce.
When he leaves the mountain, however, and approaches
the fire, he feels the sensation actually produced, and
produced as often as he makes the experiment. He is,
therefore, under the necessity of inferring, that in the
fire there is some power or quality which, acting either
mediately or immediately upon his sense of touch, ex¬
cites the feeling which is called heat. What that power
is, we shall perhaps never be able to discover ; but it is
self-evident, that it is neither heat nor the resemblance
of
(e) W ho can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast ?
Or wallow naked in December’s snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer’s heat ?
Oh no ! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the wrorse.
K. Richard IL
c ip; r. M E T A P
0 ,ts of of heat, though iu vulgar language it is known by that
tin :spec-name.
jjT enses. game reasoning holds good with respect to
u cold. There is at certain times, and in certain conn-,
tries, some power in the air which congeals water and
causes cold ; but that power is as different from the
sensation of cold, as the powrer of fire is different from
the sensation of heat, or the point of a sword from a
flesh wound.
^ By the sense of touch we perceive extension, figure,
J )ns of solidity, &c. but we do not perceive them imme-
ex >ion diately as we perceive heat and cold j for extension, fi-
an jure, gure, and solidity, are not sensations. Those percep-
& otlin tions then must be acquired 5 and more clearly to as-
01 ' certain the manner in which we acquire them, let us
suppose a man from his birth destitute of the sense of
sight and the power of local motion, but possessed of
intellect and every other faculty which we enjoy.—
Such a person, it is obvious, would be capable of every
sensation and perception which is original to us, except
the perception of colours ; but wre doubt whether it
would be possible to give him pexceptions of extension,
figure, and solidity. Let us try j and as he cannot
move a single limb or member of himself, let us sup¬
pose a solid substance of small dimensions to be gently
pressed against any part of his body what would such
pressure communicate to him ? We think it could com-;
municate nothing but a new sensation, to which, as it
is neither pleasing nor painful, no name has hitherto
been given, except the general one of feeling. This
sensation he would not know whether to refer to an
external or internal cause ; or rather he could have no
notion whatever of an external cause, though he would
at the same time be conscious that the new sensation
was not excited by any energy of his own will. Were
the pressure to be gradually increased till it rose to
pain, our blind man would still be conscious of nothing
but a sensation, which could not lead him to the no¬
tion of extension, figure, or solidity, because mere
sensations cannot be conceived as either solid or ex¬
tended. Let us next suppose the pressure to be ap¬
plied successively to different parts of his body ; he
would now indeed be conscious of successive sensations,
but he could not assign to them either extension or
place: for it has been ah'eady shown that the external
parts of the body are not themselves sentient; and it
shall be shown afterwards, that to a man who has never
perceived motion, place is absolutely inconceivable.
Lastly, Let us suppose the dimensions of the pressing
substance to be greatly enlarged : what would then fol¬
low ? nothing, we apprehend, but an increase of pain:
for though his whole body were pressed ab extra, the
pressure could affect the individual being which is
sentient, not more extensively, but only more vio¬
lently. It appears, therefore, that a man blind from
his birth, and destitute of the power of local motion,
could never be made to perceive extension, figure, or
p solidity.
H they Let us now suppose this man to receive by a miracle
quir- the use of his limbs, and to be suddenly prompted, by
some instinctive impulse, to arise and walk. So long
as he met with no obstacle in his way, he would not,
we apprehend, acquire by this exercise any coi’rect no¬
tions of extension or figure ; but were a stene or log
of wood, of considerable dimensions to be laid across
3
567
h Y s 1 c sr.
his usual walk, the case would soon be altered. He objects of
would feel himself interrupted in his course, and he the respec-
would at the same instant recognize his wonted sensa- five Senses,
tions of touch. After being twice or thrice thus in-' v
terrupted, he would learn from experience that the in¬
terruption or resistance proceeded from the same cause
which in this instance communicated to him the sen¬
sation of feeling j and were he to run his hand along
tlm surface of the log or stone, he would perceive the
resistance and the sensation continued. As every effect
must have an adequate cause, this continued resistance
would compel him to believe the continuity of some¬
thing external in every direction in which he felt his
hand resisted ; but such continuity of being is all that
is meant by the word extension. At the very same
time, and by the very same means, he would gradual¬
ly acquire the perception of figure ; for by running
his hand in every direction over the surface of the ob¬
stacle which opposed him, he would soon perceive it
on all sides limited; ..but the limits of extension is a
phrase of precisely the same import with figure. It
appears, therefore, that without the power of local
motion, men could never, by the sense of touch, acquire
the notions of extension and figure \ and the same will
be found to be.the case with respect to hardness and
softness..
When we press our hand gently against a stock or Hardness
a stone, we feel a sensation which is neither painful and soft-
nor pleasing. When we press it more violently, theness’
sensation becomes painful, and we experience in thePertt1'e
object a resistance which we have not power to over¬
come. When we press butter or pomatum very gently,
we have a sensation in all respects similar to that which
we felt when we gently touched the stock or the stone.
But when we press the butter with violence, we feel no
pain, and experience little resistance ; for the parts of
which it is composed give way before the hand, though
the parts of the stock or the stone remained fixed and
immoveable. That the parts of one body should thus
resist a pressure to which the parts of another so readi¬
ly yield, must proceed from some difference in the
texture of the two bodies : for by the sense of touch
we perceive the effects to be different; and are there¬
fore certain that they must proceed either from differ¬
ent causes, or from the same cause operating with
different degrees of force. That particular texture
which makes the parts of a stone resist the pressure of
touch, we call hardness ; and the texture which makes
the parts of butter or pomatum give way to touch, we
call softness. But what hardness and softness are in
themselves, touch cannot inform us 5 for they are nei¬
ther sensations, nor similar to sensations. We acquire,
however, by experience, so complete notions of hard¬
ness and softness, that every one who understands the
English language perfectly knows the meaning of these
words as soon as he hears them 5 and when he is told
that one body is hard and another soft, he knows with
absolute certainty that the meaning of tbe assertion is*
that the parts of the body which is said to be hard are
held together by some unknown cause operating for¬
cibly, and that tbe parts of the other are held toge¬
ther by the same or a similar cause operating with less
force, 41
We acquire the notions of roughness and smootbness Roughness
in the very same way and by the very same means thatand sm00tiiT
we
568
Objects of we acquire ideas oi extension and figure. lo describe
therespec- the process at large would certainly be superfluous; tor
live Senses, j (.• wj,at we jiave sai,l concerning our perceptions of ex-
tension and figure be just and intelligible, every one^
will, without farther assistance, discover for himself how
he perceives roughness and smoothness. Motion shall
he considered among the adjuncts of body j but in or¬
der to understand what body itself is, it will be neces¬
sary, before we dismiss the sense of touch, to inquire
42 how we come by the notion of solidity.
Solidity, Solidity is one of those notions, or, in the language
what; and 0f Locke, one of those ideas, which are commonly
ceivcd**" sa^ to acquired by the sense of touch. That touch
gives the first hint towards our notion of solidity, is
certainly true ; but that hint must be afterwards im¬
proved by the intellect, or we never could have an ade¬
quate knowledge of what is meant when any thing is
said to be absolutely solid. We know by experience,
that we can at pleasure open and shut our empty hand
w ithout meeting with any resistance. We know like¬
wise, that when we grasp an ivory ball of three or four
inches diameter, no force which we can exert will bring
together the several parts of the hand, which were ea¬
sily brought together when we grasped nothing. In
this way do we acquire our first notion of solidity $ for
the word denotes nothing more in this instance than
the power or property of the ball, by Avhich our
fingers are excluded from the place which it occupies.
Solidity difters from hardness in tins respect, that
hardness results from the strong cohesion of the parts
of a hard body, which renders it difficult to change
the places of those parts, as they respect one another j
whereas solidity respects the whole mass, and is as es¬
sential a quality of water as of adamant. A drop of
water, indeed, placed between twro plane surfaces of
marble, will not like adamant preclude their contact j
because the parts of a drop of water, cohering but
loosely to one another, give way to the pressure, and
escape in every lateral direction. But if a drop of wa¬
ter be confined on all sides, as in a globe of gold, we
know from experience that no force will bring the sides
of the globe together without forcing the water through
the pores of the metal j and hence we infer solidity to
be essential to every corporeal substance.
Thus then it appears that of the objects perceived
by touch not one is immediately perceived except heat,
cold, and other sensations. The sensations, as they are
not excited by any internal energy of our own, lead us
indeed to something external as their cause j and by
comparing the different sensations with each other, and
observing what effects their external causes have upon
our own motions, we are naturally led to conceiva these
causes as extended, figured, solid, hard or soft, rough
or smooth, &c.; but it is obvious that this conception
is the x-esult of experience, and a process of mental rea-
43 soiling.
Nothing On the senses of taste, smell, and hearing, it isiieed-
sensations *ess .to say muc}l- ,-l he immediate objects of these are
the object confessedly sensations which have no existence but when
of smell, they are perceived; though experience teaches us to
refer them all to external objects as their respective
causes. With respect to smell, this has been made suf¬
ficiently evident in the preceding section, and it is not
44 less evident with respect to taste and hearing,
Taste, and Certain bodies applied to the tongue and palate,
Part
and moistened with the saliva, excite certain sensations object
which we call tastes. These sensations, however, arc theresp
not in the bodies ; nor can they have any existence but Sen
•in a sentient being. They are produced in consequence '—"V""
of impulses on the nerves of the tongue and palate,
exciting certain agitations in the brain j but the sen¬
sation itself is neither impulse nor agitation. Some
substances excite tastes which are agi*eeable, and others
such as are disagreeable j and there are not a few which
excite no taste at all. Bodies, which applied to the
tongue and palate of one man produce tastes that are
agreeable, applied to tbe same organs of another man
give him tastes which are disagreeable ; and we have all
experienced, that the same substance, which, when the
organs are sound, excites a sweet or pleasant taste,
has, when the organs were disordered, excited a taste
which was bitter or unpleasant. These facts, which
cannot be controverted, afford the fullest evidence, if
evidence were wanted, that taste, as we feel it, is no
quality of bodies, nor has any existence out of the
mind. _ ... 45
The organ of hearing is the ear, and its object-isHeamd
sound. It is well known, that sound is produced by
certain vibrations of the air striking the tympanum of
the ear, and that these vibrations are caused by the
sonorous body. Sound, however, is not vibration, nor
the idea of sound the idea of vibration. Sound consi¬
dered by itself is a mere sensation, which can have no
existence but in a sentient being. We know by ex¬
perience, that it is caused by something external ; hut
we know likewise that the effect has no resemblance
to the cause. Previous to experience we could not
refer sound to any external cause ) far less could we
discern whether it proceeded from an object above us
or below us, on our right hand or on our left. It ap¬
pears to us self-evident, that if a man born deaf were
suddenly made to bear, he would consider his first sen¬
sation of sound as originating wholly within himself.
Between that sensation and the sensations of touch,
taste, smell, and sight, there is no resemblance j nor
are there any relations among them, which, previous
to experience, could induce him to trace them all to
external objects as their several causes. Our deaf man
might have learned to refer all his other sensations to
their true causes, in some such way as we have describ¬
ed under the sense of touch j but sound xvould be
something so new to him, and so totally different from
touch, taste, and smell, that he could attribute it to
nothing external. 46
Experience, however, would soon teach him that it is lA*
the ear is its organ, and the sonorous body its cause ; PtraIK ,
and he would in time learn to distinguish one Sound,
that of a trumpet for instance, from another, suppose ^ere:
the sound of a bell; and to attribute each to its pro-sonoro
per cause, even when neither the trumpet nor the bell bodies
was perceived by his other senses. With respect to^®^.1
sounds which we have been accustomed to hear, this soumj;
is done so instantaneously, that some philosophers have
imagined it to be the effect of an instinctive principle in
our nature, totally different from experience, and inde¬
pendent of reason. But the fact is not so. Long before
we are capable of making sensation and perception ob¬
jects of reflection, xve have heard the sound produced by
the ringing of a bell, and seen the object which pro¬
duced the sound so often, that, when avc hear a similar
METAPHYSIC S.
(ap.I. METAP
( >cts Of sound again, we instantly refer it to n bell, though we
,1 aspect-see not the hell from which it proceeds : hut this is the
4ij tenses eft'ect of habit, and not of instinct. Had we never per-
u    ceived a bell while ringing by either of our senses of
sight or touch, we could not by the sense of hearing
acquire any notion of the figure or texture of the body
from which the cause of the sound proceeds, though
we had heard that sound every day of our lives. It is,
indeed, by experience only that we learn to distinguish
by the ear whether a sonorous body he before or be¬
hind us, on our right hand or on ouv left, for we find
it always difficult to say from what precise quarter a
strange sound proceeds ; and this difficulty would be
heightened to impossibility, had not all sounds some¬
thing in common. Dr Sparrman relates, that when he
first heard the roaring of a lion, he did not know on
what side of him to apprehend danger, as the sound
seemed to proceed from the ground and to enclose a
circle of which he and his companions stood in the cen¬
tre. The same thing has happened to every man, when
the sound was such as he had never heard before; even
though it was neither so loud nor so terrific as the
roaring of a lion in a desert wilderness : hut with re¬
spect to sounds which we are daily hearing on each
side of us, we soon learn to distinguish with tolerable
accuracy whether they he before or behind us, above
or below, on our right hand or on our left. All this,
however, is the effect, not of instinct, hut of experience
improved into habit.
, 47. Sight is justly considered as the noblest and most
1 Ion' comprehensive of all our senses. The reason is obvi-
( :sno- ous: i°r when a lull grown man opens lus eyes, he
t ; but perceives houses, trees, rivers, the earth, sun, and moon,
‘ iri> Sic. and to each of these objects belong figure, exten-
. sion, colour, &c. which are all perceived instantly by
t iheans of this sense. Yet it is certain, that the sense
of sight does not originally communicate to us so many
perceptions) and there is abundant evidence, that
an infant cannot at first, or for some weeks after its
birth, distinguish by vision one object from another.
Colour is the proper object of sight, and for some time
its only object; but colour as perceived by us is a mere
sensation, which can have no existence but in a sentient
being. If this proposition stood in need ot proof,
we might observe that there are men, and even whole
families, who possess the sense of sight in a degree of
perfection sufficient for all the purposes of life, and yet
cannot distinguish certain colours from each other ;
blue, for instance, from green, or perhaps from red :
and there is no man who can distinguish between some
particular shades of blue and green by the feeble light
of a candle. Were colours the real qualities ol body,
this mistake of one for another could never, be experi¬
enced. No man who possesses the sense of touch ever
confounded hardness with softness, a sphere with a
cube, or an ell with an inch. The reason is, that
hardness and softness, figure and extension, are the
qualities of things external; whereas colour being a
mere sensation, is nothing hut an affection or modifi¬
cation of the sentient being. But it is obvious, that
sentient beings, according as they difl’er from one an¬
other, may he differently affected by the same exter¬
nal cause •, so that one man may perceive that to be
green which all other men perceive to he blue. The
immediate external cause of the sensation of colour, is
Vol. XIII, Part II. f
H Y S I C S. 569
the rays of light reflected from the body, which in objects of
common language is said to he coloured. These rays tbe respec-
failing upon the pupil of the eye, are refracted differ- tivc Senses,
ently, according as their incidence is more or less v ■"
oblique, into points on the retina, where they form
a picture of the external object ; and from the pic¬
ture, by means of the optic nerve, is communicated to
the brain some impulse or agitation, which produces
vision or the perception of colour. As rays of light
are corporeal substances, it is obvious that they can act
upon body only by impulse $ but between impulse and
the various sensations of red, green, blue, &c. there is
no resemblance. For the laws of reflection and refrac¬
tion, and for the structure of the eye, see Optics and
Anatomy. That which we have to inquire into at
present is, how we learn, by means of the sense of sight,
to perceive the figure, magnitude, motion, and distance
of external objects, or indeed to distinguish one object
from another.
A ray of light proceeding, as all rays do, in a straight
line, must, however great its length, affect the eye,
retina, and optic nerve, as if it were a single point.
From this obvious and undeniable fact, Bishop Berkeley
predicted *, that a man born blind, who should be sud¬
denly made to see, would at first perceive nothing * Essay to*
without him, would distinguish neither the distance, ■
size, figure, nor situation, of external objects j that he 0f Vision."
would only see in his eyes themselves, or, to speak
more properly, would only experience new modifica¬
tions in his mind, until joining touch to sight, he form¬
ed thus a communication with the external world,
and learned, by the simultaneous exercise of the two
senses, that natural language in which the visible is the
sign of the tangible. This truth, which was discover¬
ed by the bishop merely by contemplating in his own
mind the nature of sensation, and the known laws of
optics, after having been laughed at for more than 20
years as one of the many dreams of a visionary genius,
was completely confirmed by the case of the famous
patient whom Cheselden cured of a cataract 5 and that
too, though the cataract does not produce total blind¬
ness : which makes it evident, that the first visual per¬
ceptions of the patient after his recovery could not be
■wholly new and unmixed. It may indeed be confirm¬
ed at any time by a simple experiment made upon an
infant. For several weeks after birth, a child shuts
not its eyes upon the sudden approach of an object
to them, nor shows the least symptom of distinguish¬
ing one distance from another} and it is easy by a
little attention to observe, how it gradually learns to
distinguish objects at greater and greater distances.
Indeed colour, or the immediate object of sight, be¬
ing a mere sensation or affection of the mind, can
have no natural relation whatever to any thing ex¬
ternal. 4s
It is plain, therefore, that distance is in its own na- Perception
ture imperceptible to the eye, and yet it is often per-°^
ceived by sight. Hmv is this done ? Y e think, in }lovv ac,
the following manner. Distance is one mode of ex-quired.
tension, which, we have already seen, is perceived by
means of touch. Of short distances, our first ideas are
doubtless acquired by the stretching out and drawing
back of our arms ; and those ideas are soon so connect¬
ed with certain sensations which we have in actual
vision, that the latter instantly suggests the former.
4 C Thusj
57?
M
E T A P
that when
Ob.ects of Thus, it is a fact known by experience,
the respec- we look at a near object with both eyes, according as
tive Senses. Jt approaches or recedes from us, we alter the dispost-
    ' tion 0f our eyes, by lessening or widening the interval
between the pupils. This disposition or turn of the
eye, is attended with a sensation of which every man
is conscious at the time of vision ; and this sensation
seems to us to be that which in this case suggests
the idea of greater or less distance to the mind. Not
that there is any natural or necessary connexion be¬
tween the sensation of which we are conscious, and
greater or less distance: for the sensation is wholly in¬
ternal, and the distance is external. But because the
mind has, by constant experience, found the different
sensations occasioned by dilferent dispositions of the
eyes to correspond to different degrees of distance in
the object, there has grown a habitual or customary
connexion between those sensations and the notions
of greater or less distance. So that the mind no soon¬
er perceives the sensation arising from the different
turn it gives the eyes in order to bring the pupils
nearer or farther asunder, than it is instantly impressed
with a certain notion of the distance which was wont
to be connected with that sensation. Again, An object
placed at a certain distance from the eye, to which the
breadth of the pupil bears a sensible proportion, be¬
ing made to approach nearer, is seen more coniused-
Iv 5 and the nearer it is brought, the confusion is al¬
ways the greater. The reason of all this is known
to every optician : but it being constantly experienced
by those who never dipt into optics, there arises in the
mind of every man a habitual connexion between the
several degrees of confusion and distance, the greater
confusion still implying the less distance, and the less
confusion the greater distance. It is of no avail to
.say, that between confused vision and distance, great
or small, there is no necessary connection : for there
is as little connexion between a blush in the face and
the mental feeling of shame ; and yet no sooner does a
man of observation perceive that particular colour in
the face of another, than it suggests to him the notion
©f that feeling or passion with which he has constantly
ebserved it accompanied.
In these ways, however, we perceive only small di¬
stances. Of distances more remote our judgment is
formed from other data ; and happily these data are
not far to seek. It is a fact known to every man who
is not totally ignorant of the science of optics, that a
greater number of rays fall upon the eye when reflect¬
ed from a body near at hand, than can fall from the
same body at a distance \ and as those rays operate by
impulse, it is self-evident that the impression must be
stronger, and of course the sensation or colour more
vivid, when the body is near than when it is distant.
Now having acquired the notion of the true distance
of objects by motion and the sense of touch, and find¬
ing by uniform experience, that as they are near or far
off, the sensation or colour which they excite in the
mind through the organ of vision is more or less vivid,
those degrees of sensation come to be so closely associa¬
ted with the respective distances of the object, that the
one instantly suggests the other.
How figure ^’s jLlst 80 that we perceive figure by sight. Ha-
is perceived ving experienced by the sense of touch that one sur-
fey sight, lace is a square and another a circle, that one body is
H Y S I C S. Part]
a cube and another a sphere ; and finding our sense of objects o
sight differently affected by the square and the circle, the respec
by the cube and the sphere j these different affections the Sense j
come to be so closely connected in our minds with the ’
figures of the respective bodies, that long before we
are capable of reasoning on the subject the one is never
present to us without suggesting the other. Nay, so
complete in this case is the connexion or association,
that we cannot even in idea abstract the colour from
the figure ; though it is certain that colour is a mere
sensation, and figure an external quality j that colour
alone is immediately perceivable by the eye, and the no¬
tion of figure suggested by the colour. We are aware
that it has been affirmed, and affirmed with great vehe¬
mence, that figures of two dimensions are immediately
perceived by the eye, and perceived with greater ac¬
curacy than by the sense of touch. But they who in¬
sist upon this doctrine affirm likewise, contrary to ex¬
perience and the clearest reasoning, that the immediate
objects of sight are external, and that colour is a qua¬
lity of bodies. In the arguments too by which they
support their hypothesis, they seem to confound sight
as an affection of the mind, with the picture on the
bottom of the eye, as if the retina were the sentient be¬
ing •, whereas the retina and picture are no more than
instruments of sensation. It is indeed a iact, that the
picture has the same figure nearly with the plane of
the object which is presented to the eye , as when the
object is a sphere, the picture is a circle variously shad¬
ed in colour. It is likewise a fact, that the picture
is enlarged in proportion as the object is brought near,
and diminished as it is carried to a distance. But
these facts are known only to persons skilled in optics 5
and therefore it is evident, that though calculations
may be raised from them by mathematicians to deter¬
mine the distance and figure of external objects, they
cannot possibly be the data from which distance and
figure are inferred by the vulgar, who know not that
such pictures on the retina exist. Besides all this, it
is universally known, that a painter, by laying on his
colours properly, can make a plain square surface ap¬
pear to the eye in certain positions as an oblong or as
a cube, and a plain circular surface as a concave or a
convex hemisphere. But not one ot these things could
possibly be done, were figure, or indeed any thing else
than colour, the immediate object of vision. ^
As we see distance and figure, so we see magnitude ; .
and we see both in the same way that we see shame or
anger in the looks of a man. The impression made
upon the bottom of the eye by rays reflected from a
large magnitude, must necessarily be different from the
impression made by rays reflected from a magnitude
that is less. This is self-evident 5 and since the im¬
pression ab extra is in some way or other the cause of
that sensation, which is all of which we are originally
conscious in vision, it is obvious that the sensation,
like every other effect, must correspond to the cause
from which it proceeds. Being therefore conscious of
different sensations j and having, at an earlier period
than we distinctly remember, learned by experience to
refer them to different magnitudes *, no sooner is each
sensation excited than it suggests the notion, or, if you
please, the perception, of that magnitude with which
it is connected. So completely is this association fixed
in the-mind, that when we look at a known object, its
real
(ap. II. M E T A P H Y S I C S. 5
i. >cts of real magnitude appears to be as instantly observed as ance which we call while. But when these colours Retent
11 respcc- its colour, whilst we hardly attend at all to the par¬
ti Senses.ticularity of the sensation by which the magnitude is
^ suggested. It is, indeed, customary with waiters on
optics to distinguish between tangible and visible mag¬
nitude, as if any kind of magnitude were the immedi¬
ate object of vision : but this is not so : for magnitude
is something external, rvhereas the immediate object of
vision is a mere sensation. What has introduced into
science this mode of speaking. is the following fact,
that as rve approach a distant object it appears to the
eye larger and larger every step, and less and less as we
recede from it; whereas the tangible magnitude of an
object is always the same. The reason of this apparent
change of magnitude to the eye, according to the dis¬
tance at which any particular object is viewed, is, that
from a near object rays of light fall in greater numbers
and more diverging than from the same object viewed
at a distance. This of course alters the nature of the
visible sensation : eacli common sensation is in the mind
closely linked with a particular notion of magnitude 5
and by the exercise of sight and touch we have learned
from experience, that the particular sensation caused by
diverging rays must be referred to a larger magnitude
than that which is caused by parallel rays proceeding
from the same distance.
ble sen- Upon the whole, then, we think ourselves entitled
ons a to conclude, that the proper and original objects of
i^ofna- vision constitute an universal language of the Author
~ of Nature, by which wre are instructed how to regu¬
late our actions, in order to attain those things that
are necessary to the preservation and well-being of- our
bodies, as also to avoid whatever may be hurtful or
destructive to them. It is principally by the informa¬
tion of this language that we are guided in all the trans¬
actions and concerns of life : And the manner in which
it signifies and marks to us the objects which are at a
distance, is similar to that of languages and signs of hu¬
man appointment, which do not suggest the things
signified by any likeness or identity of nature, but
only by a habitual connection, which experience has
made us to observe, between them. This language
of the eye, like the language of the tongue, suggests
by one sensation what may be resolved into a variety
of perceptions. A tree is composed of a trunk,
branches, leaves j it has colour, figure, size ; and all
these things are at once suggested to the mind by the
two words spreading oak. Just so it is with respect to
vision: the sensation received by the eye suggests at
once the trunk, branches, leaves, colour, figure, and si%e
of the oak, and suggests them all as the qualities of one
object.
Chap. II. 0/ Retention and Ideas.
nations From the experiment with the burning coal men-
I percep-tiofted in N° 31, it is apparent, the sensations excited
I is re- through the eye, together with their corresponding
in for a perceptions, remain in the mind for a short time after
ie after ^ie externaI exciting cause is removed. The same
remo- thing appears from another experiment which was first
of their made by Sir Isaac Newton, and which every man may
etcts- repeat for his own satisfaction. It is universally known *,
a ProPer mixture of the seven original colours, red,
yellow, green, blue, &c. constitutes that uniform appear-
are made to pass in a rapid consecution before the eye, and Ide
they excite the very same perception as when they are —v~
properly mixed, which is a satisfactory proof that the
impression made by each separate colour remains in the
brain until a revolution of all the colours he com¬
pleted ; for nothing but the impression of all the co¬
lours at once can produce the sensation and perception
of white. Indeed no person capable of paying the
proper attention to these things, can keep his eye fixed
upon a luminous object, and afterwards shut it, without
experiencing that the sensation and perception remain
for some time after the external object is shut out, and
that they go off gradually till they leave behind them
the mental appearance, which is properly called an idea
of the object.
The same continuance of the sensation after the re¬
moval of its cause is equally observable in the sense of
hearing; for every sound which wre hear is reflected
by the neighbouring bodies $ and therefore consists in
reality of a variety of sounds succeeding each other at
different distances of time, according to the distances of
the several reflecting bodies. A ct this causes no con¬
fusion or apparent complexity of sound, unless when the
distance of the reflecting bodies is very considerable, as
in spacious buildings.
AYkh respect to the continuance of the sensation of
touch, doubts have been started : but for these there
is as little room as for doubting the continuance of the
sensations of seeing and hearing. The continuance of
heat after the heating body is removed, and of the
smart of a wound after the instant of infliction, are
proofs that every sensation of touch does not vanish
with its cause. A man unused to the motion of a
ship or coach, after having been a day at sea or on
the road, feels or imagines he feels the rolling of the
ship or the jolting of the coach after he is in bed and
actually at rest. Of these facts we know not what
other account can he given, than that the agitation in
the brain, which is the immediate cause of the sensa¬
tion of touch, remains for some time after the external
cause of the agitation is removed.
As to the senses of taste and smell, Dr Hartley
seems to think that there is no clear and direct evi¬
dence for the continuance of their sensations after their
proper objects are removed ; but in this instance the in¬
genious author does not do justice to his own theory.
Let any man eat onions, garlic, or any other thing of
a very pungent taste, and immediately wash his mouth
with fresh water, so that he may be sure no part of
the sapid body remains on his tongue or palate. Ac¬
cording to this doctrine, the taste of the onion or garlic
should instantly vanish with its object; but the fact is
otherwise. YY hoever shall make the experiment, will
find the sensation to remain a considerable time : not
indeed in its original force, but weakened no more
than what it must necessarily be by the introduction of
a new sensation excited by the water. It is more diffi¬
cult to ascertain the permanency of smell : but analogy
inclines us to believe, that in this particular it resembles
the other senses, though we know not how to direct the
reader to an experiment which will give him absolute
conviction.
YVhether the cause of these continued sensations, af¬
ter the removal of their objects, be in the brain alone,
4 C 2 in
53
Hence we
have that
power or
faculty cal¬
led me¬
mory.
* See An
J'.ssaij o?i
the Reduc¬
tion of the
Faculties
o f the
Mind, by
31. Schwab.
54
The opi¬
nions ofphi.
losophers
respecting
memory.
55
The Peri¬
patetics
and Platon
ists
M ETA P
in the mind alone considered as an immaterial being,
or in both together, is of very little importance} be¬
cause, taking the mind and its internal organs as one
metaphysical whole*, it matters not to our present in¬
quiry, where this retentive power resides, as long as
it can be proved to exist within us : for it seems evi¬
dent, that what has the faculty of retaining a sensa¬
tion when no longer acted upon by the object which
excited it, must also have a power to preserve the
vestiges of that sensation even after the sensation itseli
shall be entirely obliterated. rIhis is in iact the case
with the mind. When an object which we have once
perceived is most remote from our thoughts, we are
certain that there is within us a capacity, disposition,
tendency, or power, by which a representation of that
object may be at any time revived and presented to the
intellect. Thus the same inherent power of the mind
and its internal organs, which retains a sensation and
perception in the absence of the object by which they
Avere excited, can also reproduce that perception, or
bring into the vieiv of the intellect something exactly
similar to it. The reproduction will not indeed be so
lively as the original perception when accompanied
Avith its corresponding sensation, because sensation and
actual perception are affected by a double cause, the
action of the external object upon the organ, nerves,
and brain, and the corresponding energy of the mind
or sentient principle ; Avhereas, in the reproduction,
the mind seems to act solely by its own power, and
certainly Avithout the assistance of external objects.
This reproductive poiver is commonly called memory.
By many of the ancient philosophers, and by M.
Schwab, Avith one or tAATo others among the moderns,
it is called imagination. We do not choose either to
revive antiquated modes of expression, or to introduce
innovations of our own ; but as avc cannot disapprove
of the ancient phraseology, after the definitions which
the reader Avill by and by find of imagination, memory,
and recollection, as given by Mr Harris, avc have pre¬
fixed to this chapter the general title of retention, which
comprehends them all.
When one recals an object of sight by the poA\Ter of
. memory, it appears to him precisely the same as in the
original survey, only hess distinct, and Avith a convic¬
tion (Avhich is perhaps the result of experience) that
the real object is not immediately before him. How
is an object recalled by the power of memory ? Does
the man endeavour to form in his mind a picture or
representative image of the object P Let us listen to
the answers given by different philosophers to this
question.
The sentiments of the Peripatetics, as expressed by
Alexander Aphrodisiensis, one of the earliest commenta-
- tors on Aristotle, are thus translated by Mr Harris in
his Hermes.—“ Noav, Avhat fancy or imagination is,
we may explain as follows : We may concede to be
formed within us, from the operation of the senses
about sensible objects, some impression (as it were),
H Y S 1 C S. Part
or picture in our original sensor!urn, being a relict of Retenti
that motion caused Avithin us by the external object •, and Idc
a relict which, when the external object is no longer' r*
present, remains, and is still preserved, being as it Avere
its image j and which, by being thus preserved, be¬
comes the cause of our having memory. Noav such
a sort of relict, (and as it were) impression, they call
fancy or imagination (k).” A passage from Alci-
NOUS of the doctrines of Plato, as rendered into Eng¬
lish by Dr Heidi, sIioavs that, in this theory, as in thatf EssaT
of perception, the Platonists agreed with the Peri- the Mai
patetics. “ When the form or type of things is im-
printed on the mind by the organs of the senses, fff1
and so imprinted as not to be deleted by time, but
preserved firm and lasting, its preservation is called
memofyP
Mr Harris, rvho Avas deeply read in the ancient
philosophy, and Avho considered the authority of Ari¬
stotle and Plato as superseding all reasoning and all
inquiry, after justly observing, that if the soul had no
other faculties than the senses, it could never acquire
the least idea of time, thus expresses himself on the
subject before us : “ But, happily for us, we are not
deserted here. We have, in the first place, a faculty
called imagination or fancy ; which, hoAvcver as to its
energies it may be subsequent to sense, yet is truly prior
to it both in dignity and use. This it is Avhich retains
the fleeting forms of things, when things themselves are
gone, and cdl sensation is at an end. That this faculty,
hoAArever connected with sense, is still perfectly differ¬
ent, may be seen from hence. We have an imagination
of things that are gone and extinct; but no such things
can be made objects of sensation. We have an easy
command over the objects of our imagination, and can
call them forth in almost Avhat manner we please ; but
our sensations are necessary Avhen their objects are pre¬
sent, nor can avc controul them but by removing either
the objects or ourselves. As Avax would not be ade¬
quate to its business of signature, had it not a poAver
to retain, as Avell as receive } the same holds of the
soul, Avith respect to sense and imagination. Sense is
its receptive poAver: imagination its retentive. Had
it sense Avithout imagination, it Avould not be as Avax
but as Avater; where, though all impressions may be in¬
stantly made, yet as soon as made they are entirely lost.
Thus then, from a view of the Iavo poAvers taken toge¬
ther, avc may call sense (if Ave please), a kind of tran¬
sient imagination ; and imagination, on the contrary,
a kind of permanent sense.'” f ,
Great part of the office which is here given to ima-^istin?'
gination, is in common English attributed to me-jJct^,ee
niory ; but betAveen these Iavo faculties, as Avell as be-imagin
tween them and recollection, the author accurately tion an
distinguishes thus :—“ When wre vicav some relict ofmem01
sensation reposed within us, without thinking oj its risef0'
or referring it to any sensible object, this is FANCY or ima¬
gination. When avc vieAV some such relict, and re¬
fer it withal to that sensible object ivhich in time past was
its
(c) The original is as follows : Ti tcivvv h tyctfioMrict «§£ aty yyu^nrxip.iv nuv ey ypiv utvo tmv ruv rig*
m cucrd^TX, otilt Tifyrov Tivot. m re.) ctufQviTvjgiM, i'/x.ocrxMippci n t»j$ utto tov xicQiflev yiyepirtig )ur/i<ri0S, o
X.CU (ttJjJcsn Toy oj/o-^tov Trecgoflog, VTCopivu re xxt cruCprx), ey mumguxm rtg ccvjo-j, ey xxi rrig pvrtftyg vpiv trafyptvov afltet ytiirm
to roiovloy iy>td\xXittup,x, tun rot rmvrov rv-xvt, 'fetflterteir tcecXevrn. Alex. Aphrod. de Anima, p. 135. Edit. Aid.
(ap. II. M E T A P
I-ntion its came and original, this is MEMORY. Lastly, the
8 Itleas. road which leads to memory through a series of ideas
l  ' however connected, whether rationally or casually, this
;7 is recollection.”
0 ctions Of this theory we shall only remark, that if we could
to ;‘r understand the words picture and form in a metaphori-
^ ^ cal sense, as candour obliges us to understand Locke’s
images in the mind, the doctrine of Alexander Aphro-
disiensis would be very little wide of the truth. Ex¬
perience teaches us that memory as well as perception
depends upon the state of the brain ) and as it is unde¬
niable, that when a man to-day contemplates an object
which he perceived yesterday, or at any former period,
he has a view of it in all respects similar to the original
perception, only fainter and less distinct, it is extremely
probable, that an impression ab extra, which produces
a sensation and perception, leaves behind it some ten¬
dency in the brain, to vibrate as in the actual sensa¬
tion, and that this tendency is carried into effect by the
internal energy of the mind itself. But in the Pei'i-
patetic philosophy, pictures and forms in the sensorium
were considered as real things, and by no means as me¬
taphorical expressions. This is evident from their be¬
ing constantly compared to the impression of a seal up¬
on wax, and from their converting the materia prima
from something, which can neither be seen nor felt,
into visible and tangible body, of which wre shall treat
afterwards. Now it being certain that on a being im¬
material, no corporeal form can be impressed, and re¬
peated dissections having shown that no such forms are
in fact impressed on the brain, this whole theory is at
58 once overturned.
se’s Modern philosophers having denied that there are
1 m1j- real images or forms in the mind during the imme-
t orv diate act of perception, cannot consistently with them¬
selves admit such images in the act of retention, or
when those things which were formerly objects of
perception are recalled to the mind by the powrer of
memory. Mr Locke’s doctrine is, “ that the mind
retains these simple ideas which it first received from
sensation or reflection, two ways : first, by keeping the
idea, which is brought into it, for some time actually
in view, which is called CONTEMPLATION : and second¬
ly, by the power which we have to revive again in
our minds those ideas, which, after imprinting, have
disappeared, or have been, as it were, laid out ot
sight *, as when we conceive heat or light, yellow or
sweet, the object being removed. This (he says) is
MEMORY } which is, as it ivere, the storehouse of our
* isay, ideas *.
1 ii. To explain this more fully, he immediately adds the
1 ■I0* following observation :—“ But our ideas being no¬
thing but actual perceptions in the mind, which cease
to be any thing where there is no perception of them,
this laying up of our ideas in the repository of the
memory, signifies no more than this, that the mind
has a power in many cases, to revive perceptions
which it has once had, with this additional percep¬
tion annexed to them, that it has had them before.
And in this sense it is, that our ideas are said to be
in our memories, when indeed they are actually no¬
where •, but only there is an ability, in the mind, when
it will, to revive them again, and, as it were, paint
them anew on itself, though some with more some
with less difficulty, some more lively and others more
H Y S I C S. 57.3
obscurely. And thus it is, by the assistance of this Retention
faculty, that we are said to have all those ideas in our and Ideas,
understandings, which, though we do not actually con-' V" ■J
template them, yet we' can bring in sight, and make
appear again, and be the objects of our thoughts, with¬
out the help of those sensible qualities which first im¬
printed them there.”
To attempt a defence of the accuracy of this lan¬
guage would be vain ; but as the author’s meaning is
sufficiently obvious, his expressions may be easily and
certainly corrected. Had Locke said—“ But our
ideas being nothing but scenes or appearances in the
mind, which cease to be any thing when there is no
perception of them, thus laying up of our ideas in the
repository of the memory signifies no more but this,
that the mind has a power, in many cases, to revive
scenes which it has once viewed, with this additional
perception annexed to them, that it has viewed them
before there would have been no room for the many
petulant remarks which have been made upon the pas-
sage. _ _ . . 59
But against this account of memory, a much heavier objected to*-
charge has been brought than that which regards the
propriety of the language. It has been said, that the
additional perception, which according to Locke, at¬
tends the revival of our ideas by the power of me¬
mory, “ would be a fallacious perception, if it led
us to believe that we had them before, since they can¬
not have two beginnings of existence : nor can w7e
believe them to have two beginnings of existence 5 we
can only believe that we had formerly ideas or percep¬
tions very like to them, though not identically the
same.” Let us examine this question somewhat nar¬
rowly : for if it be really true, that in the sense in
which the word same is here used, w'e cannot twice con¬
template the same idea, all confidence in memory would
seem to be at an end. 6o
Suppose a man to stand on some of the rising The objee-
grounds about Edinburgh, the Caltonhill for instance, tion obvi-
and from that eminence to view the glorious prospect atc(*‘
of the coast of Fife, the ocean, the frith of Forth,
and the little islands scattered in the frith. Let him
go away, and return next day to the same place and
look the same way : we would ask whether he has
the same view or perception which he had the day be¬
fore P The man must surely be very captious who
would say that he has not: and yet it is certain that the
energy of mind by which he perceives on one day7 can¬
not be identically the same with that by which he
perceived on another •, nor are the rays of light which
fall upon his eyes on the second day, identically the
same with those which fell upon his eyes and occa¬
sioned vision on the first day. Let the same man now
shut his eyes, and contemplate the various objects at
which he had been just looking. They will appear
to him in all respects the same as when viewed by
means of his organs of sight, only fainter and less di¬
stinct, with this additional conviction, that the imme¬
diate objects of his present contemplation are not real
external things, but ideas or mental representations of
those things which had so lately been the objects of his
sight. Let him think no more about the matter for
some days, and then exert his poivers of memory. We
have no hesitation to say, that in the sense of the word
same, as used by Mr Locke, the very same ideas will
recur
;74-
JRetcntion
-and Ideas,
61
The opi¬
nion of
Hume.
M E T A P
recur and be present to bis intellect which were pre¬
sent to it at the former contemplation. The second
energy of memory or imagination, or whatever it may
he called, is not indeed identically the same with the
first; nor is that agitation or motion, or whatever
other affection of the brain is necessary to memory,
identically the same at the second time as at the first :
but the mind exerting itself in the very same manner
at the one time as at the other, produces the same
kind of agitation in the brain, and is itself affected in
the very same way at the second as at the first exei-
tion. Whence it follows, that the second ideal scene
will be as much the same with the first, as the second
actual perception is the same with the first, and the two
ideal scenes, and the two actual perceptions, are re¬
spectively said to be the same with each other, only
because they impress the mind with a conviction that
they were occasioned by the same external objects.
But though we think Locke’s doctrine, with re¬
spect to memory, may be thus easily vindicated from
the charge of fallaciousness, we must acknowledge that
to us it appears not to be of much value. It teaches
nothing, but that the mind has a poiver to retain ideas
of those objects which it formerly perceived, and in
many instances to recal them as occasion may require.
But these are truths known to all mankind, to the
clown as well as to the philosopher.
Philosophers in general have paid less regard to the
retentive faculties of the mind than to its original
powers of perception. Perhaps they imagined, that
as memory depends upon perception, and in some re¬
spects appears to resemble it, a competent knowledge
of the nature of the former faculty would lead to that
of the second. Be this as it may, Mr Hume, who was
at some pains to detail his notions of perception, has
in his Philosophical Essays only dropt concerning me¬
mory and imagination a few hints, so loosely thrown
together, that, if he had not elsewhere expressed him¬
self with more precision, it would have been difficult
to discover his real meaning. According to him, that
which is commonly called the perception of an external
object, is nothing but a strong impression upon the
mind ; and that which is called the remembrance of a
past object, is nothing but a present*impression or idea
weaker than the former. Imagination is an idea weak¬
er than the idea or impression which he calls memory.
This , seems to be a wonderful abuse of language. Im¬
pressions are not perceptions •, and, if possible, they can
still less be called ideas, which are but secondary per¬
ceptions. It is likewise far from being true, that an
idea of imagination has necessarily less vivacity than
an idea of memory. We have seen Mr Hume, and
have at the present moment an idea of his form and
dress : wre can likewise imagine to ourselves a centaur j
and though a centaur was never seen, and therefore
II Y S I C S. Part
cannot be an impression repeated by memory, our idea Reteniil
of the monster is much more lively and distinct than and Mel
that of the philosopher. _ _ '
Dr Reid having observed of memory *, that it is byof
it we have an immediate knowledge of things past j Reid,
that it must have an object ; that in this respect it a- * R'waA
grees with perception, but differs from sensation, which A
has no object but the feeling itself; and that every p0l^j
man can distinguish the thing remembered from the Man.
remembrance of it—rproceeds to.inquire what memory
is. And, “ First (says he), I think it appears that
memory is an original faculty given us by the Author
of our being, of which we can give no account but
that we are so made. The knowledge, (continues he)
which I have of things past by my memory, seems to
me as unaccountable as an immediate knowledge wrould
be of things to come (f) ; and I can give no reason
why I should have the one and not the other, but that
such is the will of my Maker. I find in my mind a
distinct conception and a firm belief of a series of past
events j but how this is produced I know not. I call
it memory; but this is only giving a name to it •, it is
not an account of its cause. I believe most firmly what
I distinctly remember } but I can give no reason of this
belief. It is the inspiration of the Almighty which
gives me this understanding. When I believe the truth
of a mathematical axiom or of a mathematical propo¬
sition, I see that it must be so: every man who has tlse
same conception of it sees the same. There is a ne¬
cessary and an evident connection between the subject
and the predicate of the proposition j and I have all
the evidence to support my belief which I can possibly
, conceive. When I believe that I washed my hands and
face this morning, there appears no necessity in the
truth of the proposition. It might be or it might not
be. A man may distinctly conceive it without be¬
lieving it at all. How then do I come to believe it ?
I remember it distinctly. This is all I can say. Tins
remembrance is an act of my mind. Is it impossible
that this act should be, if the event had not happened ?
I confess I do not see any necessary connexion, be¬
tween the one and the other. If any man can show
such a necessary connexion, then I think that belief
which we have of what we remember will be fairly ac¬
counted for: but if this cannot be done, that belief is
unaccountable ; and wre can say no more than that it is
the result of our constitution. Our original faculties
are all unaccountable : Of these memory, is one. He
only who made them comprehends fully Jiow they are
made, and how they produce in us not only a concep¬
tion, but a firm belief and assurance, of things which
it concerns us to know.”
On this account of memory we shall make no re¬
marks. There is a certain sense of the words, in which
every thing which the author has said on the subject is
undoubtedly
(f) If memory depends upon the state of the brain as it has been affected in past perceptions, this appears
to us a strange position. Perhaps the excellent author means nothing more, than that it is as unaccount-
• able to us, that impressions on the brain should cause perception, and the vestiges of those impressions should
- cause remembrance, as how the mind might not perceive things to come without the intervention of impres¬
sions on the brain. If this be the meaning, no man will controvert it: for it is impossible to discover the nature
of that relation which subsists between an impression and perception \ but that there is such a relation, we know
-from experience. 2
ip. II.
it;on undoubtedly just ; and it would be very uncandid to
leas, take bis words in any other sense. But though me-
' mory, as it is the result of that constitution which was
given us by God, and not the offspring of habit or
human contrivance, is unquestionably an original fa¬
culty ; and though it is therefore impossible to account
for it so fully as to silence every inquiry which may be
made, yet we could wish that Dr Reid had bestowed
a little more pains upon it, in order to discover if pos¬
sible in what respects it resembles or differs from per¬
ception. He has well observed, that there are laws of
nature by which the operations of the mind are regu¬
lated, as well as laws of nature which govern the ma¬
terial system. As the latter are the ultimate conclu¬
sions which the human faculties can reach in the phi¬
losophy of bodies, so the former are the ultimate con¬
clusions which we can reach in the philosophy of
minds. The more general that these laws are in both
cases, the more useful they are and the more satisfac¬
tory : for as they are themselves inexplicable, the
fewer they are in number, and the more comprehensive
each, the fewer will those phenomena be for which we
can give no account. Thus, as we know not what
makes the planets tend to the centre of the sun, or
heavy bodies tend to the centre of the earth, we Can
give no other account of these phenomena, but that, as
they appear to be of the same kind, it is reasonable to
conclude that they proceed from similar causes. What
the cause is of this tendency of bodies towards each
other, we know not. We call it gravitation, and em¬
ploy it to account for all phenomena of the same kind.
In like manner it is universally allowed, that as wre
know not how mind and matter operate upon each
other, there is something in perception wholly unac¬
countable. That perception follows sensation } and
that there is no sensation which is not occasioned by
some affection of the brain, proceeding from some im¬
pression ab extra ; we have the evidence of experience :
but how a particular affection of the brain should ex¬
cite a sensation in the mind, we know not; though wre
may here, as in the corporeal system, attribute similar
effects to the same or similar causes. Thus, if when
we exert an act of memory we have the same appear¬
ance of things as in the original act of perception, the
rules of philosophizing authorize us to refer both phe¬
nomena to the same general law } just as they autho¬
rize us to i‘efer the motion of the planets and of pro¬
jectiles to the same general law. On the other hand,
if we perceive no similarity between memory and per¬
ception, we have made no progress in the philosophy
of mind ; for in that case Ave have discovered two phe¬
nomena proceeding from two causes totally different
from each other, and both inexplicable. Although we
scarcely hope to throw any light upon a subject which
Dr Reid has not attempted to illustrate, we shall state
a few facts respecting the memory, and submit to the
575;
reader the conclusions to which tve think these facts Retention
lead. and Ideas.
1. Objects once perceived by the senses, when re- ' J
called to the mind by the power of memory, appearTj,c ajj_
precisely the same as in the original perception, onlypearance of
less distinct*. For example, having seen yesterday a sensible ob-
spreading oak growing on the bank of a river, and jf;cts)wjK'u
having heard a shepherd play, and handled a square
stone, we endeavour to recal to our mind these objects0f jogmofy.
which are now absent. How is this operation per- * Appendix
formed ? Do we endeavour to form in our minds pic-to ^te-
tures of them or representative images ? or, does our11™1}}?
intellect survey the types or forms which, according
to Aristotle, those objects left in the imagination when
originally perceived ? Neither of these things is done.
We conceive ourselves as standing in the same place
where we stood yesterday; upon which we have per¬
ceptions of the objects similar in all respects to the
perceptions which we had when we employed our eyes,
our ears, and our hands. The tree appears, as it were,
before us; faint indeed, but attended with all the ob¬
jects which we observed around it yesterday : we seem
to hear the sound of the pipe confusedly, and at a dis¬
tance 5 to move our hands over the stone, and to feel
the same surfaces and the same angles which Ave felt
in the original perception. In this recollection Ave are ,
not conscious of pictures or images more than in the
original survey. The perceptions seem to be of the
tree and river themselves, of the sound itself, and of
the stone itself, exactly as at the first } and yet Ave are-
satisfied that in the act of remembrance we perceive no
such object as a real tree, pipe, or stone. That these
are facts, every man must be convinced who attends to
the energies of his own mind when exerting the poAvers
of retention : and therefore it is, in our opinion, Avitb
no impropriety that Mr Harris says, avo may call SENSE,
if Ave please, a kind of transient imagination ; and ima¬
gination, on the contrary, a kind ofpermanent' sense $
for if these tAVO faculties, as far as the mind or intellect
is concerned, be not the same, they seem to resemble
each other much. ^ .
2. The primary perception of a visible object is morcyyjlflt
complete, lively, and distinct, and remains longer in remain
the sensorium than that of any other object. We longest in
knoAV likeAvise by experience, that an idea or secondaryt,ie me-
perception of a visible object is as much more complete,m(>1'’
lively, and distinct, than the idea of any other object,
as Avas the primary perception ; and that Ave remember
things Avhich avc have seen for a longer time than
sounds Avhich Ave have heard, or than tangible objects
which Ave have only handled. Yet there seems to be
a constant decay of all our ideas, even of those Avhich
are struck (g) deepest and in minds the most retentive y
so that if they be not frequently renewed by repeated
exercise of the senses, or by reflection on those objects
which at first occasioned them, the print (g) wears
out,
METAPHYSIC S,
(g) These expressions, Avhich mention ideas as things which are deep struck, and as prints which wear
out, are the expressions of Locke. We hope it is needless to Avarn our readers, that they are used by
us, as they were by him, in a metaphorical sense. On these subjects it is impossible to Avrite wit rout me¬
taphor', Avhich, Avhile the meaning is obvious, no man Avill condemn, who reflects that the words o an-
guage Avere not invented by metaphysicians, and are for the most part literally significant only oi semi > e
objects.
S?6
M E T A P
Retention out, and at last there remains nothing to be seen,
and Ideas. Concerning ideas, it is easy to remark, that tnose re-
^ v Vain longest and clearest in the memory which are
derived from two or more senses, especially if the sense
of sight be one of the number, or which are oftenest
refreshed by a return of the objects which produced
them. Hence a man has a longer and more distinct
remembrance of what he has seen than of what he has
only heard, of what he has both seen and felt than of
•what he has only seen j and the ideas which we have
of heat and cold, of hunger and thirst, and of all those
things which most frequently affect our senses, are ex¬
tremely clear, and are never quite lost whilst the mind
retains any ideas at all.
3. Memory appears to be a kind of habit, which is
not always in exercise with regard to things wre re¬
member, but is ready to suggest them when there is
occasion. The most perfect degree of this habit is,
when the thing presents itself to our remembrance
spontaneously, add without labour, as often as there
is occasion. A second degree is, when the thing is
forgotten for a longer or shorter time, even when there
is occasion to remember it, and yet at last some inci¬
dent, such as a violent passion *, which agitates the
whole mind and sensorium, tumbles the idea, as it
were, out of its dark corner, and brings it into view
65
Memory a
kind of ha-
t>it.
* Reid’s
Essays on
the Intel-
^Powers of without any search. A third degree is, when we cast
' about coarrVi for what wp Tvnnlfl rempmher. and
H Y S I C S. Part
By these means all the parts of the simultaneous im- Rctentii
pression *, and consequently of the perception occa- and IdJI
sioned by that impression, are so intimately associated -v-i
or linked together, that the idea of any one of them
recurring at any future period, generally introduces0”
the ideas of all the rest. But as the necessary parts
and properties of any thing are more closely linked
together, and occur more frequently than any parti¬
cular variable adjuncts, it is obvious, that by the idea
of any one of these properties, the idea of the rest,
and of the object itself, will be more readily introdu¬
ced than by the idea of any variable adjunct. It
seems, however, to be certain, that we have no power
of calling up any idea at pleasure, but only such as
have a connexion, either in nature or by means of
former associations, with those that are at any time
present to the mind. Thus the sight, or the idea, of
any particular person, generally enables us to recol¬
lect his name, because his name and his person have
been constantly associated together. If that fail to
introduce the name, we are at a loss and cannot re¬
collect it at all till some other associated circumstance
help us. In naming a number of words in a sentence,
or lines in a poem, the end of each preceding ■word or
line being connected with the beginning of the word
or line which succeeds it, we can easily repeat them
in that order ; but we are not able to repeat them
Man,
and Hat
ris’s Her¬
mes.
66
idea sug¬
gests an¬
other, and
why
and search for what we would remember, and
Locke’s Es- after some labour find it out. This searching faculty
sal/, &c. 0f thg SCjU} {s by Aristotle called by Dr Reid
and others reminiscence, and by Mr Harris recollection.
Should it be said, that what we will to remember we
must already conceive, as we can will nothing of which
tve have not a conception 5 and that, therefore, a will
to remember a thing, seems to imply that we remember
it already—we answer, with Dr Reid, that when we
will to remember a thing, we must indeed remember
something relating to it \ but we may have no positive
idea or conception of the thing itself, but only of the
relation which it bears to that other thing which we do
remember. Thus, one remembers that a friend char¬
ged him with a commission to be executed at such a
place, but he has forgotten what the commission was.
He applies himself to discover it; and recollects that it
was given by such a person, upon such an occasion, in
consequence of such a conversation: and thus by a train
ot thought he is led to the very thing which he had
forgotten and wished to remember. To this operation
it is not always necessary that the relations between the
various ideas which the mind turns over be very close,,
or have their foundation in nature •, for a casual con¬
nexion is often sufficient. Thus, from seeing a garment,
we think of its owner; thence of his habitation ; thence
of woods; thence of timber •, thence of ships; thence
of admirals j thence of cannons, iron, furnaces, and for¬
ges,” &c.
In recollec- That, in the process of recollection, one idea should
uon one suggest another, may be easily accounted for. When,
in perception, our minds are exposed to the influence
of external objects,, all the parts and properties, and
even the accidental variable adjuncts of these objects,
are perceived by full-grown men at the same time ; so
that the whole group makes hut one impression upon
our organs of sense, and consequently upon the mind.
I
6?
backwards with any ease, nor at all till after many
fruitless efforts. By frequent trials, however, we ac¬
quire at last a facility in doing it, as may be found by
making the experiment on the names of number from
one to twenty. It is indeed, probable, that in the
wildest flights of fancy, no single idea occurs to us
but such as had a connexion with some other idea,
perception, or notion, previously existing in the
mind, as shall be shown more fully in a subsequent
chapter.
4. “ Memory appears to depend entirely or chiefly memory
upon the state of the brain d. 1’ or diseases, concussions depends|
of the brain, spirituous liquors, and some poisons, im- ^ statf
pair or destroy it; and it generally returns again with j”
the return of health, from the .use ol proper medicines Qn ^fl;|
and methods. It is observable, too, that in recovering
from concussions and other disorders of the brain, it is
usual for the person to recover the power of remem¬
bering the then present common incidents for minutes,
hours, and days, by degrees •, also the power of recal¬
ling the events of his life preceding his illness. At
length he recovers this last power perfectly ; and at
the same time forgets almost all that past in his illness,
even those things which at first he remembered for a
day or two. Now the reason of this seems to be, that
upon a perfect recovery the brain recovers its natural
state, and all its former affections and tendencies ; hut
that such affections or tendencies as took place during
the preternatural state, i. e. during the patient’s illness,
are obliterated by the return of the natural state.”
All this we are induced to believe *, because, though
it is a fact incontrovertible, that in certain diseases the
memory is impaired, and recovers its vigour with the
return of health, it is not conceivable that the mind
itself should suffer any change by diseases, concussions,
or spirituous liquors, &c.
From these facts we are strongly inclined to con-
elude*.
till
l: i-
(ap. II. META P
ention elude, that the power of the mind, or immaterial (h)
Ideas, principle, by which it remembers past events, differs not
from that by which it perceives present objects. In
perception, impressions are made upon the organs of
sense, which are communicated to the brain j and, by
some unknown means, occasion sensations which are
followed by the perception of the external object.
1( > tome \yjjen by the power of memory we recal past objects
" ^tbe0^ sense> ^ie mind has the same view of them as in the
original perception, except that they appear fainter,
less distinct, and generally more distant. We have,
therefore, reason to conclude, that in the act of re¬
membrance the brain is affected in the same way,
though not so forcibly, as in perception. That me¬
mory depends as much as perception upon the state of
the brain, is confirmed by daily experience j and
therefore there cannot be a doubt but that external
objects, operating upon the senses, nerves, and brain,
leave some permanent effect behind them. What that
effect precisely is vre cannot know, and v/e need not
desire to know; but that they leave some effect we
have as good evidence as that the planets are moved
round the sun by forces of the same kind with those
by which projectiles are moved on the earth. Could
we suppose that they leave real prints or impressions be¬
hind them, which we confess to be very little probable,
memory would seem to be nothing but the perceptive
power of the mind turned to those impressions. If the
permanent effect of impressions by external objects be,
as Dr Hartley supposes, only a tendency in the brain
to vibrate as in the original perception, remembrance
will result from the mind’s operating upon the brain
as in actual perception j and the reason that ideas of
memory are fainter than perceptions of sense, is, that
the former are produced by a single, and the latter by a
double, operation.
This theory appears to be greatly confirmed by the
following well known facts, that children soon com-
mcestomit to their memory any thing which they under-
then1’ stan^’ ani^ as soon f°rget i that the powers of me-
lualjy mory gradually advance to perfection, and then gra¬
ys. dually decay and that old men remember more di¬
stinctly what they perceived in their youth, than what
thev perceived a year ago. For if the memory be¬
longed wholly to the pure intellect, and had no de¬
pendence upon the brain, it is not easy to conceive
how it should advance towards a state of perfection
and afterwards decay. A being which is unextended
and indivisible, can suffer no change either in its es¬
sence or in its faculties: the ideas which it had once
retained, it would retain for ever. But if memory be
occasioned by some relict of sense left in the brain, it
is easy to see how all those changes should take place:
and therefore, though we have the weight of Dr
Reid’s authority against us, we cannot help thinking
that Aristotle was in the right, when he imputed the
shortness of memory in children to this cause, that
Vol. XIII. Part II.
h
y the
iory
H Y S I C S. 577
their brain is too moist and soft to retain impressions Retention
made upon it j and that he was likewise in the right, and Ideas,
when he imputed the defect of memory in old men to 111 ' S'-***1
the hardness and rigidity of the brain, which hinders
it from receiving any durable impression.
Another argument to prove, that in remembrance,
the mind acts upon something left in the brain by
the impressions of sense, is this, that nothing can act
but where it is present. The truth of this axiom is
acknovdedged by Dr Reid, and ure believe by all man¬
kind except Dr Priestley and one or turn others,
w'hose paradoxes v'c shall consider afterwards. Now
it is confessed, that in recollection at least the mind is
active ; and therefore it must act, not upon an object
which has novT perhaps no existence, and certainly no
immediate existence, but upon something left by that
object in the brain or sensorium, to which the mind is
intimately present.
But if this be so, wre may be asked how it comes By what,
to pass that men never confound memory with percep-means we
tion, nor fancy that they perceive things which aeTC|'c0^n"
they onlv remember? If perception be an inference irory
drawn from certain sensations excited by an impres- perception,
sion on the brain, and if remembrance result from the
mind’s operating upon relicts of those impressions, one
would think it natural to suppose, that in both cases
wre have actual perceptions, though in the one case
the perception must be more vivid and distinct than in
the other. To this we answer, That previous to all
experience, perception and memory are very probably
confounded ; and that we believe a man brought into
the world with all his faculties in their full natu¬
ral perfection, would not instantly be able to distin¬
guish what he remembered from what he perceived.
This we know to be the case with respect to imagi¬
nation, a faculty which strongly resembles memory 5
for in dreams, and sometimes even in waking reveries,
Wre fancy actually" that We perceive things which it is
certain we can only imagine. A very short experi¬
ence, however, would enable this newly created man
to make the proper distinction between remembrance
and perception. For let us suppose him to be brought
into a dark room, and soon afterwards a candle to be
introduced. The candle would give him a visible sen¬
sation, though not at first the perception of an exter¬
nal object. Let the candle after some time be car¬
ried out: the man would retain a visible idea, which
he might confound with the actual sensation. But if,
whilst this idea remained in his mind, the candle wrere
brought back, he would instantly feel a difference be¬
tween the real sensation and the idea, when both wrere
together present in his mind. And having, in some
such manner as w’e have already described, acquired the
powrer of perceiving external objects byr means of his
senses, lie would soon discover, without any effort of his
own, the difference between actual perceptions and the
ideas treasured up in his memory,
f 4 D 4 The
(h) Through the whole of this and the preceding chapters, we have taken it for granted, that the sentient
principle in man is not material. This is the common, and, as shall be shown afterwards, the most probable opi¬
nion: but whether it be absolutely certain or not, makes no difference on the theories of sensation and percep¬
tion, These are obviously neither figure nor motion, and the refore not subject to the laws which govern the
material world.
57 8
M E T A P
Jletention The only remaining difficulty which seems to en-
an:l Ideas, cumber this theory of remembrance, is, to account for
'   ' t.he order of succession in which objects recur to the
The o-der memory> an^ to we giye tlie name of time.-—
o/succes- But this difficulty will vanish when we have ascertain-
sion in ed what time is. At present it is sufficient to observe,
which ob- that our perceptions of external objects remain a cer-
t' ^th sPace time in the mind ; that this time is diller-
niory ' ent, according to the strength and other circumstan¬
ces of the impression which occasioned the perception ;
and that traces of those perceptions, i. e. ideas, may be
recalled after the intervention of other trains of ideas,
and at very different intervals. If one look upon a
house, and then shut his eyes, the impression which it
made upon his mind will not instantly vanish : he can
contemplate the house almost as long as he pleases; and,
by the help of various associated circumstances, he may
recal the idea several years afterwards, and refer it to
72 the original perception.
■Bruteshave Before we dismiss the subject of retention, it may
memory, not be improper to take notice of the retentive powers
of inferior animals. Aristotle, Locke, Dr Keid, and
almost every philosopher of eminence both among the
ancients and moderns, have maintained, that inferior
animals have memory as well as men and indeed w7e
do not perceive how the fact can be denied of the more
perfect animals, and those with whose operations we
are best acquainted. A dog knows his master again
after a long absence ; a horse will trace back a road
which he has but once travelled, often with more ac¬
curacy than his rider} and it is well known that many
species of singing birds have a capacity to learn tunes
from the human voice, and that they repeat the notes
again and again, approaching nearer and nearer to
perfection, till at last they sing the tune correctly.
M hese phenomena can be accounted for only by sup?
posing, that in the brains of the several animals traces
are left by perception, of the same kind with those
which perception leaves in the brain of man, and which
are the cause or occasion of his remembrance. With
respect to this point, the learned author of Ancient
Metaphysics differs from his master Aristotle. He al¬
lows that brutes have imagination, but denies that
they have memory : for (says he) “ memory necessa¬
rily implies a sense of time, and what is first and last;
but brutes have no idea ot time, or of first and last y
and it is certain that they have not consciousness or
reflection, by which only they could review their own
operations. At the same time he admits, that imagir
nation in the brute serves the purpose* of memory in
us 5 for whenever he sees the object that is painted on
his pliantasia, he knows it again, but without any per¬
ception of the time when he first saw it.” But that
a brute, when he sees the object which is painted on
his phantasia, should know it again without referrino-
it to a former perception, is plainly impossible. The
recognisance of any thing consists in a consciousness
of its having been perceived before ; and nothing more
than such recognisance is essential to memory. The
author’s mistake seems to lie in supposing that me-
moiy necessarily implies a sense of some determinate
portion of past time ; but we surely remember many
tilings of which wre can only say that we have former¬
ly perceived them, without being able to ascertain
the piecise period at which we had such perceptions.
3
H Y S I C S. part
A child has the use of memory' sooner than he ac- itetent-
quires the faculty of speech } but he must have spoken and Ide
and even reasoned before he can have an accurate no- ',~v~
tion of time, which, as shall be shown afterwards,
arises from comparing the fleeting succession of our
own ideas with the permanence of ourselves and other
objects. The author’s distinction between memory
and imagination seems to be on all accounts impro¬
per. Aristotle has said, and said truly, that there is
memory of ideas as well as of sensible objects; mean- j
ing by ideas general conceptions or propositions : but
this reviver of his philosophy is inclined to say, “ that
memory is only of ideas, consequently belongs only to
man : and that imagination is only of sensible objects,
and consequently belongs both to man and brute.”—-
But surely man remembers what he has seen and felt as
well as Avhat he has co?iceived or thought; and if ima¬
gination and memory be properly distinguished by Mr
Harris, the reverse of this writer’s doctrine must be
true, viz. that imagination belongs only to man, and
memory of sensible objects both to ?nan and brute. 
We can contemplate in imagination the idea of a cen¬
taur or of a golden mountain ; but we cannot be said to
remember them, for they were never perceived. That
a dog can contemplate in his imagination the idea of a
centaur or of a golden mountain, we have not the least
reason to suppose j but were he not capable of viewing-
relicts of sense reposed with him, and referring them to
their original causes, he could not possibly recognise his
master after a day’s absence. 7-
Dr Reid and the same author agree with Aristotle, the powl
in thinking it probable that brutes have not reminis-O.freco11
cence, or the power of recollection; but there aretlon'
many well-attested facts which seem to prove the con¬
trary. We shall mention one which fell under our
own observation. One of the persons concerned in
this work w-as, when a young man, absent for five
months from the house of his father. Upon his re¬
turn, a dog of that species which is commonly called
the shepherd's cut', and which had been in the possession
of his father only a few months before his departure,
gazed at him for a few minutes as at any other stran¬
ger. The animal then began to walk round him with
looks which soon attracted his notice. This made him
call the dog by the name which he bore in the family,
and stretch out his hand to caress him, when the crea¬
ture instantly leaped upon him with all that appearance
of attachment which these animals so commonly exhibit
upon the return of their master after a few days absence.
If this was not recollection, we should be glad to know
what it w'as, for we cannot distinguish it from recollec¬
tion in men. Indeed, if dogs and some other animals
possess, as Aristotle, Locke, and others, allow them to
possess, the power of memory, and something of ratioci¬
nation ; and if, as Dr Reid expressly says*, “ they
pect events in the same order and succession in which ]
they happened before; it is not conceivable that theypowCrs j
can be wholly destitute of reminiscence, or the ytowtr of Man \
of recollection.
. 74
I hat memory is a faculty of the first importance, Mcmorj!
cannot be denied ; since it is obvious, that, without the faPa^c
power of retaining the ideas and notions which we re-”^™^
ceive by the senses and other faculties, we never could
make any progress in the acquisition of knowledge,
but should begin every day, nay every hour, in the
same;
( ap.
III.
METAPHYSICS.
, Simple same state of ignorance in which we are born. That
] rchon- it is a faculty capable of improvement by exercise, and
i and that there are some methods of exercise better adapted
lcep* for this purpose than others, has been shown elsewhere.
L ‘A j See Memory.
Chap. III. Of Simple Apprehension and Con¬
ception.
579
75
l| s of
ttion
t! rstraa
Ui Is of
hi m
h ledge.
75
e le ap-
p .-nsion
j 11
d ent
i'i con^
c on.
L 7s
f hat
P' “ it is
11 that
" an
eivc
•ts
h ne-
sisted.
The ideas received into the mind by the senses,
and treasured up in the memory and imagination, are
the original materials of human knowledge. It is by
comparing those ideas with one another, or by analyz¬
ing them into their first principles, that we acquire
all our knowledge in mathematics and philosophy,
and indeed all the knowledge which regulates our
conduct through life. It must, therefore, be of im¬
portance to trace the progress of the mind in her vari¬
ous operations upon these materials $ beginning, as she
certainly begins, with that which is most simple, and
proceeding regularly to those which are more complex
and difficult.
Now the first operation of the mind about her
ideas appears plainly to be that which logicians term
simple apprehension. Having yesterday observed a tree
or any other object, if we contemplate the idea of that
tree to-day as it remains in the imagination, without
comparing it with any other idea, or referring it to
any external object, we perform the operation which
is called simple apprehension. We consider simple ap¬
prehension as an operation, because the mind in the ap¬
prehension of her own ideas is certainly active j she
turns them, as it were, round and round, and views
them on every side.
Simple apprehension is a phrase which is commonly
taken to be of the same import with the word concep¬
tion ; and in the ordinary affairs of life no confusion can
arise from an indiscriminate use of the tvro words: but
in this article we think it expedient to employ the
phrase simple apprehension, to denote the view or con¬
templation of those ideas only which the mind by sen¬
sation has actually received from external objects 5 and
the word conception to denote the view, not only of
those ideas, but also of such as the mind fabricates to
herself. Thus, a man may conceive a centaur, but we
would not choose to say that he may apprehend a cen¬
taur : not that there is any impropriety, perhaps, in this
last expression ; but as there is certainly a difference
between apprehending the idea of what has been seen or
felt, and conceiving that which never existed, perspi¬
cuity requires that these different operations be ex¬
pressed by different names.
We have said, that the mind may conceive what
never existed : and every man may easily satisfy him¬
self that what w'e have said is true : but though this has
been frequently called the creative power of the mind,
it has in fact no resemblance to creation. The mate¬
rials of all our most complex and fantastic conceptions
are furnished to our hands by sensation and reflection j
nor can we form one simple idea which w7as not origi¬
nally received by some of our senses from external ob¬
jects, or, as shall be shown afterwards, one intellectual
notion which was not acquired by reflecting on the
operations of our owrn minds. To explain the pro¬
fess of fantastic conception, it is to be observed, that
Concep-
lion.
in every sensible object we perceive at once seve- Of Simple
ral things, such as colour, figure, extension and mo- Appreheii-
tion or rest, <&c. These are the objects of different sf’,on ant*
senses : but they are not, at least by full-grown men,
perceived in succession, but all at once ; whence it v
comes to pass that the memory, or the imagination, re¬
tains not several distinct and disjointed ideas, but the
idea of one coloured, figured, and extended object. But
when w'e compare various objects, or the ideas of va¬
rious objects, together, wre find that in some respects
they agree and in others disagree j i. e. that several ob¬
jects affect some of our senses in the same way, and
other senses differently. Thus one globe is black, and
another white; one black substance is circular and
hard, and another square and soft. In the first in ¬
stance, the two globes affect our sense of touch in the
same way, and our sense of seeing differently ; in the
second, the tw'O black substances affect our sense of
sight in the same way, and our sense of touch differ¬
ently.
From observing this difference among objects by
means of the different sensations received from them,
the mind learns to analyze its original ideas, which are
copies of those sensations, into their first principles,
and to combine those principles in such a manner as to
form complex ideas of objects which were never ac¬
tually perceived by the senses. Of the simple and un¬
mixed principles which compose those complex ideas,
there is not indeed one which was not originally re
ceived by some sense ; so that the whole difference be¬
tween complex ideas fabricated by the mind, and
those which are the relicts of sensation, consists in the
order in which the constituent simple ideas of each are
put together. Thus, no man ever saw a mountain of
pure gold j and therefore the idea of such a mountain
can be in no human mind as a relict of sensation } but
we have all seen pieces of gold of different sizes, and
we have all seen mountains ; and nothing is more easy
than to conceive a piece of gold extended on all sides
to the size of a mountain, and rising out of the earth.
Again, though no person ever saw a centaur, yet it
is easy to conceive the upper parts of a man joined to
the breast and shoulders of a horse. In these instances,
the complex conceptions are of things which it is in the,
highest degree probable never had a real existence, and
which it is certain we never perceived as existing: but
the simple ideas of which they are composed are the
relicts of actual sensations; for every one has per¬
ceived as really existing the body of a horse and the
upper parts of a man, and when conceiving a centaur
he only perceives them to exist united. That we have
not in the imagination one simple and unmixed idea
which was not left there as a relict of sense, every man
will be convinced who shall try to conceive a simple
colour or taste which is totally different from all the
colours and tastes, and all the shades and varieties of
them, which he has received by sensation; but his
simple ideas, though all received from without, he may
put together in numberless manners, differing from
any order in which he has ever actually perceived the
qualities of external objects existing.
Yet even this power of the mind is limited. It is Tills power
impossible to put together a number of contrary and°f conccp-
inconsistent ideas, in such a manner as to form of them^olinut~
one complex conception. No man, for instance, can sj[,}e0(
19
No
4 D 2
conceive cace.
,80
M E T A P
sion and
Concep¬
tion.
f Essays
Of simple conceive a thing to be at once white ami black, round
Apprelieu- and square, hard and soft, in motion and at rest.—
"r''1 Hence it is a maxim among philosophers almost uni¬
versally received, that though we can conceive many
things which never actually existed, yet we can form
no ideas but of such things as might possibly exist. A
centaur never existed, but it may be conceived; for it
is by no means impossible that the head of a man might
be joined to the body of a horse : but black snow can¬
not be conceived; for in the complex idea denoted by
the word snow whiteness is an essential part, and no¬
shing can be conceived to be both black and white at
the same time. From this undoubted fact, that we
cannot conceive impossible existence, the power of con¬
ception has by some writers in certain instances been
made a test of truth. “ In every idea is implied (says
: Review Dr Price *) the possibility of the existence of its object j
of the prin- nothing being clearer, than that there can be no idea
c pal Ques- 0f an impossibility, or conception ol what cannot exist.”
^Difficulties “ ^ an established maxim in metaphysics (says
in'Morals. Hume), that whatever the mind conceives, includes
the idea of possible existence ; or in other words, that
nothing we imagine is absolutely impossible f.” In a
word, it has been admitted by all philosophers, from
Pythagoras to Dr Reid, to be an axiom as evident and
undeniable as any in Euclid, that whatever we can
distinctly conceive is possible, though many things may
he possible, nay may really exist, of which we can form
go no conception.
The singu- This axiom has been denied by the author of the
Jar opinion Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man ; who af-
Tw tj J r J ■) • t r - i 7i
nrms, that any two sides of a triangle may be con¬
ceived to be equal to the third,” as distinctly as “ any
two sides of a triangle may be conceived to be greater
than the third.” This assertion from such a man sur¬
prised us as much as any paradox which we ever read :
for nothing is more certain, than that we ourselves can
torrn no conception of a triangle of which two of the
sides are only equal to the third. We can, indeed, re¬
solve the proposition into its different parts, and form
the distinct and independent ideas of a triangle, two
sides, and one side; and we can likewise form the general
notion of equality: but to combine these ideas and this
notion into one individual complex conception, we find
to be absolutely impossible. A man who knows no¬
thing of triangles, if such a man there be, might be¬
lieve Dr Reid that it is a figure of which one of its
sides is equal to the other two} but such a person
of Dr Reid
respecting
eur power
of concep¬
tion
H Y S I C S.
Part I
would have no conception of the Jigure itself, but only a 0f Si
confidence in the doctor’s veracity. ' Apprehen
What is it to conceive a corporeal thing to exist ? Is sion and
it not to fancy that we view it on all sides, as what Co.ncep-
may be seen, or felt, or smelt, or tasted P The doctor,
indeed, repeatedly repx-obates as the source of much Si
error the notion of ideas as images in the mind ; and if controvert
ideas be taken as real material figures, he is certainly
in the right: But we appeal to the common sense of
mankind, whether every person who distinctly con¬
ceives a triangle, is not at the time conscious that his
mind is affected in a similar manner, though not so for¬
cibly, as when he actually views a triangle with his
eyes ? Wdiat other men may feel they know best : but we
are as certain that this is the case with respect to our¬
selves, as we are certain of our own existence. That this
affection of the mind is occasioned by some agitation in
the brain, of the same kind with that which occasions
actual perception, is highly probable 5 but whatever be
the cause, the fact is undeniable.
The doctor’s words, indeed, taken by themselves,
would lead one to think, that by conception he means in
this case nothing more than the understanding of the
terms of. a proposition $ but if that be his meaning,
there was no room for controversy j as the great philo¬
sophers Cudworth, Clarke, Price, and Hume, whose opi¬
nion he is combating, wmuld have been as ready as
himself to allow, that when a man is thoroughly master
of any language, he will find no difficulty in under¬
standing the meaning of any particular words in that
language, however absurdly these words may be put
together. W hen Dr Price says, that “ in every idea
is implied the possibility of the existence of its object,
nothing being clearer than that there can be no idex of
impossibility or conception of what cannot exist,” his
meaning evidently is, that we cannot mentally contem¬
plate or fancy ourselves viewing any thing corporeal,
which we might not actually view with our eyes, or
perceive by some other sense (k). This is the true
meaning of conception, which is something very different
from understanding the separate meaning of each word
in a proposition.
The learned professor, however, appeals to the
practice of mathematicians for the truth of his opi¬
nion : and if they be on his side, we must give up the
cause ; for in no science have we such clear ideas, or
such absolute certainty, as in mathematical reasonings.
But it is to be observed, that the word conception is
with
(k) Dr Price may be thought by some to have contradicted in this passage what he had asserted in a for¬
mer. He is a strenuous advocate tor abstract and general ideas even of material objects $ but those among the
moderns who contend the most zealously for these, contend for them only as conceptions of the mind which
can have no possible existence out of it. Were this likewise the opinion of Dr Price, he would certainly have
fallen into a direct contradiction ; hut this is not his ojiinion. His notion of abstract ideas seems to be the
same with that of Plato, who considers ideas not only as the possibilities of existence, but as things actually
existing from eternity, uncreated and independent even of the Supreme Mind. That Dr Price carries the
matter thus iar, we are unwilling to believe } but he certainly considers general ideas as real existences indepen-
dent of our minds, though the immediate objects of our understanding. That in this notion he is mistaken,
vve s lall endeavour to prove in the next chapter. It is enough for our present purpose to have shown that he
oes not contradict himself j and that he might with great propriety affirm on his own principles, as well as
upon tae principles of those who admit net of universal ideas, that in every idea is implied the possibility of its
v/DJv/VV* A
( ap. HI. M E T A P
, with no propriety applied to abstract truth, but to real
( nmp.C 1 ^ i ^ . 7
l -chen or 'possible existence ; nor can we be said to conceive
i and distinctly a real or possible object, unless we be able to
C' eption. j.urn ^ round and round, and view it on all sides.—
L v The faculties which are conversant about abstract truth
are the judgment and the reason } and truth itself con¬
sists in the agreement, as falsehood does in the disa¬
greement, of two or more ideas or terms compared to¬
gether. If those ideas about which the judgment is to
be made can be immediately brought together, without
the intervention of a third idea, it is impossible that we
should or, if Dr Reid will have it so, conceive
that to be true which is really false. If the two ideas
cannot be immediately brought together, it is impos¬
sible that we should form may judgment or conception at
all about their agreement or disagreement : but we may
suppose or admit, for the sake of argument, that they
agree or disagree j and if that supposition conduct to
a manifest absurdity, we then know that the supposition
was false. It is, therefore, perfectly agreeable to the
maxim of Price and Hume, that mathematicians should
in many cases prove some things to be possible and
others impossible, which without demonstration would
not have been believed ; because if the ideas compared
cannot be immediately brought together, no judgment
previous to the demonstration can be formed of the
truth or falsehood of the proposition •, and if it concern
not real or possible existence, it is a proposition w ith
which conception has nothing to do.
“ But (says Dr Reid) it is easy to conceive, that,
in the infinite series of numbers and intermediate frac¬
tions, some one number, integral or fractional, may
bear the same ratio to another as the side of a square
bears to its diagonal.” We are so far from thinking
this an easy matter, that if the word conceive be taken
in the sense in which it is used by the philosophers
whose opinion he is combating, we must confess that
we can form no adequate conception at all of an in¬
finite series. When we make the trial, tve can only
bring ourselves to conceive the real numerical figures
t, 2, 3, &c. or the fractional parts &c* $
and even here our conception reaches but a small wray.
We have reason to believe, that minds of a larger grasp
can conceive at once more of the series than wre can •,
and that the Supreme Mind conceives the whole of it,
if the whole of a mathematical infinity be not a contra¬
diction in terms : but surely no man will say that he
can conceive an infinite series as he conceives a centaur,
and have -an adequate and distinct view of it at once.
If, by conceiving that in an infinite series some one
number may bear the same ratio to another that the
side of a square bears to its diagonal, the doctor only
means that such a supposition may be made, his obser¬
vation is not to the purpose for which it is brought;
for the question is not about our power to make sup¬
positions of this kind, but about our power to raise in
our imaginations an adequate and distinct mental view
of possible or impossible existence. u To suppose
(says Johnson), is to advance by way of argument or
illustration, without maintaining the truth of the po¬
sition.” In this sense a man may suppose that in an
infinite series there may be some one number which
bears the same ratio to another that the side of a square
bears to its diagonal: but such a supposition contains
w it nothing that is positive, which conception always
H Y S I C S. 581
does j it is only admitting, for the sake of argument, of Simple
a position, of the truth or falsehood of which the Apprehen-
person who makes the supposition knows nothing.— sion and
He is only talking of ratios as a blind man may talk ^onc^P1Icr^
of colours. A man born blind may be made to com¬
prehend many of the laws of optics, and may make
suppositions about colours, and reason from such sup¬
positions to a certain extent, as clearly and justly as
one who sees *, but will any person say that a man blind
from his birth can conceive red or green ?- It is much
the same with respect to an infinite series. w e can
follow such a series so far, and may know the ratio by
which it increases or decreases, and reason from what
we know with the utmost certainty : but no man ever
conceived the whole of an infinite semes as he conceives
an individual object ; nor can any reasonings upon the
nature of it be applied to the question of conceiving
impossible existence.
But “ mathematicians often require us (says Dr
Reid) to conceive things that are impossible, in order
to prove them to be so. This is the case in all their
demonstrations ad absurdum. Conceive (says Euclid)
a right line drawn from one point of the circumference
of a circle to another, to fall without the circle. I
conceive this, I reason from it, until I come to a con¬
sequence that is manifestly absurd, and from thence
conclude that the thing which I conceived is impos¬
sible.” If it be indeed true, that Euclid desires his
readers to conceive a mathematical circle with a line
drawn from one point of its circumference to another,
and that line lying without the circle—if he really de¬
sires them to form such a complex conception as this,
we have no hesitation to affirm, that he requires them
to do what is manifestly impossible. The writer of this
article has not in his custody any copy of the Elements
in the original Greek, and therefore cannot say with
certainty what are Euclid’s words, nor is it of much
importance what they be ; for on a question which
every man may decide for himself, by looking into his
own mind, the authority of Euclid is nothing.—The
proposition to which the doctor refers, is the second
of the third book 5 and, in the edition of Simpson, is
expressed thus : “ If any two points be taken in the
circumference of a circle, the straight line which
joins them shall fall within the circle.” Every ma¬
thematician who can form an adequate conception of
a circle and a straight line, perceives the truth of
this proposition instantly, for it results necessarily
from his conception; but he who has not an adequate
conception of a circle, may stand in need of a demon¬
stration to show him the truth : for it is to be ob¬
served, that demonstration does not make truth ; it on¬
ly points it out to those who cannot perceive it intui¬
tively, just as a microscope does not make the hairs on
a mite’s back, but only brings them within the field of
vision.
W ere a. man who never examined a mite through
a microscope, and who has no adequate ideas of the
insect kingdom, to be asked whether there be hairs on
a mite’s back ? he would probably answer that he did
not know, but he could conceive no such hairs. In like
manner, were a man who has no adequate conception of
a mathematical circle, to be asked whether a straight line,
which joins any two contiguous points in the circum¬
ference, could lie without the circle ? he would pro¬
bably
582
METAPHYSICS.
Appendix
to the first
Sketch on
the Sci¬
ences.
Of simple i*aUy answer that he did not know. Now it is to be
Apprehen- remembered, that the reader of the Elements can hat e
Sion and no very adequate conception of a circle when he comes
Conception. to tjie 9ecomi proposition of the third book* The de-
finition of a circle was indeed given him in the intro¬
duction to the first book ; but of that definition he has
hitherto had occasion to make very little use, so that
his idea of a circle will be little more accurate than
that of an illiterate clown, who has no other idea of
the figure than what he takes from a halfpenny or a
shilling. Dr Reid himself has elsewhere f well ob-
t See Lord Served, that “ when a youth of moderate parts begins
Sketches ofto stu(ty Euclid, every thing at first is new to him.
the History His apprehension is unsteady j his judgment is feeble,
of Man; and rests partly ujion the evidence of the thing, and
partly upon the authority of his teacher: but every
time he goes over the definitions, the axioms, the
elementary propositions, more light breaks in upon
him; the language becomes familiar, and conveys
clear and steady conceptions.” In this state he cer¬
tainly is when he reads for the first time the second
proposition of the third book : his conception of a
circle can then be neither clear nor steady. Our young
geometrician, however, must allow, that the proposition
is either true or false j and if he has read the preced¬
ing books with any advantage, he must have clear and
steady conceptions of angles and triangles, and be able
to demonstrate many of their properties. “ Well (says
Euclid), though you have no adequate conception of
a circle, you are well acquainted with plane angles
and triangles, and many of their properties: let us
suppose, if that be possible, that my proposition is
false* and I will show you that the supposition is abso¬
lutely inconsistent with what you know to be demon¬
strable or self-evident truth.” This is all which Euclid
can be supposed to require, when, in the words of his
excellent translator, he says, “ If it (viz. the straight
line) do not fall within (the circle), let it fall, if pos¬
sible, without” He could not possibly desire a man
who has an adequate idea of a circle, to form the posi¬
tive and complex conception of that figure, with a
straight line touching two points of the circumference,
and yet lying on the outside of the circumference ; be¬
cause all his figures and lines are mere conceptions,
Part I.
and not real material things ; and such a request would Of Abstrac
have been the same thing as if he had said, Conceive tion and
what cannot be conceived (l). general
We have insisted the longer on this point because < tdeas-
we think it of the highest importance : for were it in- ^
deed true, that we could conceive impossible existence,
the consequences would be very melancholy. These
consequences it is needless to enumerate. Our read¬
ers will perceive, that if we could put together incon¬
sistent ideas of sensible objects, and view them so united
as one consistent whole, nothing is clearer than that
our faculties would be contrived to deceive us, and we
would be doomed to cheerless and universal scepti¬
cism. ' '
Chap. IV. Of Abstraction and general
Ideas.
... . $2
Ever y sensible object is an individual, and differs Every sen-
in many respects from every other object. As such it sible object
is perceived by the senses j and ideas being nothing?"'* evci7
more than relicts of sensation preserved in the imagi-^—^(l) * 111'
nation or memory, every idea must of course be an
individual, as much as the object to which it refers.
But all science, whether mathematical, moral, or me¬
taphysical, is conversant about general truths *, and if
truth consist, as we have already observed, and shall
more fully evince afterwards, in the agreement or co¬
incidence of ideas, how, it may be asked, can gene¬
ral truth result from the comparison of particular ideas ?
To get rid of this difficulty, many philosophers, both
ancient and modern, pretend that the mind is furnished
with general ideas, from a comparison of which result
general propositions applicable to many individuals.
Philosophers, indeed, have differed in opinion respect¬
ing the source of those ideas, some of the ancients
deriving them immediately from the Supreme Mind
to the human, whilst almost all the moderns say that
they are framed by abstraction, and therefore call them
abstract ideas. 8
The doctrine of abstract ideas has been so fairly The doc-
stated, and, in our opinion, so completely overturned, trine of ahj
by Bishop Berkeley, that we shall content ourselvesstractidea
with abridging what he has said on the subject, and6tattd’am
obviating
(l) Principal Campbell, treating of the commonly received doctrine of abstraction, and having shown,
that though Eocke has in one passage of his immortal work expressed himself on the subject in terms unintel¬
ligible, his sentiments on the whole differed little from those of Berkeley and Hume, adds, “ Some of the
greatest admirers of that eminent philosopher seem to have overlooked entirely the preceding account of bis
sentiments on thm subject; and, through I know not what passion for the paradoxical (I should rather say the
impossible and unintelligible), ha\e shown an amazing zeal for defending the propriety of the hasty Expressions
which appear in the passages formerly referred to. Has not the mind of man (say they) an unlimited power in
tnouldrng and combining its ideas? The mind, it must be owned, hath an unlimited power in moulding and com¬
bining its ideas. It often produces wonderful forms ol its own out of the materials originally supplied by sense j
iorms indeed ot which there is no exemplar to be found in nature :—ceutaurs and griffins,
G argons and hydras, and chimeras dire.
But still it must not attempt absolute impossibilities, by giving to its creature contradictory qualities. It must
not attempt to conceive the same thing to be black and white at the same time 5 to be no more than three inches
long, and yet no less than three thousand; to conceive two or more lines to be both equal and unequal 5 the same
angle to be at once acute obtuse, and right or, we may add, the two sides of a triangle to be not greater than
the third, bee Philosophy of Rhetoric, vol. 11. p. 108, &c. &
{ap. IV. M E T A P
ojbstrac-obviating some cavils winch have lately been urged
1 and against his reasoning. “ It is agreed on all hands
ieraI (says that learned and ingenious prelate *), that the
eaS‘ qualities or modes of things do never really exist each
* roduc- them apart by itself and separated from all others ;
(i, ‘o the but are mixed, as it were, and blended together, seve-
P riples pi fn the same object. But, we are told the mind be-
K »mn aljle to consider each quality singly, or abstracted
la . fr°m those other qualities with which it is united, does
by that means frame to itself abstract ideas. For ex¬
ample : There is perceived by sight an object extended,
coloured, and moved : this mixed or compound idea,
the mind resolving into its simple constituent parts, and
viewing each by itself exclusive of the rest, does frame
the abstract ideas of extension, colour, and motion. Not
that it is possible for colour or motion to exist without
extension ; but only that the mind can frame to itself
by abstraction the idea of colour exclusive of extension,
and of motion exclusive of both colour and extension.
Again, The mind having observed, that in the particu¬
lar extensions perceived' by sense, there is something
common and alike in all, and some other things pecu¬
liar, as this or that figure or magnitude, which distin¬
guish them from one another ; it considers apart, or
singles out by itself, that which is common, making
thereof a most abstract idea of extension, which is neither
line, surface, nor solid, nor has any figure or magnitude,
but is an idea entirely prescinded from all these. So
likewise the mind, by leaving out of the particular co¬
lours perceived by sense that which distinguishes them
one from another, and retaining that only which is com¬
mon to all, makes an idea of colour in abstract, which
is neither red, nor blue, nor white, nor any other deter¬
minate colour. And as the mind frames to itself abstract
ideas of qualities or modes, so docs it by the same preci¬
sion or mental separation attain abstract ideas of the
more compounded beings, which include several coex¬
istent qualities. I or example: The mind having ob¬
served that Peter, James, and John, resemble each other
in certain common agreements of shape and other qua¬
lities, leaves out of the complex or compounded idea
it has ol Peter, James, and any other particular man,
that which is peculiar to each, retaining only what
is common to all, and so makes an abstract idea
wherein all the particulars equally partake, abstracting
entirely from and cutting off all those circumstances
and differences which might determine it to any par¬
ticular existence. After this manner, it is said, we
come by the abstract idea of man, or, if you please,
humanity or human nature, in which, it is true, there
i« included colour, because there is no man but has
some colour ; but then it can be neither black, nor
•white, nor any particular colour, because there is no
one particular colour wherein all men partake. So
likewise there is included stature ; but then it is nei¬
ther tall stature, nor low stature, nor middle stature,
but something abstracted from all these ; and so of the
rest. Moreover, there being a great variety of other
Creatures that pai’take in some parts, but not all, of
the complex idea of man ; the mind, leaving out those
P^ts which are peculiar to man, and retaining those
only which are common to all the living creatures,
Irameth the idea of animal; which abstracts not only
Irom all particular men, but also from all birds, beasts,
fishes, and insects. The constituent parts of that ab-
H Y S I C S. rRa
stract idea of animal, are body, life, sense, and spon- Of Absivac-
taneous motion. By body, is meant body without any tion and
particular shape or figure, there being no one shape or &enei'al
figure common to all animals, without covering either Idcus' .
of hair or feathers or scales, &c. and yet not naked j '~ v
hair, leathers, scales, and nakedness, being the distin¬
guishing properties of particular animals, and for that
reason left out of the abstract idea. Upon the same
account, the spontaneous motion must be neither
walking, nor flying, nor creeping: it is nevertheless
motion but what that motion is, it is not easy to
conceive. §4
“ Whether others have this wonderful faculty 0f controvert“
abstracting their ideas (continues the bishop), they best ed; and
can tell; for myself, I find indeed that I have a facul¬
ty of imagining or representing to myself the ideas
of those particular things which I have perceived, and
of variously compounding and dividing them. I can
imagine a man with two heads, or the upper parts of
a man joined to the body of a horse. I can consider
the hand, the eye, the nose, each by itself abstracted
or separated from the rest of the body. But then,
whatever hand or eye I imagine, it must have some
particular shape, and some particular colour.—Like¬
wise the idea of man that I frame to myself, must
be either of a white, or a black, or a tawney, a
straight or a crooked, a tall or a low, or a middle-
sized man. I cannot by any effort of thought con¬
ceive the abstract idea above described. To be plain,
I own myself able to abstract in one sense, as when I
consider some particular parts or qualities separated
from others with which, though they are united in
some objects, yet it is possible they may really exist
without them. But I deny that I can abstract one
from another, or conceive separately those qualities
which it is impossible should exist so separated ; or that
I can frame a general notion by abstracting from par¬
ticulars in the manner aforesaid ; and there are grounds
to think most men will acknowledge themselves to be
in my case.” g.
lo think this, there are indeed such good grounds, sb°wn to
that it is probable some of our readers, little conver- bc absurd-
sant with the writings of modern metaphysicians, are
by this time disposed to suspect, that the bishop in
his zeal may have misrepresented the doctrine of ab¬
straction j as no man m his senses, who is not perverted
by some darling hypothesis, can suppose himself ca¬
pable of tagging together such monstrous inconsisten¬
cies, as magnitude which is neither large nor small,
and colour which is neither white, red, green, nov
black, &c. But that the ingenious prelate, in his
account of this process of looping and pruning, as Mr
Harris contemptuously, but most properly, terms it.
has not exaggerated in the smallest degree, is apparent
from the following account of abstraction given by Mr
Locke. “ Abstract ideas (says that writer) are not so
obvious or easy to children, or the yet uncxercised
mind, as particular ones. If they seem so to grown
men, it is only because by constant and familiar use
they are made so 5 for when we nicely reflect upon
them, we shall find that general ideas are fictions and
contrivances of the mind that carry difficulty with
them, and do not so easily ofl’er themselves as we are
apt to imagine. For example, does it not require
some pains and skill to form the general idea of a
triangle..
584
M E T A P
Of Abstrac-triangle (which is yet none of the most abstract, com-
tion and prehensive, aftd difficult)? for it must be neither oblique
general nor reCtangle, neither equilateral, equicrural, nor sca-
, Ideas' , lenon, but all and none of these at once. In effect, it 13
v something imperfect that cannot exist, an idea wherein
some parts of several different and inconsistent ideas are
put together.” “ Surely (to use the words of Prin-
* Philoso- eipal Campbell *) the bare mention^ of this hypothesis
[s equivalent to a confutation of it, since it really^
toric- confutes itself.” But if any man has the faculty oi
framing in his mind such an idea of a triangle as is
here described, it would be vain in us to dispute
‘with him } for we are possessed of no such faculty,
and therefore would fight on unequal terms. All
we have to desire is, that the reader would fully and
certainly inform himself whether he has such an idea
or not} and this can be no hard task to perform.
What is more easy for any one than to look a lit¬
tle into his own thoughts, and there try whether he
lias, or can attain to have, an idea of colour separated
from all extension ; of extension, which is neither great
nor small i of taste, which is neither sweet nor hitter,
nor acid, nor agreeable, nov disagreeable; or the general
idea of a triangle, which is neither oblique nor rectan¬
gle, equicrural, equilateral, nor scalemn, but all and
none of these at once (m) P
Dr Reid having denied that there are or can be
the^Tm °nS h1 the mind any ideas of sensible objects, rejects of
with'™-, course the doctrine of abstract general ideas, whilst he
maintains in fact the same thing, only substituting the
word conception for the word idea. “ What hinders
me (says he) from attending to the whiteness of the
paper before me, without applying that colour to
any other object ?” We know nothing indeed which
can hinder any man from performing this operation,
which is daily and hourly performed by infants j but
will the doctor say, that he can attend to colour, or
conceive it, abstracted from the paper and every other
surface P We are persuaded he will not, though he
immediately adds, the “ whiteness of this individual
object is an abstract conception.'1'1 Now we should ra¬
ther have thought, that, consistent with his own no¬
tions of colour, he would have called the whiteness of
*the paper a concrete quality, and his own conception of
it a particular and concrete conception. If he conceives
the whiteness as separated from the paper, it is no
longer the whiteness of that individual object: and he
must either conceive it as abstracted from all objects,
which is plainly impossible : or he must conceive it as
inhering in some other object, and then neither the
quality of whiteness, nor his conception of it, is ab¬
stract in general, but concrete and particular. He
affirms, however, “ that in abstraction, strictly so call¬
ed, he can perceive nothing that is difficult* either to
be understood or practised.” This is going much
farther into the doctrine than Mr Locke went} for
ss
Abstract
stract
ideas.
general
Ideas.
H Y S I C S. Patti
he owned that there was much difficulty in it. LetofAbstrac
us see how it becomes so easy to Dr Reid. “ What tion and
can be more easy (says he) than to distinguish the
different attributes which we know to belong to a sub¬
ject ? In a man, for instance, to distinguish his size,
his complexion, his age, his fortune, his birth, his pro¬
fession, and twenty other things that belong to him.”
All this indeed, and much more, we can do with the
utmost ease; but this is not abstraction, strictly so
called, nor any thing like abstraction. W7e distinguish
the size, the complexion, the age, &c. of .the man, from
one another: but still we conceive them all as his qua¬
lities ; nor is it possible, at least for uS, to abstract them
from him, without conceiving them as the qualities of
some other man •, so that our conceptions are all con¬
crete and particular. “ It ought likewise to be ob¬
served (says the professor), that attributes may with
perfect ease be distinguished and disjoined in our con¬
ception, which cannot be actually separated in the sub¬
ject.” They may be so in his conception, but cer¬
tainly not in ours •, for we can conceive nothing which
may not actually exist'. “ Thus (continues he) I can
in a body distinguish its solidity from its extension,
and its weight from both. In extension, I can di¬
stinguish length, breadth, and thickness ; yet none of
these can be separated from the body, or from one-
another. It is therefore certain, that attributes, which
in their nature are absolutely inseparable from their
subject, and from one another, may be disjoined in our
conception j one cannot exist without the other, but
one can be conceived without the other.” So far is
this from being a matter of certainty, that in every
possible sense in which wTe can understand the word
conception, it appears to us as evidently false, as that
three and two are equal to nine. It is indeed not dif¬
ficult to distinguish in a body its solidity from its ex¬
tension, and its weight from both : but can we distin¬
guish them out of the body ? or, to speak in plain
language, can wre conceive solidity as separated from
all extension and all weight 9 Unless this can be done,
and by us it cannot be done, there is no abstraction
strictly so called. It is indeed easy to conceive solidity
or extension abstracted from any one individual object:
but how is it done ? Why by transferring your at¬
tention to some other individual object. Thus, we can
easily conceive solidity or extension separated from a
guinea, for instance *, but it is only by transferring our
thoughts to another bodi, a piece of silver, or a ball of
lead, &c. and our conceptions in both cases are parti¬
cular and concrete.
As we think this opinion of Hr Reid’s respecting
ABSTRACTION both ill-founded and of dangerous con¬
sequences, rve have expressed our dissent from it in
strong terms } and in doing so we have only followed
the example set us by himself when dissenting from the
theories of Hume and Berkeley. But we are so tho¬
roughly
(m) “ If such an extraordinary faculty (abstraction) Were possible, I cannot for my part conceive what purpose
it could serve. An idea hath been defined by some logicians, the form or resemblance of a thing in the mind
and the whole of its power and use in thinking is supposed to arise from an exact conformity to its archetype.
What then is the use or power of that idea, to which there neither is nor can be any archetype in nature, which
is merely a creature of the brain, a monster that hears not the likeness of any in the universe ?” Philosophy oj
Rhetoric, vol. ii. p. no.
«7
ms,
■ they
dap IV. M E T A P
( ibstrac-roughly convinced that the doctor’s acuteness is superior
m and to our own (m), that we are not without our fears that
we may have mistaken his meaning. We are consci¬
ous that we have not wilfully misrepresented it ; and
to enable our readers to judge for themselves between
him and us, we shall lay before them his definition of
general conceptions in his own words.
That there are in every language general terms, is
known to all mankind ; for such are all substantives,
< proper names excepted 5 and all adjectives. But “ it is
\ huel-’1 hnpossible (says the doctor*) that words can have a
! mi general signification, unless there he conceptions in the
1 <ers of mind of the speaker and of the hearer, of things (n)
. that are general. It is to such that I give the name of
general conceptions: and it ought to he observed, that
they take this denomination, not from the act of the
mind in conceiving, which is an individual act ; but
from the object or thing conceived, which is general.”
Now, whatever is conceived, must be either external to
the mind, or present with it. But the doctor himself
acknowledges, “That all the objects we perceive are
individuals. Every object of sense, of memory, or of
consciousness, is an individual object. All the good
things we enjoy or desire, and all the evils we feel or
fear, must come from individuals ; and I think I may
venture to say, that every creature which God has ,
made in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath or
in the waters under the earth, is an individual.” If this
be so, and no man can call it in question, it is obvious
that we can have no general conception of anything ex¬
ternal. The act of conceiving is an individual act; and
therefore the only thing which can be general, must be
something present with the mind, and different from the
mere act of conceiving: But what can this be, if not what
Berkeley and others call an idea? and how can we have
an idea of which we are not conscious? yet every thing
of which we are conscious Dr Held himself acknow¬
ledges to be an individual.
But if the doctrine generally received respecting ab¬
stract ideas be so very absurd as it has appeared in our
representation, how comes it to be so prevalent among
the acutest philosophers P To this we answer, that those,
philosophers have certainly in this instance been im¬
posed upon by the structure of language. Every ad¬
jective and every substantive, proper names excepted,
are words of general signification } and all science is
conversant about general truth ; but as words are said
to be significant, not of things, but of ideas ; and as
truth results from the agreement or coincidence of
ideas *, it has been hastily supposed, that without gene¬
ral ideas there could have been neither general terms
nor general truth. This is plausible, but it is not solid.
Every object which affects our senses is an individual
object; but wre perceive that two or more objects which
affect some of our senses very differently, affect others
of them in precisely the same way. Thus, the paper
upon which one writes, the snow which he perceives
from his window, and the milk which he may use at
Vol. XIII. Fart II. f
88
•neral
ifica-
H Y S I C S. 585
breakfast, affect his senses of touch and taste very differ- Of Atstrac*
ently, but they present the same appearances to his eye. tibn and
’Ibis diversity in the one case he believes to proceed gyneral
from different powers or qualities in the several objects; 1 ' 'f
and the sameness of appearance in the other, from simi¬
lar qualities in these objects. To the similar qualities,
though he can frame no idea of them abstracted from
every individual object, he gives one common name ;
and calls-every object which presents the same appear¬
ance to his eye that snow does, a white object ; where
the word white does not stand for an abstract idea, but
for a quality inherent in one or more objects. Hence
the origin of adjectives in language, which denote more
than can be expressed by any class of substantives ; for
every adjective, besides the power of a name, includes
in itself the force of a conjunction. See Grammar.
The other class of general terms comprehends sub¬
stantives ; of which the origin is as follows : The ob¬
jects about which we have occasion to speak or wrrite
are so numerous and so fluctuating, that if every indi¬
vidual had a proper name, a complete language could
never be formed. But as there are not perhaps in na¬
ture two objects that appear to us similar in all re¬
spects, so are there not in nature two objects which
affect all our senses differently. The mind, therefore,
either actually perceiving two or more objects at once*
or contemplating the ideas left by two or more objects
in the memory, perceives, by its intellectual pow'er, in
what respects they agree and in what they disagree.
If the* agreement be striking, and in more qualities
than one, it combines the several individuals into one
class or species, giving to the whole a common name,
which equally denotes the species arid every individual
belonging to it. Thus, observing that Peter, James,
and John, agree xu having the same erect form, in
walking on two legs, in having hands, &c. and in be¬
ing endowed with reason, we combine these three, and
all other individuals which we perceive to agree in the
same striking and impoi'tant qualities, into one species,
to which we give the name of man—a word which
equally denotes the whole species and every individual
of it. Again, Contemplating several figures, which all
agree in the circumstance of being bounded by three
straight lines meeting one another so as to form three
angles, we call the whole class of figures and each indi¬
vidual by the name of triangle—though it may be im¬
possible to contemplate any number of triangles with¬
out perceiving that all the angles of one are acute ;
that one angle of another is a right angle ; and that in
the third there is one angle obtuse ; but the word tri¬
angle, unless it is limited in its signifiation by the ad¬
dition of an adjective, is equally expressive of an acute-
angled triangle, a right-angled triangle, and an obtuse-
angled triangle. By thus arranging individuals ac¬
cording to their most conspicuous qualities, we may
combine all the objects existing into so many classes or
species, which shall be afterwards known by as many
names; but of each species we neither have, nor can
4 E have,
(m) Notwithstanding this declaration, which is made with the greatest sincerity, we do not apprehend that we
are guilty of presumption when we examine the doctor’s opinions. Berkeley and Hume were certainly as acute
as any metaphysician who has succeeded them ; yet their opinions have been canvassed without ceremony, and to
much advantage. Aliquando bonus dormitat Humerus.
(n) He tells us soon afterwards, that there are no things general. How is the one passage to be reconciled
with the other ?
586
M E T A P
Of Abstrac-have, any other idea than that of a multitude of similar
tiou and individuals.
As our acquaintance with nature enlarges, we dis¬
cover resemblances, striking and important, between one
species and another, which naturally begets the notion
of a higher class called a genus. From comparing man
with beasts, birds, fishes, and reptiles, we perceive that
they are all alike possessed of life, or a principle of sen¬
sation and action, and of an organized body t hence we
rank them all under a higher class or genus, to which
we give the name of animal j which equally denotes the
whole genus, each species comprehended under the ge¬
nus, and every individual of every species. Thus, ani¬
mal, is a genus ; man, beast, bird, are so many species
comprehended under that genus ; and Peter, James, and
John, are individuals of the species man. Peter, James,
and John, are proper names, denoting each an indivi¬
dual ; man, beast, bird, are specific terms, denoting each
a whole species comprising many individuals; and ani¬
mal is & general term, because it denotes a whole genus,
comprehending under it several species, of which each
consists of many individuals; and the general term
denotes either the whole genus, all the species, or any
individual of all the species. This is the whole mystery
of abstraction: they are merely terms, that in strict¬
ness of speech are general and abstract; and even those
are general only as signs, of which the full signification
cannot always be represented by any conceivable idea.
Names and “It is a received opinion (says Bishop Berkeley),
ideas often that language has no other end but the communicating
used as 0f our ideas, and that every significant name stands for
an idea. This being so} and it being withal certain,
that names, which yet are not thought altogether insig¬
nificant, do not always mark out particular conceivable
ideas *, it is straightway concluded that they stand for
abstract notions. That there are many names in use
amongst speculative men, which do not always suggest
to others determinate particular ideas, is what nobody
will deny: and a little attention will discover, that it
is not necessary, even in the strictest reasonings, that
significant names, which stand for ideas, should every
time they are used excite in the understanding the ideas
they are made to stand for. In reading and discours¬
ing, names are for the most part used as letters in al¬
gebra*, in which, though a particular quantity be mark¬
ed by each letter, yet to proceed right, it is not re¬
quisite that in every step each letter suggest to our
thoughts that particular quantity it w*as appointed to
stand for.” The same thing is true of ideas, which
as well as names are often used merely as signs repre¬
senting a whole class; and on that account they may
be called general, though every idea is in itself strictly
particular. Thus, “ An idea, which considered in
itself is particular, becomes general by being made to
represent or stand for all other particular ideas of the
same sort. To make this plain by an example, suppose
a geometrician is demonstrating the method of cutting
a line in two equal parts: He draws, for instance, a
black line of an inch in length: this, which in itself is
a particular line, is nevertheless, with regard to its sig¬
nification, general; since, as it is there used, it repre¬
sents all particular lines whatsoever: so that what is
demonstrated of it is demonstrated of all lines, or, in
other words, of a line in general. And as that parti¬
cular line becomes general by being made a sign, so
mere signs,
tion and
general
Ideas
H Y S I C S. Part I.
the name line, and the idea of a line in the imagination, of Abstrac.
either of which taken absolutely is particular, by being
signs are made general likewise. And as the former
owes its generality, not to its being the sign of an ab- ^
stract or general line, but of all particular right lines
that may possibly exist ; so the latter, the name and
the idea, must be thought to derive their generality
from the same cause, namely, the various particular
lines which each of them indifferently denotes.” A-
gain, When one demonstrates any proposition concern-
in «• triangles, is to be supposed that he has in view
to°demonstrate an universal truth ; yet the particular
triangle which he considers must be either equilateral,
isosceles, or scalenon ; for a plain triangle, which is
none of these, can neither exist nor be conceived. But
whether it be of this or that sort is of no importance,
as any of them may equally stand for and represent all
rectilineal triangles, and on that account be denomi¬
nated universal.
This doctrine respecting names and ideas being used
merely as signs, has been adopted by almost every sub¬
sequent philosopher; and by Principal Campbell it
has been illustrated with perspicuity and acuteness
it
been illustrated with perspicuity and acuteness
every way worthy ot the author ol the Dissertation on
Miracles. “ In confirmation of this doctrine (says
he*), it may be observed, that we really think hy* Philos*-
sio-ns, as well as speak by them. All the truths which
constitute science, which give exercise to reason, and
are discovered by philosophy, are general; all our
ideas, in the strictest sense of the word, are particular.
All the particular truths about which we are conver¬
sant are properly historical, and compose the furniture
of memory. Nor do I include under the term histori¬
cal the truths which belong to natural history ; for even
these too are general. Now, beyond particular truth
or historical facts, first perceived and then remembered,
we should never be able to proceed one single step in
thinking any more than in conversing, without the use
of signs.
“ When it is affirmed that the whole is equal to all
its parts, there cannot be an affirmation which is more
perfectly intelligible, or which commands a fuller as¬
sent. If, in order to comprehend this, I recur to
ideas, all that I can do is to form a notion of some in¬
dividual whole, divided into a certain number ot parts
of which it is constituted ; suppose of the year, divided
into the four seasons. Now all that I can be said
to discern here is the relation of equality between this
particular whole and its component parts. If 1 recur
to another example, I only perceive another particular
truth. The same holds of a third and of a fourth.
But so far am I, after the perception of ten thousand
particular similar instances, from the discovery of the
universal truth, that if the mind had not the power of
considering things as signs, or particular ideas as re¬
presenting an infinity of others, resembling in one cir¬
cumstance though totally dissimilar in every other, I
could not so much as conceive the meaning of an run- w^ich,
versal truth. Hence it is that some ideas, to adopt the though paj
expression of Berkeley, are particular in their nature, ticu'ar
but general in their representation^ serve t0,i
But if in universal propositions, ideas particular in monstrat(B
themselves be used only as the signs of others, it may general
be demanded, how we can know any proposition to be truths; b
true of all the ideas which are represented by thecause
sign ?
lap. IV.
ibstrac-sign ? For example, having demonstrated that the
m and thr£e angles of an’ isosceles rectangular triangle are
neral eqUal t0 two right ones, how can we conclude that
^as' , this affection therefore agrees to all other triangles
-which have neither a right angle nor two equal sides ?
To this question Bishop Berkeley and Principal Camp-
hell give the following answer: Though the idea we
have in view' whilst we make the demonstration be that
of an isosceles rectangular triangle, whose sides are of
a determinate length, we may yet he certain that the
demonstration extends to all other rectilineal triangles
of wrhat sort or bigness soever 5 for this plain reason,
that neither the equality nor determinate length of the
sides, nor the right angle, are at all concerned in the
-demonstration. It is true, the idea or diagram we
liave in view includes all these particulars ; hut then
there is not the least mention made of them in the
proof of the proposition. It is not said the three
angles are equal to two right angles, because one of
them is a right angle, or because the sides comprehend¬
ing it are of equal length •, which sufficiently shows
that the right angle might have been oblique and the
sides unequal j and for all that the demonstration have
held good. In every one of Euclid’s theorems, a par¬
ticular triangle, and a particular parallelogram, and a
particular circle, are employed as signs to denote all
triangles, all parallelograms, and all circles. When a
geometrician makes a diagram with chalk upon a
hoard, and from it demonstrates the property of a
straight-lined figure, no spectator ever imagines that
Ire is demonstrating a property of nothing else but that
individual white figure, five inches long, which is before
him.—Every one is satisfied that he is demonstrating
a pr operty of all of that order, whether more or less ex¬
tensive, of which it is both an example and a sign j
all the order being understood to agree with it in cer¬
tain characters, however different in other respects.
Nay, what is more, the mind with the utmost facility
extends or contracts the representative power of the
sign as the particular occasion requires. Thus the
same equilateral triangle will with equal propriety
serve for the demonstration, not only of a property of
all equilateral triangles, but of a property of all iso¬
sceles triangles, or even of a property of all triangles
whatever. Nay, so perfectly is this matter understood,
that if the demonstrator in any part should recur to
some property belonging to the particular figure he
hath constructed, but not essential to the kind mem-
tioned in the proposition, and which the particular
figure is solely intended to represent, every intelligent
observer would instantly detect the fallacy : So entire¬
ly for all the purposes of science doth a particular serve
for a whole species or genus. Now, why one visible
individual should in our reasonings serve without the
587
smallest inconvenience as a sign for an infinite number, Of Abstrae-
and yet one conceivable individual, or a particular idea tioii and
ot imagination, should not be adapted to answer the general
same end, it will, we imagine, be utterly impossible to - (cas‘ .
say (N).
It must, however, be confessed, that there is a con¬
siderable difference in kind, between ideas used as signs
and the general terms of any language. Amongst all
the individuals of a species, or even of the highest ge¬
nus, there is still a natural connexion, as they agree
in the specific or generic character 5 and when the
mind makes use of any positive idea as the sign of the
species or genus, that idea appears in the imagination
as an exact resemblance of some one individual. But
the connexion which subsists between words and things,
or even between words and ideas, is in its origin ar¬
bitrary 5 and yet its effect upon the mind is much the
same with that of the natural connexion between ideas
and things. For having often had occasion to observe
particular words used as signs of particular things, and
specific terms used as signs of a whole species, we con¬
tract a habit of associating the sign with the thing sig¬
nified, insomuch that either being presented to the
mind necessarily introduces or occasions the appre¬
hension of the other. Custom in this instance ope¬
rates precisely in the same manner as natural resem¬
blance in the other ; so that certain sounds, and the
ideas of things to which they are not naturally relat¬
ed, come to be as thoroughly linked in our concep¬
tions as the ideas of things and things themselves.
Nay, so completely are they linked together, that we
uften use, through long chains of reasoning, certain
sounds or words, without attending at all to the ideas
or notions of which they are signs. “ I believe (says
the author of A Treatise on Human Nature), that every
one who examines the situation of his mind in reason¬
ing will agree with me, that we do not annex distinct
and complete ideas to every term we make use of;
and that in talking of government, church, negotiation,
conquest, we seldom spread out in oitr minds all the
simple ideas of which the compound notions signified
by these terms are composed. It is, however, observ¬
able, that notwithstanding this imperfection, we may
avoid talking nonsense on these subjects, and may per¬
ceive any repugnance among the ideas as well as if
we had a full comprehension of them.” This remark
generally holds true 5 but then it is to be observed, that
all the words used as signs, and which yet do not denote
any one conceivable determinate idea, must be capable
of definition. Thus, in matters that are perfectly fa¬
miliar, in simple narration, or in moral observations 011
the occurrences of life, a man of common understand¬
ing may be deceived by specious falsehood, but is hard¬
ly to be gulled by downright nonsense or a repug-
4 E 2 nance ‘
M E T A P II Y S I C S.
(n) Were it possible to frame an abstract general idea of a triangle, which is neither equilateral, isosceles, nor
scalenon, even that idea must be used merely as a sign as much as any particular triangle whatever; and the
question might still be asked, How we can know any proposition to be true ot all the triangles represented by
the sign ? For example : having demonstrated that the three angles of an ideal triangle, which is neither equi¬
lateral, isosceles, nor scalenon, are equal to two right angles, how can wre conclude that this affection agrees
to triangles which are equilateral, &.c. ? To this question it is not easy to conceive what answer could be
given other than that of Berkeley and Campbell, in the case of using particular and conceivable triangles as
signs.
588
Of Abstrac
tion and
general
Ideas.
. 91
it is not
the matter
but the
power of
the sign
that is re¬
garded by
the mind.
M E T A P
.nance of ideas!* Almost all the possible applications
of the terms (m other words^ all the acquired relations
of the signs) have become customary to him. The con¬
sequence is, that an unusual application of any of them
is instantly detected : this detection breeds doubt, and
this doubt occasions an immediate recourse to definition;
■which, proceeding through species and genera, resolves
complex terms into others less complex, till it ends at
last in simple ideas and relations, which can neither be
defined nor misunderstood (o). See Logic.
Thus then we see, that though there are no ideas,
properly speaking, general and abstract, a man may,
by terms and particular ideas, used as signs, arrive at
the knowledge of general truth. In neither case is it the
matter, if we may be allowed the expression, but the
power of the sign that is regarded by the mind. W e
find, that even in demonstrative reasonings, signs the
most arbitrary, or mere symbols, may be used with as
little danger of error as ideas or natural signs, 'ihe
operations both of the algebraist and arithmetician are
strictly of the nature of demonstration. The one em¬
ploys as signs the letters of the alphabet, the other cer¬
tain numerical characters. In neither ol these-arts is
it necessary to form ideas of the quantities and sums
signified; in some instances it is even impossible without
resolving the quantity or sum into parts, in a manner
analogous to definition ; and then the mind comprehends
not the whole quantity or number at once, but the se¬
veral parts of which it is composed, which it connects
(p) by the relation of junction or addition. Yet with¬
out this resolution, tho equations and calculations car-
ried on by means of the letters and figures significant
of the whole quantity or the whole sum, are not the
less accurate or convincing. And so much for abstrac¬
tion, generalization, and the power of signs, whether
natural or artificial.
Chap. V. Of the Association o/Ideas.
A continu- Every man whilst awake is conscious of a conti-
cd train of nued train of thought spontaneously arising in his
thought m mind and passing through it; nor could a single now
1 e mm . or instant be pitched upon in which some idea is not
present in his memory or imagination. No one idea,
however, unless detained by a voluntary exertion of
the mind, or unless productive of intense pleasure or
pain, remains long in the imagination ; but each has¬
tens oil the stage to make way for another, which
takes its turn and is succeeded by a third, &c. We
are not to imagine that this train of thought is alto¬
gether fortuitous and incoherent. “ It is evident
*'Essays, (says Mr Hume*), that there is a principle of con¬
nexion between different thoughts or ideas of the
mind ; and that, in their appearance to the memory
or imagination, they introduce each other with a cer-
H Y S I C S. Parti.
tain degree of method and icgukrity. In our more Association
serious thinking or discourse this is so observable, that of Ideas,
any particular thought which breaks in upon the re- UT—*J
gular track or chain of ideas is immediately remarked
and rejected. Even in our wildest and most wandering
reveries, nay, in our verv dreams, we shall find, if wc
reflect, that the imagination ran not altogether at ad¬
ventures, but that there was still a connexion upheld
among the different ideas which succeeded each other
Were the loosest and freest conversation to be tran¬
scribed, there would immediately be observed some-
thing which connected it in all its transitions : Or,
where this is wanting, the person who broke the thread
of discourse, might still inform you, that there had secret¬
ly revolved in his mind a succession of thoughts, which
had gradually led him from the subject of conversa¬
tion. Among different languages, even where we
cannot suspect the least connexion or communication,
it is found, that words expressive of ideas the most com¬
pounded, do yet nearly correspond to each other ; a
certain proof that the simple ideas comprehended in
the compound ones, were bound together by some uni¬
versal principle, which had an equal influence on all
mankind.”
That these observations are well founded, every Principles
man may be satisfied by looking attentively into his of associa-
own thoughts ; but when the author reduces the prin- b°n.
ciples of this association of ideas to three, viz. resem¬
blance, contiguity in time and place, and cause or effect,
he certainly contracts them within too narrow a com¬
pass. That these principles often serve to connect
ideas, will not indeed be denied. A picture leads our
thoughts to the original: the mention of one apart¬
ment in a building introduces an inquiry or discourse
concerning the others : and if we think of a wound,
we can hardly forbear reflecting on the pain which fol¬
lows it. But surely ideas sometimes succeed each
other without resemblance, without contiguity in time
or in place, and without being connected by the rela¬
tion of a cause to its effect. Besides all this, there are
other associations than of ideas. Ideas are associated
Avith passions and emotions, and passions and emotions
are associated together. A particular idea is associ¬
ated with a proper name, and often with the general
name of the species. General conceptions, such as those
which Mr Locke calls mixed modes (see Mode), are
associated with signs both audible and visible, and signs
are associated Avith each other. Surely virtue, as it con¬
sists in action and intention, does not resemble the sound
virtue, is not contiguous to it in time or in place, and
is neither its cause nor its effect ; nor is it conceivable,
that the arbitrary signs of different things should have
any natural relation to one another.
But Avere the enumeration complete, the bare men¬
tion of these principles does not account for the phe¬
nomena :
. ^ or ^ °f this subject, see some excellent observations on the common doctrine concern-
A/A?StiaCtl°n 17 lr°ieSSOr Dugall] Blewart of Edinburgh. Elements of the Philosophy of the Human
(t) No man, we think, will pretend that he can perceive at one view a million of individual men, or
“A 1ie.ca‘1! im'lkmc 01 conceive at once a million el ideal men : yet he may divide the million into parts*
wnieh, in tae one case may be easily viewed, and in the other may be easily conceived, in succession. Thus,
IOO-j-100-j-100, Sec. .
Cl P
V.
M E T A P
Hoi ley
opei !.
itionnomena: For, granting the fact, it may still be asked,
as. Why does a picture lead our thoughts to the original ;
or the mention of one apartment in a building introduce
an inquiry concerning the others ? To these questions
our author has given no answer j nor are we acquainted
with any writer who can be said to have attempted it,
except Dr JIartley and his ingenious editor. There
may be some of our readers whom the names of these
men will prejudice against their theory : but, doubtless,
the greater part are willing to adopt truth, or to exa¬
mine an ingenious speculation, from whatever quarter it
comes. To such as feel themselves otherwise disposed,
we beg leave to say, that if they allow the name of
Priestley to disgust them at what follows, they will
furnish him with a new proof of the truth of the doctrine
which they reject.
That ideas should be associated together, seems to
be inevitable from the manner in which the mind ac--
quires them. All our ideas, properly speaking, are
of sensible objects, and by far the greater part of them
of visible objects. But every sensible object conveys
at once various sensations and perceptions to the mind,
which appear not only united in fact, but inseparable
in imagination. Thus, when a man looks at any par¬
ticular object, a tree for instance, he perceives the
trunk, branches, leaves, si%s, shape, and colour, &c. of
the whole at once: he does not first perceive the figure
of the trunk, then its si%e, then its colour, then the
brunches, &c. all in succession: but a perception of the
whole is conveyed to the mind by one simultaneous
impression, (q,). We have already seen, that the
senses, in fact, convey nothing to the mind but their
respective sensations ; and that the perception of the
external object instantly follows the sensation. We
have likewise seen, that sensation is occasioned by
some impression, concussion, or vibration, given to
the nerves and brain, and by them communicated to
the mind or percipient being. We have likewise seen,
that memory depends as much upon the brain as ori¬
ginal sensation, and is always attended or occasioned
by similar concussions or vibrations, &c. These are
facts proved by universal experience, and which, we
believe, no thinking man has ever called in question.
It follows, therefore, that every actual sensation must
leave some effect in the brain, either an actual print,
which seems to be impossible, or a tendency to vibrate
or be agitated in the same way as when the original
impression was made. This being the case, it is na¬
tural to conclude, that when any part of the original
perception is revived in the memory, the whole per¬
il Y S I C S. 589
ception should be revived at once, so as that wc cannot Association
have an idea of the trunk of a tree without perceiving of Ideas,
the ideas of the branches associated with it. This is 1 v"
indeed not merely natural, but the contrary seems to
be impossible ; for as the original agitation or vibra¬
tion was occasioned by the whole tree, it is evident,
that whatever effect or tendency that agitation or
vibration left behind it, must be left bv the whole vi¬
bration, and therefore be equally related to the whole
tree.
But no object stands single in nature. When we
view a tree, or any thing else, we always notice, how¬
ever transiently, the field where it grows and the ob¬
jects around it. These two leave effects in the brain
at the same time that the tree does so •, and therefore
make their appearance with it in the memory or ima¬
gination : but if the tree was the object to which we
principally attended during the actual sensation, the
idea of it will be much more vivid than the idea of its
adjuncts, and remain much longer in the imagination
or memory ; because the original sensation by which it
was perceived, was struck much deeper than the sen¬
sation by which its adjuncts were perceived. All
this must be intelligible to every one who attends to
what we have already said of sensation, perception, and
memory.
Thus we see why a picture leads our thoughts to
the original, and why the mention of one apartment
in a building introduces an inquiry concerning the
others. It is not merely because the picture resembles
the original, and because the apartments of a building
are contiguous. Between a plain surface, variously co¬
loured and shaded, and the contour of the human
face, there is certainly very little real resemblance, as
any man may be convinced who places his eye with¬
in six inches of a good picture. But the painter, hav¬
ing by his skill in perspective, contrived to lay his
colours on the plain canvas in such a manner as that
they reflect the same rays of light with the original,
provided the spectator stand at the proper distance \
these rays proceeding from the picture fall upon the eye
in the same direction, and therefore give to the nerves
and brain the very same impulse which was given by
the original. When one apartment of a building is
mentioned, we inquire concerning the others from the
very same cause that, when we think of the trunk of
a tree which we have seen, we cannot avoid thinking
likewise of its branches.
But the principle of association takes place among Association
things not naturally connected, as the apartments oftfivesniean*
& j 1 1 a ing to the
words of
  language;
(q.) This is certainly the case with adults, but it may he doubted whether it be so with very young chil¬
dren. It has been shown already, that the sensation communicated by the eye from any visible object, has
not the least resemblance to that object j and that in looking at a tree or any thing else, a full-grown man
pays not the least attention to the appearance which the tree really makes to hi@ eye j nay, that he is not even
conscious of that appearance farther than as it consists in colour. It is by the sense ol touch only that we
acquix-e ideas of figui’e, even of plain figure } and we imagine that we perceive them by the eye only be¬
cause different figures, as distinguishable by touch, are so closely associated with their corresponding vi¬
sible sensations, that long before we are capable of inquiry, these two things axe inseparable in the imagi¬
nation. It is otherwise with children, who, when they fii’st begin to distinguish objects by the sense of sight,
appear to do it, with great deliberation, as if they first felt the proper sensation ol light and colour so or so
modified, and afterwards acquired, by something like a mental inference, a notion ol the figure at which they
are looking.
59© M E T A P
Association a building and a substance and its attributes and ad-
ot'Ideas, juncts. It is association which is the original source
1 v   0f all the general or complex conceptions which we
have, and which even gives meaning to the words of
every language. Between sounds considered in them¬
selves, and things, or the ideas of things, every one
knows that there is no natural connection 5 yet the
idea of every known object is in the mind of every
man so strictly associated with the name that it bears
in its native tongue, that the presence of the one
always suggests the other. It cannot indeed be other¬
wise, if we attend to the manner in which a child
learns to affix a meaning to the words which he hears.
—A child knows his mother and nurse, and indeed al¬
most every visible object in the family, long before he
acquires the power of articulation. The impressions
made by these objects, and repeated daily and hourly
on his brain, every one of which excites a sensation,
must soon become so deep as not to be easily eflaced.
Numbers of them too are associated together, so that
the presence of one introduces the other. It has been
already observed, that ideas of sight are the most vi¬
vid and the most lasting; but the child hearing the
same sound often repeated, even that sound comes in
time to leave in his memory a permanent idea. He
then hears the sound nurse, for instance, uttered at the
time when he is looking earnestly at the person of the
nurse, with whom he is well acquainted, and to whom
he is strongly attached; and having the two ideas re¬
peatedly excited together, they soon become so as¬
sociated, that the one necessarily excites the other :
the word nurse calls into view the idea of the woman
treasured up in his imagination.
But we need not have recourse to children for the
proof of our assertion. It is obvious that the name of
every simple and uncompounded idea can be significant
only by association. Of a complex conception the
name, may be made intelligible by a definition; but
simple ideas cannot be defined, and between ideas and
pounds there is no natural connexion, so as that the
one previous to association should suggest the other,
l-ven of complex conceptions and mixed modes, the
meaning of the names is generally acquired by as¬
sociation ; for though it is certainly true, that all such
names are capable of definition, they are yet used with
sufficient propriety by thousands, who know not what
a definition is. Were a plain unlettered man asked to
, define virtue, it is not probable that he could do it so
as to make himself understood; - yet having ideas of
the practice of justice, charity, fortitude, &c. strictly
associated in his mind with the word virtue, he mav
know the general meaning of that word as well as the
most acute grammarian or the most profound philoso¬
pher.
An alms is a donation to a poor man ; but a child
who never heard of this definition knows perfectly
what an alms is, from having often seen his parents
give money to a beggar, and call Avhat they were do¬
ing by the name alms. The sound of the word, after
having seen the first alms given, will excite in his mind
an idea of the individual object who received it, and of
the action of him by whom it was given; but after
having seen several poor men relieved, he comes to
associate with the word alms any thing given to any
person who needs it or appears to be in want.
H Y S I C S. Part
So completely does this association take place be- Associ^ii
tween ideas or clusters of ideas, and the words bv ot icka
which they are expressed, that even men of letters hear"V*
and understand perfectly many words without review¬
ing in their minds all the ideas and relations of which
they are the signs. It has been already observed, that
in talking of government, church, negotiation, conquest,
we seldom spread out in our minds all the simple ideas
of which the compound notions signified by these terms
are composed ; and we now add, that the terms may
be used with sufficient propriety, and be perfectly un¬
derstood by those who never attempted to analyze the
notions of which they are significant into their pri¬
mary and constituent parts. Every man has read num¬
berless details of the transactions of one court with
another: he has heard such transactions universally
called by the term negotiation. The term and the
transactions signified by it are so closely associated in
his mind, that they are in a manner inseparable: and
by this association he knows the meaning of the term
better than he could have done by the most complete
definition; which, perhaps, he would find it difficult
to give, or even to comprehend. ^
We have said, that {he mcaning of the word virtue and is th
is acquired by association, by having often heard thatS0luce oI
sound applied to certain actions ; but it , is extremely ?-m f;
probable, that the very notion 01 virtue, simple and tue.
uncompounded as it appears to be, is acquired in the
very same manner. 'She first rudiments of the notions
oiright and wrong and obligation seem to be acquired by
a child when he finds himself checked and controoled
by superior power. At first he feels nothing but mere
force, and consequently has no notion of any kind of
restraint but that of necessity. He finds he cannot
have his will, and therefore he submits. Afterwards he
attends to many circumstances which distinguish the
commands of a father, or of a master, from those of any
other person. Notions oi reverence, love, esteem, and
dependence, are connected with the idea of him who
gives those commands; and by degrees the child ex¬
periences the peculiar advantages of filial subjection.
He sees also that all his companions, who are noticed
and admired by others, obey their parents; and that
those who are of a refractory disposition are universal¬
ly disliked. These and other circumstances new begin to
alter and modify the notion of mere necessity, till by de¬
grees he considers the commands of a parent as seme-
thing that must not be resisted or disputed, even though
he has a power of doing it; and all these ideas coa¬
lescing, form the notions of moral right and moral ob¬
ligation, which are easily transferred from the com¬
mands of a parent to those of a magistrate, of God,
and of conscience. This opinion of the gradual for¬
mation of the ideas of moral right and wrong, from
a great variety of elements associated together, per¬
fectly accounts for that prodigious diversity in the
sentiments of mankind respecting the objects of moral
obligation ; nor do we see that any other hypothesis
can account for the facts. If the notion of moral ob¬
ligation Avere a simple uncompounded idea, arising
from the vieAv of certain actions or sentiments ; or Avere
it acquired, as it certainly might be, by a chain of
reasoning from the nature of God and the nature of
man; Avhy should it not in the one case be as invaria¬
ble as the perception of colours or sounds, and in the
other
>. V. M E T A P
tion other as our judgments of mathematical or physical
as. truths? But though the shape and colour of a flower
appear the same to every human eye ; though every
man of common understanding knows, that if a billiard
ball be struck by another, it will move from its place
with a velocity proportioned to the force of the impulse *,
and though all mankind who have but dipt into mathe¬
matics, perceive that any two sides of a triangle must
be greater than the third side 5 yet one man practises
as a moral duty what another looks upon with abhor¬
rence, and reflects on with remorse. Now a thing that
varies with education and instruction, as moral senti¬
ments are known to do, certainly has the appearance
of being generated by a series of different impressions
and associations in some such manner as we have en¬
deavoured to describe. Let not any man imagine that
this account of the origin of moral sentiments endangers
the cause of virtue, for whether those sentiments be
instinctive or acquired, their operation is the very same,
and in either case their rectitude must often be tried
by the test of reason, so that the interests of virtue are
equally safe on this as on any other scheme. See
Moral Philosophy.
ti ri-his principle of association has so great an in-
e, fluence over all our actions, passions, reasonings, and
" judgments, that there is not perhaps any one -thing
which deserves more to he looked after in the educa-
tion of youth. Some of our ideas—such as those of
a substance and its attributes, a genus and the species
contained under it, a species and its several individuals,
have a real connexion with each other in nature.
These it is the office of our reason to trace out and
to hold together in that union and order in which na¬
ture presents them to the view of the mind; for such
associations constitute perhaps the greatest part of ne¬
cessary and of useful truths. But there are others
formed by custom and caprice, which are too often
the sources of error, superstition, vice, and misery—
of errors the more dangerous, and of vice the more
deplorable 5 that it the associations have been long
formed without an attempt to dissolve them, they ge¬
nerally' become at last too strong to be broken by the
most vigorous effort of the best-disposed mind. Thus,
c's ^ a foolish maid * amuse or rather frighten children
and with stories of ghosts appearing in the dark, let her
dud repeat these fictions till they have made a deep im-
pression on the young minds, and the notion of ghosts
" will in time become so closely associated with the
idea of darkness, that the one shall always introduce
the other y and it may not be in the power of the
children, after they have become men, and are con¬
vinced in their judgments of the falsehood and ab¬
surdity of the tales which originally frightened them,
to separate entirely the notion of ghosts from the
idea of darkness, or with perfect ease to remain alone
in a dark room. Again, Let the idea of infallibility he
annexed to any person or society, and let these two
inseparably united constantly possess the mind j and
then one body in ten thousand places at once shall, un¬
examined, be swallowed for an incontrovertible fact,
whenever that infallible person or society dictates or
demands assent without inquiry.
Some such wrong and unnatural combinations of
ideas will be found to establish the irreconcilable op¬
position that we find between different sects in philo-
2
H Y S I C S. 59!
sophy and religion; for we cannot imagine every in- Association
dividual of any sect to impose wilfully on himself, and of Ideas,
knowingly to reject truth offered by plain reason.
That which leads men of sincerity and good sense
blindfold, will be found, when inquired into, to be
some early and wrong association. Ideas independent
and of no alliance to one another, are by education,
custom, and the constant din of their party, so linked
together in their minds, that they can no more be
separated from each other than if they were but one
idea : and they operate upon the judgment as if they
really were but one. This gives sense to jargon, the
force of demonstration to absurdities, and consistency
to nonsense: it is the foundation of the greatest and
most dangerous errors in the world ; for as far as it ob¬
tains, it hinders men from seeing and examining.
Before we dismiss the subject of association, it may
he proper to inquire, how far it is agreeable to the ac¬
count which we have given of the manner in which
external objects are perceived by means of the senses,
and the ideas of such objects retained in the memory. ^
—It has been proved, we think, by arguments un- princj_
answerable, that by the organs of sense nothing ispleofasso-
conveyed immediately to the mind but sensations elation opc-
which can have no resemblance to external objects, and latcs in.0,11
that the perception of an object may he resolved into of External
a process of reasoning from effects to causes.—But objects;
children, it will be said, do not reason from effects
to causes, and yet they soon acquire the faculty of
perceiving and distinguishing the objects with which
they are surrounded. This is an undoubted truth y
and it can be accounted for only by the principle of
association. A child has as much the use of his senses
as a full-grown man. By his eye he has the sensa¬
tion of colour; by his nose, that of smell; by his
ear he has the sensation of sound ; and by his hand he
feels heat and cold, resistance and bounded resistance.
Every object which is presented to him, impresses his
mind with various sensations : and these sensations
combined together are probably all that he perceives
for some years j for there is no reason to imagine that
a boy of one or two years old has the slightest notion-
of what we mean by solidity, hardness, softness, or
indeed of that which is termed substance. Yet when
two or more objects are present, he may easily distin¬
guish the one from the other, because the sensations
excited by the one must differ from those excited by
the other, as much as the real qualities of the one
are different from the real qualities of the other 5 and
by distinguishing between his own sensations, he in
effect distinguishes between the objects which produce
these sensations. His sensations too being frequently
excited, leave behind them ideas in his memory or
imagination j and those ideas, from having been im¬
printed together and never separated, become in time
so closely associated, that whenever one of them is
called into view, the others necessarily make their ap¬
pearance with it. Thus a child has a set of combined
sensations excited in his mind by the presence of his
nurse-, he has a different cluster excited, suppose by
the presence of his mother. These are often repeated
and leave deep traces behind them; so that when the
mother or the nurse makes her appearance, she is im¬
mediately recognised as a known object 5 or, to speak
more correctly, the child feels the very same sensa-.
tions
592
M E T A P
Association tions which he has felt before, from which he has expe¬
ct Ideas. rienced pleasure, and of which he has the ideas trea-
sured up in his memory or imagination. A stranger,
on the other hand, must affect him with a set of new
sensations, and of course will be distinguished from a
known object as accurately as if the child were pos¬
sessed of the notions of solidity, substance, qualities,
and distance. A man born blind, who knew not that
such things as fire and snow had never existed, would
yet distinguish the one from the other the moment
that he should be brought within their influence. He
could not indeed apply their names properly, nor say
which is the fire and which is the snow, nor would he
at first have any notion of either of them as a real, ex¬
ternal and distant object j but he would certainly di¬
stinguish his own sensations, the sensation of heat from
that of cold. It is just so with a child : At first he
perceives nothing but different sensations. These he
can distinguish} and as they are caused by differ¬
ent objects, in distinguishing between the sensations
he will appear to distinguish between the objects
themselves. In a short time, however, he acquires,
by the following process, some inaccurate notions
of distance He looks, for instance, earnestly in his
nurse’s face, and at the same time touches her
cheek perhaps by accident. He repeats this opera¬
tion frequently, till the sensation communicated by
his eye comes to be associated with that of bis touch,
and with the extending of his arm ; and being all
treasured up as associated ideas in the memory, the
sight of his nurse makes him ever afterwards stretch
out his hands with a desire to touch her. All this
while there is not the slightest probability that the
child has any notion of .substance, or qualities, or of any
thing beyond his own sensations, and the means by
which he has experienced, that sensations which are
pleasant may be obtained, and that such as are pain¬
ful may be avoided. The precise time at which a
child begins to think of external things wre cannot
pretend to ascertain ; but we are persuaded that it is
later than many persons imagine, and certainly not
till he has made considerable progress in the exercise
of reason. Prior to that period the things which men
know to be bodies, are known to children only as sen¬
sations and ideas strongly bound together by the tie of
association.
But if association be of such importance in the act
of sensation, it is of still greater in that of retention;
for it seems to constitute the whole difference that
there is between imagination and memory. By many
of the ancient, as well as by some modern philoso¬
phers, these two faculties seem to have been confound¬
ed with each other j but between them there is cer¬
tainly a great difference, though they likewise resem¬
ble each other in some respects. An idea of memory,
considered by itself, makes the very same appearance
to the intellect as an idea of imagination. We con¬
template both as if they were equal, though faint and
distant perceptions : but the one is attended with the
conviction, that it is the idea of an object which has
really been perceived at some period of past time j
whilst the other is attended with no conviction, except
that the idea itself is actually present to the mind.
Mr Hume has said, that ideas of memory differ from
those ot imagination only in being more vivid and di-
99
and seems
to distin¬
guish me¬
mory from
imagina¬
tion :
H Y S I C S. Part
stinctj but certainly this, is not always the case, An^^,
idea of imagination has sometimes been taken for a ofj^,
real perception, which an idea of memory can never
be. The difterence between these two kinds of ideas,
we are persuaded, arises chiefly, if not wholly, from
association. Every idea of memory is associated with
many others, and those again with others down to the
very moment of the energy of remembrance ; where¬
as ideas of imagination are either the voluntary crea¬
tures of the fancy at the moment of their appearance,
in which case we should call them conceptions j or
they are ideas which we have actually received from
sensation, hut which, on account of some link being
broken in the vast chain of association, w'e cannot
refer to any real objects. What gives probability to
this conjecture is, that ideas often appear in the mind
which we know not whether to refer to the memory or
imagination, nothing being more common than to hear
a person sav, I have in my head the idea ol such or such
an object; but whether I remember or only imagine
the object, I am very uncertain. Afterwards, how¬
ever, by turning the idea over and over in the mind,
he finds other ideas make their appearance, till at last
clusters of them come into view, and associate so closely
with the principal idea, which wTas the object, ol doubt,
as to convince the judgment that it is an idea ol me-
mory- . . . . 100
It has been asked, Why we believe what we distinct-an,i to t
ly remember? and to that question it has been supposed the grow
that no answer can he given. But it appears to us,0/
that association is the ground of belief in this as it will ^
he found to be in other instances 5 and that a man^
believes he washed his hands and face in the morning,
because the idea of that operation is so strongly linked
in his mind to the whole train of ideas which have
arisen in it through the day, that he cannot separate
the first from the last, that which was a sensation in
the morning from the sensations which are present at
the instant of remembrance. As these ideas are asso¬
ciated by nature, each must pass in review in its pro¬
per order 5 so that in so short a space of time there is
no danger, and hardly a possibility', of taking the first
for tiie last, or the last for the first. Nay more, we
will venture to hazard an opinion, that every past
event of a man’s life, which he distinctly remembers,
is tied by the chain of association to his present per¬
ceptions. That this is possible is certain, since it is
not difficult to conceive how it may be done. The
principal events of a single day may surely be so linked
together as to be all distinctly reviewed in a cluster
of ideas on the morrow. Of these events some one or
other must he the most important, which will there¬
fore make its appearance as an idea more frequently
than the rest, and be more closely associated with the
events of next day. Some event of that day will, for
the same reason, be more closely associated with it
than the others ; and these two, dropping perhaps all
the rest of their original companions, will pass on to¬
gether to the third day, and so on through weeks, and
months, and years. In the compass ol a year, several
things must occur to make deep impressions on the
mind. These will at first be associated together by
events of little importance, like the occurrences of a
single day. Whilst these feeble chains, however,
continue unbroken, they will be sufficient to Lnk the
one
c tp. V. M E T A P
ation one important event to the other, and to bring them
o ieRs. both into view at the same time, till at last these twro,
- -—'from appearing so often together, will in time unite
of themselves, and the intermediate ideas be complete¬
ly effaced. Thus may two or three important events
of one year be associated with such a number of simi¬
lar events of another year, so that the ideas ot the
one shall always introduce to the mind the ideas of the
other, and this chain of association may pass from the
earliest event which we distinctly remember through
all the intermediate years of our lives down to the in¬
stant when memory is exerted.
To this account of memory it may perhaps be ob¬
jected, that it gives us no distinct notion of time.
Every thing that is remembered is necessarily believed
to have been present in some portion of past time j
but association brings into view nothing but a series
of events. This objection will be seen to have no
weight when we have inquired into the nature of time,
and ascertained what kind of a thing it is. It will
then perhaps appear, that duration itself, as appre¬
hended by us, is not distinguishable from a series of
events j and that if there were no train of thought
passing through our minds, nor any motion among
the objects around us, time could have no existence.
Meanwhile, whatever become of this opinion, we beg
leave to observe, that our theory of remembrance is
perfectly consistent with the commonly received no¬
tions respecting time j and indeed, that it is the only
theory which can account for numberless phenomena
respecting past duration. It is universally allowed,
that if motion, or a succession of events, do not consti¬
tute time, it is the only thing by which time can be
measured. Now it is a fact which no man will deny,
that the distance of time from the present now or in¬
stant to the earliest period which he distinctly remem¬
bers, appears to his view exti*emely short, much shorter
than it is said to be in reality j and that one year,
when he looks forward, appears longer than two, per¬
haps longer than ten, when he looks backward. Upon
our principles this fact is easily accounted for. We
remember nothing which is not linked by a chain of
associations with the perceptions of the present mo¬
ment } and as none but a few of the most important
events of our lives can be linked together in this man¬
ner, it hence follows, that events which, in the order
of succession, were far distant from each other, must
thus be brought together in the memory, and the whole
chain be contracted within very short limits. But
when we figure to ourselves a series of future events,
we employ the active power of fancy instead of the
passive capacity of retention j and can therefore bring
within the compass of one periodical revolution of the
sun a longer series of imaginary events succeeding
each other, than is preserved of real events in our me¬
mory from the earliest period of our existence : So
perfectly does our theory accord with this well known
fact. On the other hand, if memory be an original
• faculty of the mind totally independent of association,
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
H Y S I C S. 593
and of which no other account is to he given than of Consci-
that it necessarily commands our belief, why is it a fa-ousness and
culty which, with regard to duration, thus uniformly Reflection.
deceives us P and how comes it to pass, that to a man
whose memory is tenacious, who has read much, seen
many countries, and been engaged in various occur¬
rences, any determinate portion of past time always
appeal's longer than to another man whose memory is
feeble, and whose life has been wasted in ease and idle¬
ness P To these questions we know not what answer
can be given upon any other principle than that which
makes the evidence of memory depend upon associa¬
tion. But if we remember nothing but what is linked
to the perception or idea which is present with us at
the time of remembrance, and if duration is measured
by the succession of events, it is obvious that any portion
of past time must necessarily appear longer to him who
has many ideas associated in the mind than to him who
has but few. ioi
There is not perhaps a single fact of greater import-The import¬
ance in the philosophy of the human mind than the
association of ideas; which, when thoroughly understood, t],e p|1i]oso„
accounts for many of those phenomena which some latephy of the
writers of name have, with injury to science and with human
danger to morality, attributed to a number of distinct™01*'
and independent instincts. It is for this reason that we
have considered it so minutely, and dwelt upon it so
long; and in addition to what w'e have said on the sub¬
ject, we beg leave to recommend to our more philoso¬
phical readers the diligent study of Hartley’s Observa¬
tions on Man (r). In that work we think several
things are taken for granted which require proof; and
some which, we are persuaded, have no foundation in
nature : but, with all its defects, it has more merit
than any other treatise on the sensitive part of human
nature with which we are acquainted.
Chap. VI. Of Consciousness and Reflection.
102
Sensation, remembrance, simple apprehension, and Conscious-
conception, with every other actual energy or passion oe.ss-wl!at
of the mind, is accompanied with an inward feeling
or perception of that energy or passion ; and that feel- objects,
ing or perception is termed consciousness. Consciousness
is the perception of what passes in a man’s own mind
at the instant of its passing there; nor can we see, hear,
taste, smell, remember, apprehend, conceive, employ our
faculties in any manner, enjoy any pleasure, or suffer
any pain, without being conscious of what we are do¬
ing, enjoying, or suffering. Consciousness is only of
things present *; and to apply it to things past, is to ^Reid's F.s-
confound consciousness with memory or reflection. One
cannot say that he is conscious of what he has seen ff
or heard and now remembers : he is only conscious of Man.
the act of remembrance ; which, though it respects a
past event, is itself a present energy. It is likewise to
be observed, that consciousness is only of things in the
mind or conscious being, and not of things external.
It is improper in any person to say that he is conscious
4 F of
(r) Since this was written, Mr Stewart’s Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind have been pub¬
lished ; in which the reader will find many excellent remarks on the nature and influence of the associating
principle.
) 94
M E T A P H Y S 1 C S.
Of Consci- of the table before him ; tie perceives it, he sees it, and
ousness and he may with great propriety say, that he is conscious he
Reflection. perceiVes or sees it j hut he cannot say that he is con-
’ dcious of the table itself, for it is only his immediate
energy ot perception that can be the object of con*
sciousness. All the operations of our minds are at¬
tended with consciousness j
Part
which is the only evidence
that we have or can have of their existence. Should
a man take it into his head to think or to say that his
consciousness may deceive him, and to require a proof
that it cannot, we know of no proof that can be given
him : he must be left to himself as a man that denies
first principles, without which there can be no reason¬
ing. Every attempt to prove this point, or to set it
in a clearer light, would only serve to render it more
dark and unintelligible. I t/nnk, I Jeel, I exist, are
IO, first truths, and the basis of all human knowledge.
3)es Cartes’ This has given rise to the question, whether Des
argument Cartes did not fall into an absurdity when, inferring
nam con- 0Wn existence from his actual thought, he said,
ro!°hko*vn Cogito, ergo sum. This argument has been called a
existence, pitiful sophism, and a petitio principii ; because, before
a man take it for granted that he thinks, he must also,
it is said, take it for granted that he exists, since there
cannot be thought where there is no existence. Now
it must be confessed, that if Des Cartes pretended by
this argument to give us a fresh conviction of our own
existence, his endeavours were useless and puerile ; be¬
cause a man capable of being convinced by the argu¬
ments of another, must have a previous conviction of
his own existence : but the argument itself is certainly
* See Buf- neither a sophism nor a petitio principii. Those * who
Truth t'e*'enc^ Des Cartes assert, and there is no reason to
doubt the truth of their assertion, that his only view
in urging such an argument was not to prove the
truth of our existence, but to exhibit the order of
that process by which we arrive at the knowledge of
the fact ; and this he has very clearly done by analyz¬
ing the truth into its first principles. A stone exists
as well as the human mind j but has the stone any
knowledge of its own existence P No man will say that
it has \ neither should we have any knowledge of ours,
did we think as little as the stone. We certainly might
exist without thinking, as it is probable we do in very
sound sleep ; and in that state our existence might be
known to other beings, but it could not possibly be
known to ourselves : for the only things of which the
mind is conscious, or has immediate knowledge, are
its own operations. I exist is therefore a legitimate in¬
ference from the proposition I think ; and the observa¬
tion that it is so may be useful to show us the procedure
of the mind in the acquisition of knowledge ) but it has
little merit as an argument, and still less as a discovery,
though, being strictly true and just, it should never have
been exposed to ridicule.
It is to be observed, that we are conscious of many
things to which we give very little attention. We
can hardly attend to several things at the same time j
from consci-and our attention is commonly employed about that
ousness. which is the object of our thought, and rarely about
the thought itself. It is in our power, however,
when we come to the years of understanding, to give
attention to our own thoughts and passions, and the
various operations of cur minds. And when we make
these the objects of our attention, either while they
T04
Reflection,
what it is,
and how
different
are present, or when they are recent and fresh in our of Cons,
memory, we perform an act of the mind which is pro- misness a
perly called reflection. This reflection ought to be di- Reflectio
stinguished from consciousness * ; with which it is con-
founded sometimes by Locke, and often by the learned wysuni
author of Ancient Metaphysics. All men are conscious liiteliecti
of the operations of their own minds at all times while lowers n
they are awake, nor does it appear that brutes can be ^an’
w holly destitute of consciousness j but there are few men
who reflect upon the operations of their minds, or make
them the objects of thought j and it is not probable that
any species of brutes do so.
From infancy, till wre come to the years of under¬
standing, we are employed solely about sensible objects.
And although the mind is conscious of its operations,
it does not attend to them j its attention is turned
solely to the objects about which these operations are
employed. Thus, when a man is angry, he is conscious
of his passion •, but his attention is turned to the person
who offended him and the circumstances of the offence,
while the passion of anger is not in the least the object
of his attention. The difference between consciousness
and reflection, is like the difference between a superfi¬
cial view of an object which presents itself to the eye,
while we are engaged about something else, and that
attentive examination which we give to an object when
we are wholly employed in surveying it. It is by con¬
sciousness that wre immediately acquire all the know¬
ledge which we have of mental operations j but atten¬
tive reflection is necessary to make that knowledge ac¬
curate and distinct. Attention is a voluntary act j it
requires some exertion to begin and continue it j and
by great exertion it may be continued for a consider¬
able time *, but consciousness is involuntary, and of no
continuance, changing with every thought. The
power of reflection upon the operations of their own
minds does not at all appear in children. Men must
have come to some ripeness of understanding before
they are capable of it. Of all the powers of the hu¬
man mind it seems to be the last that unfolds itself.
Most men seem incapable of acquiring it in any con¬
siderable degree ; and many circumstances conspire to
make it to all men an exercise of difficulty. The dif¬
ficulty, however, must be conquered, or no progress
can he made in the science of our own or of other
minds.
All the notions which wTe have of mind and of its All our 1
operations are got by reflection j and these notions are11011®®1
by Mr Locke called ideas of reflection. This term we ^enr^es
think extremely ill chosen ; and we believe it has been fy r,
the source of much error and confusion among Locke’s flection
followers. A man, by attending to the operations of
his own mind, may have as distinct notions of remem¬
brance, of judgment, of will, of desire, as of any object
whatever : but if the secondary perception of a sensible
object, that appearance which it has to the mind when
viewed in the memory or imagination, be properly call¬
ed an idea, it is certain that of the operations of the
mind itself there can be no ideas; for these operations,
when reflected on, make no appearance without their
objects either in the memory or in the imagination.
Nothing is more evident, in fact, than that we have no
ideas, in the original and proper meaning of the word,
but of sensible objects upon which the mind exerts its
first operations. Of these operations we have indeed a
consciousness-,
I05
\
{
(
]
tap. VI,
lonsci- consciousness ; but abstracted from their objects we can-
ics and not frame of them any idea or resemblance. We are
ection. conscious to ourselves of thinking, willing, remembering,
^ discerning, reasoning, judging, &c. but let any one
look into himself, and try whether he can there find
any idea of thinking, or willing, &c. entirely separate
and abstracted from the object of thought or will.
Every' man who has seen a tree or a house, wrill find in
his mind ideas of these objects, which he can contem¬
plate by themselves, independent of every thing else j
but no man can contemplate the idea of thinking or
desiring without taking into view the thing thought on
or desired. It is plain, therefore, that the energies of
thinking, willing, and desiring, with all their various
modifications, are not themselves ideas, or capable of
communicating ideas to be apprehended, as the ideas of
bodies are apprehended by the pure intellect. They
are the actions and workings of the intellect itself upon
ideas which we x-eceive from the objects of sense, and
which are treasured up in the memory or imagination
for the very purpose of furnishing the intellect with
materials to work upon. Between ideas and the
energies of thinking there is as great and as obvious a
difference as there is between a stone and the energies
of him by whom it is cast. Ideas are the passive sub¬
jects ; the energies of thinking are the operations of
the agents. Ideas are relicts of sensation, and have a
necessary' relation to things external $ the energies of
thinking are relicts of nothing, and they are wholly and
igS originally internal.
know- That we can in no sense of the word be said to have
;e of the ideas of the operation of the intellect, will be still more
itellect ev^en*'5 if we consider by what means we acquire the
lediate knowledge which we have of those operations. It has
not by been already observed, that when our thoughts are
inter- employed upon any subject, though wre are conscious of
lion of thinking, yet our attention is commonly employed upon
the object of our thought, and not upon the thought
itself 5 and that if we would give attention to our
thoughts and passions, we must do it by a reflex act of
the mind, whilst the act of thinking is still recent and
fresh in our memory. Thus, if a man wishes to know
what perception is, it is not the time to make the in¬
quiry while he is looking at some rare or beautiful ob¬
ject ; for though he is conscious of the energy of perceiv¬
ing, the object of perception employs all his attention.
But the time to make this inquiry is either when the
object has become familiar to him, or presently after it
is removed from his sight. In the former case, he can
look upon it without emotion, pay attention to every
step in the process of perception, and be immediately
conscious w’hat perception is. In the latter case, by
turning his attention inwards, and reflecting on what
he did or felt when the object was before him, he will
find clear and vivid ideas of every thing which he per¬
ceived by his sense of sight j but he will find no idea of
the act of seeing dr perceiving. On the contrary, if he
be capable of sufficient attention, he will observe that
. his intellect is employed in the very same manner upon
the ideas that it was upon the original sensations; and of
that employment, and the manner of it, he will be
equally conscious as he was of the original energy exert¬
ed in sensation. There is indeed this difference between
the two, without which reflection could make no dis¬
coveries, that the most vivid ideas being still faint when
595
compared with actual sensations, the intellect xs not so of Consci-
wholly engrossed by them, as it was by the original ousness and
objects, nor is it so rapidly carried from idea to idea ttellecUoie
as it was from sensation to sensation. It is thus at
leisure to attend to its own operations, and to know
what they are; though to form ideas of them as sepa¬
rate from their objects, is absolutely impossible. Every
man capable of paying attention to what passes with¬
in himself when he sees, hears, and feels, &c. may have
very accurate of seeing, hearing, and feeling, &c.
but he cannot have ideas of them as he has of the ob¬
jects of sight, hearing, and touch.
The same is the case with respect to the exertion of
our reasoning faculties. A man must have distinct
and clear ideas to reason upon, but he can have no
idea of reasoning itself, though he must be conscious
of it, and by attention may know what it is. When a
man sits down to study for the first time a proposition
in the Elements of Euclid, he certainly employs bis
reasoning faculty, and is conscious that he is doing so $
but his attention is wholly turned to the diagram be¬
fore him, and to the several ideas which the diagram
suggests. Afterwards, when he has mastered the pro¬
position, he may go over it again, with a view to dis¬
cover what reasoning is 5 but he will not find he has
any idea of reasoning as he has of the diagram. He
will only exert that faculty a second time, and perceive
one truth linked to and depending upon another in
such a manner that the whole taken together forms a
complete demonstration. In a word, the operations
of our own minds, when attention is paid to them, ai*e
known immediately by consciousness j and it is as im¬
possible that we should have ideas of them, as that a
living man should be a picture upon canvas. He who
attends to what passes in his own mind when he per¬
ceives, remembers, reasons, or wills, must know by
consciousness what these operations are, and be capable
of forming very accurate notions of them, as connect¬
ed with their objects ; and he who does not attend to
what passes in his own mind will never acquire any
notions of them, though he were to read all that has
been written on the subject from the days of Pytha¬
goras to those of I3r Reid. IOy
As we acquire ideas of external objects by means There are
of our senses j and notions of perceiving, remember- dungs
ing, reasoning, and willing, &c. by reflecting on the
operations of our own minds j so there are other things jy j)V scnsa.
of which we acquire notions, partly by Sensation, part-tion and
ly by reflection, and partly by means of that faculty of partly by
which it is the more peculiar office to compare ideas ^ectlon»
and to perceive truth. Such are substance, body, mind,
with their several qualities, adjuncts, and relations j
the knowledge of which, as has been already observed,
constitutes what in strictness of speech is termed the
science of metaphysics. These shall be considered in
order, after we have investigated the nature ol truth,
and inquired into the several sources ol evidence j but
there is one notion, about the origin and reality of
which there have been so many disputes, which in it¬
self is of so great importance, and which will be so in¬
timately connected with all our subsequent inquiries,
that it may not be improper to consider it here.—The 10$
notion to which we allude is of power. ^lir notion
Among the objects around us we perceive frequent Power .
changes, and one event regularly succeeding another. ac<luu~
4 F 2 “ Gold
METAPHYSICS.
5yS M E T A P
Of Consci Gold thrown Into the fire is changed from a solid to
oasncss and a fluid body. Water exposed to a certain degree of
Reflection. co](l is changed from a fluid to a solid body. Night
  succeeds to day, and summer succeeds to winter. We
are conscious of new sensations in ourselves every hour.
We are likewise conscious of reasoning, willing, and
desiring ; and we know that by an exertion of will we
can rise or sit, stand still or tvalk, call one idea into
view, and dismiss others from our contemplation. Ex¬
perience teaches us, that it is not occasionally, but al¬
ways, that gold is changed into a fluid, by being
thrown into the fire, and water into a solid body by
being exposed to a certain degree of cold 5 that night
succeeds to day, and summer to winter. These changes
have regularly taken place since the creation of the
world ; and it has never once been observed that ivater
was made solid by fire, or gold rendered liquid by cold.
Were we not assured by experience that our own vo¬
luntary motions are produced by exertions of our
minds, of which we are conscious, and that without
such exertions those motions would never have taken
place, we should probably have considered the lique¬
faction of gold as an event equally independent of fire,
though uniformly conjoined with it, as night is inde¬
pendent of day, and day of night. But having expe¬
rienced that we can move or not move our bodies as
we please; that when it is our will to sit, we ne¬
ver get up to walk ; and that when we wish to
walk, we always do it except prevented by ex¬
ternal violence : having likewise experienced, that by
a thought, by some internal and inexplicable ex¬
ertion of our minds, we can call up in our memory or
imagination one idea and dismiss others from our men¬
tal view; we are led to believe with the fullest con¬
viction, that all those motions of our bodies which in
common language are termed voluntary, and that suc¬
cession of.ideas which follows a conscious exertion of
the mind, depend upon ourselves. In other words,
we are necessitated to believe that we have a. power to
move or not move our bodies in many cases, and a
power to turn our attention to one idea in preference to
others.
It is thus that we acquire the notion of power in
ourselves, which-we easily transfer to other objects.
Knowing that the various motions of our bodies thus
effected proceed from power, we are naturally led to
inquire whether the changes which we perceive in
other bodies may not proceed from power likewise, i. e.
from something analogous to that power, of the ex¬
ertions of which we are conscious in ourselves. Now
uniform experience teaching us that gold is liquefied
by being thrown into the fire, and that water is made
solid by being exposed to cold 5 we infer with the utmost
certainty that there are powers in fire and cold to pro¬
duce these changes, and that without the exertion of
such powers these changes would not be produced.
We cannot indeed say. of external powers, as we can
of our own, in what substance they inhere. We
know with the utmost certainty that the voluntary
motions ol our hands, &c. are produced by a power
not inherent in the hands but in the mind, for of the
exertion of that power we are conscious ; but we do
not know whether the power which liquefies gold be
inherent in that sensible object which we call fire, or
in something else to which fire is .only an instrument.
H Y SICS. Part
We learn by observation, that the minute particles of Of Coir
fire or heat insinuate themselves between the particles °usness
of gold, and, if we may use the expression, tear them ,Kulecti
asunder j but whether they do this in consequence of v"'
a power inherent in themselves, or only as instruments
impelled by another power, is a question which obser¬
vation cannot enable us to answer.
Were we not conscious of the exertion of our own
powers, it seems not conceivable that we could ever
have acquired any notion of power at all; for power
is not an object of sense, nor, independent of its ope¬
rations, is it indeed an object of consciousness. In ex¬
ternal operations, all that we perceive is one thing, in
which we suppose the poiver to reside, followed by
another, which is either the change or that on which
the change is produced) but the exertion of the power
itself we do not perceive. Thus we perceive gold,
after it has been some time in the fire, converted from
a solid to a fluid body ; but we perceive not by our
senses either the power or the energy of the power
which operates to this conversion. In the exercise
of our own powers, the case is otherwise. When a
man puts his hand to his head, and afterwards thrusts
it into his bosom, he not only perceives by his senses
the change of position, but is also conscious of the
energy or exertion by which the change was pro¬
duced.
“ Suppose (says Mr Hume*) a person, though
endowed with the strongest faculties of reason and re¬
flection, to be brought on a sudden into this world;
he would indeed immediately observe a continual suc¬
cession of objects, and one event following another,
but be would not be able to discover any thing far¬
ther. He would not at first by any reasoning be able
to reach the idea of cause and effect; since the parti¬
cular powers by which all natural operations are per¬
formed never appear to the senses. The impulse of
one billiard ball is attended with motion in the se¬
cond. This is the whole that appears to the outward
senses. The mind feels no sentiment or inward im¬
pression from this succession of objects j consequently
there is not, in any single particular instance of cause and
effect, any thing which can suggest the idea of power
or necessary connexion. From the first appearance
of an object, we never can conjecture what effect will
result from it 5 but, were the powrer or energy of any
cause discoverable by the mind, we could foresee the
effect even without experience j and might at first pro¬
nounce with certainty concerning it by the mere dint
of thought and reasoning. It is impossible, therefore,
that the idea of power can be derived from the con¬
templation of bodies in single instances of their opera¬
tions 5 because no bodies ever discover any power which
can be the original of this idea.”
There is a sense in which this reasoning is unque¬
stionably just. A man who had never been conscious
of exerting power in himself, would certainly not ac¬
quire the notion of power from observing a continual
succession of external objects. The impulse of one
billiard ball being followed by the motion of another,
would no more lead him to the notion of power in the
former, than the succession of night to day would
lead him to the notion of a power in light to produce
darkness. When Mr Hume says, “ that from thefit^st
appearance of an object we can never conjecture what ef¬
fect
(jap. VI. METAPHY SIC S. 597
ons„j_ feet will result from it,” lie uses language that is ambi- only one, and that an easy, method of refuting it j by OfConsci-
JLsandguous, and utters an assertion which is either true or producing that idea, which, in their opinion, is not ousness and
ijpction. fa]se according to the sense in which it is understood. derived from this source. Secondly, It it happen, K-cllectiom
^ v 1 Jf ^ be meant, that after having reflected on the ope- from a defect of the organ, that a man is not suscep-
rations of our own minds, and learned by experience tible of any species of sensation, we always find that
that motion is communicated by impulse from one he is as little susceptible of the correspondent ideas,
ball of ivory to another,' we could not conjecture whe- A blind man can form no notion of colours, a deaf
ther a similar effect would be produced by the impulse
of balls made of other hard bodies which we had ne¬
ver before seen, the assertion is manifestly false. A
man who had but once seen motion communicated in
this manner from one ivory ball to another, would cer¬
tainly conjecture that it might be communicated from
one wooden ball to another; and if he had seen it re¬
peatedly communicated from one ball to another of
different substances, he would infer, with the utmost
confidence, that it might be communicated from ball
to ball of whatever substance composed, provided that
substance be hard, or of a similar texture with the
balls to the impulse of which he had formerly paid
, attention. If by this ambiguous phrase the author only
means, as is probably the case, that from the first appear¬
ance of an object to which we had never before observ¬
ed any thing in any respect similar, wre could not con¬
jecture what effect would result from it } or it his mean¬
ing be, that a man suddenly brought into the worldj
who had never acquired such a notion of power as may
be had from attention to the energies and operations
of our own minds, would not, by observing an effect
to result from one body, conjecture from the first ap¬
pearance of another similar body what effect would
result from it; in either of these cases his assertion is
certainly true, and tehds to ppve, that without the
consciousness of the operations of our own minds we
could never acquire a notion of power from the changes
perceived by our senses in external objects.
09 But Mr Hume, not contented with denying, which
) lume }ie might justly do, that we could ever have deriv-
t 'That0 ec^ t^ie *dea Power merely from observing the con-
v ^ at tinual succession of external objects, labours hard to
1 no no-prove that we have no notion of power at all, and
1 what- that when we use the word poiver\ we do nothing
e more than utter an insignificant sound. rlo pave the
^ r way for the arguments by which so extravagant a pa¬
radox is to be supported, he lays it down as a “ propo¬
sition which will not admit of much dispute, that all
our ideas are nothing but copies of our impressions;
or, in other words, that it is impossible for us to think
of any thing that we have not antecedently either
by our external or internal senses.'’ As this propo¬
sition, however, will admit, it seems, of some dispute,
he takes care, before he applies it to the purpose of
demolishing all power, to support it by two argu¬
ments. “ First (says he), when we analyze our
thoughts or ideas, however compounded or sublime,
we always find that they resolve themselves into such
simple ideas as were copied from a precedent feeling
or sentiment. Those who would assert, that this posi-
-tion is not universally true nor without exception, have-
man of sounds. And though there are few or no in¬
stances of a like deficiency in the mind, where a per¬
son has never felt, or is wholly incapable of a senti¬
ment or passion that belongs to fiis species: yet we
find the same observation to take place in a less de¬
gree. A man of mild manners can form no idea of
inveterate revenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish heart
easily conceive the heights of friendship and gene-
rosity.” no
As these propositions are the engines by which all His reason-
power is banished from the world, it may not be im- j0P*“s'
proper, before we proceed to inquire by what means
they perform so arduous a task, to consider their own
inherent strength; for if they be weak in themselves,
their work, however dexterously they may be em¬
ployed, can have no stability. We have already no¬
ticed the perverseness of this writer’s language, when
it confounds sensations with impressions; but here it is
still more perverse, for passions, sentiments, and even
consciousness, are styled impressions. When sensations
are confounded with impressions, the effect is only mis¬
taken for the cause, it being universally known that
sensations proceed from impressions made upon the
organs of sense. When consciousness is confounded
with an impression, one thing is mistaken for another,
to which it is universally known to have neither re¬
semblance nor relation. But, not to waste time upon
these fallacies, which, though dangerous if admitted,
are yet too palpable to impose upon a reader capable of
the slightest attention, let us examine the propositions
themselves. The most important, and that for the
sake of which alone the others are brought forward,
is, that it is impossible for us to think of any thing
that we have not immediately /c/Z, either by our exter¬
nal or internal senses.” Hid Mr Hume then never
think of a mathematical point, or a mathematical line ?■
Neither of these things is capable of being felt either
by making an impression upon the organs of sense or
as an object of consciousness; and therefore it is im-*
possible that he should ever have had ideas of them
such as he doubtless had of sensible objects; yet in
the most proper sense of the word think (s), he cer¬
tainly thought of both points and lines ; for he appears
to have made considerable progress in the science of
geometry, in which he could not have proceeded a
single step without a perfect knowledge of these things;
on which the whole science is built. It is not there¬
fore true, that our thoughts or ideas, when analyzed,
always resolve themselves into -such simple ideas as
were copied from a precedent feeling or sentiment ;
for every mathematical figure of which we can think
resolves itself into a point and motion ; and a point
having
fs) Thinking, in the propriety of the English tongue, signifies that sort of operation of the mind about its
ideas wherein the mind is active; where it, with some degree of voluntary attention, considers anything—
Locke i
59^
Ilcflcction.
in
Things of
which we
can have
no ideas
may them
selves be
ys M £ T A P H
OfConxei- having no parts aild no magnitude, cannot possibly be
oustiess and the object of feeling to any ot our senses. If, there-
foi*e, ideas alone be the objects of thought, we have
refuted Mr Hume’s position by the very method which
he himself lays down j for we have produced an idea
which is not derived either from a precedent feeling or
a precedent sentiment. By sentiment, we suppose to
be here meant that which by other philosophers is de¬
nominated consciousness j and of consciousness it is un¬
deniable that nothing is the object but the actual ener¬
gies of our own minds.
But ideas are not the only objects of thought. e
have already given our reasons for restricting the word
idea to that appearance which an object of sense, when
reflected on, makes either in the memory or imagina¬
tion. Such was undoubtedly its original signification ;
the objects and had it never been used to denote other and very
of thought, different objects, much error and perplexity would have
been avoided, which now disgrace the science of me¬
taphysics. Things may themselves be the objects of
thought j and when that is the case, to think of their
ideas, were it possible to do so, would be worse than
useless j for we may certainly know a man better by
looking at himself than by looking at his picture. Of
things which are themselves the objects of thought, we
have either a direct or a relative knowledge. We know
directly the actual operations of our own minds by
the most complete of all evidence, that of conscious¬
ness ; and wTe have a relative notion of mathematical
points and lines: but neither of mental energies nor
of these external things (x) can we possibly have any
idea.
It is well observed by Hr Reid *, that our notions
both of body and mind are nothing more than rela¬
tive. “ What is body ? It is, say philosophers, that
things, which is extended, solid, and divisible. Says the que-
* Essay on rist, I do not ask what the properties of the body are,
the Active but what is the thing itself? let me first know direct¬
ly what body is, and then consider its jiroperties.
To this demand I am afraid the querist will meet
with no satisfactory answer; because our notion of
body is not direct, but relative to its qualities. We
know that it is something extended, solid, and divi¬
sible, and we know no more. Again, If it should be
asked, what is mind ? It is that which thinks. I ask
not what it does, or what its properties are, but what
Y S I C S.
Part
our notion of0f c0J
£12
We have
only rela¬
tive notions
of some
Powers of
Man.
it is ? To this I can find no answer;
mind being not direct, but relative to its opera-ousness a
tions, as our notion of body is relative to its quali-keflectio
ties (u).” ‘'•“■"v—
Our notion of a mathematical point is of the very
same kind. W hat is a point ? It is, says Euclid, that winch,
which has no parts and no magnitude. Replies the however,
querist, I ask not either what it has or what it has not,weca!lri
let me first know what it is ? To this second question, ^
it might perhaps be answered, that a mathematical precision
point is that which by motion generates a line. But,
rejoins the querest, I am not inquiring what it gene¬
rates j give me a direct idea of the point itself ? or, if
that cannot be done, as surely it cannot, tell me what
its offspring a line is ? A line, says Euclid, is length
without breadth. I have no idea, replies the querist,
of length without breadth. I never felt an impression
from a sensible object which did not suggest length,
breadth, and thickness, as inseparably united; and I
can have no idea which is not the copy of a former im¬
pression. To assist the querist’s conception, it may be
said that lines are the boundaries of a superficies, and
that superficies are the boundaries of a solid bodv} and
of a solid body every man has a clear and direct idea,
in the most proper sense of the word. Here then are
several things, viz. points, lines, and superficies, of not
one of which is it possible to form a direct notion ; and
yet we know them so thoroughly, from the relation
which they bear to other subjects, that we can reason
about them with a precision and certainty which only
the mathematical sciences admit.
The great advantage of these sciences above the And sue
moral, Mr Hume himself expressly admits : but hek power
attributes it to a wrong cause, when he says it consists
in this, that the “ ideas of the former being sensible
are always clear and determinate }” for we see that the
notion of a point or ot a line is merely relative, and
cannot possibly be the copy of a sensation, or, in his
language, of a sensible impression. If then we have
clear and determinate notions of points and lines, and
may reason about them without ambiguity, as he ac¬
knowledges we may, what is there to hinder us from
having an equally clear and determinate notion of
power, or from reasoning about it with as little ambi-
guity (v) : Why, says he, we are not conscious of
power. And to prove this position, which needs no
proof,
(x) By calling mathematical points and lines external things, we do not mean to attribute to them any cor¬
poreal existence. We know well that they are merely creatures of the mind, and that if there were no mind,
they could have no existence. But twenty men may at the same instant have a notion of the same lines and the
same points , and therefore these lines and points have an existence independent of, and external to, any o?ie mind,
at least to any one human mind. I he objects, however, of which a man is conscious, are in no sense whatever
external, for they are present to no human mind but his own.
(u) The opinions of philosophers concerning corporeal and spiritual substances shall be considered more fully
hereafter. In quoting from Hr Reid on another subject, we have been obliged to anticipate his opinion, which
will be found to be not more modest than just.
(v) « There are some things of which we can have both a direct and relative conception. I can directly
conceive ten thousand men, or ten thousand pounds, because both are objects of sense, and may be seen. But
whether 1 see such an object, or directly conceive it, my notion of it is indistinct; it is only that of a great
mu i u e o men, or of a great heap of money \ and a small addition or diminution makes no perceptible
change m the notion I form in this way. But I can form a relative notion of the same number of men or of
pounds by attending to the relations which this number has to other numbers greater or less. Then I perceive
that the relative notion is distinct and scientific j for the addition of a single man, or a single pound, or even
of
c ip. vi. METAPHYSICS.
0 jnsci- Pr0°f» ^1C makes many observations that, however just,
599
cll , ss and might certainly have been spared. Of these one is, that
Hi lion “ a man suddenly struck with a palsy in the leg or arm,
u ’ or who had now lost these members, frequently endea¬
vours at first to move them, and employ them in their
usual offices. Here he is as much conscious of power
to command such limbs, as a man in perfect health is
conscious of«power to actuate any member which re¬
mains in its natural state and condition. But consci¬
ousness never deceives. Consequently, neither in the
one case nor in the other are we ever conscious of any
power.” This is true j we never are conscious of any
power; but we arc frequently conscious of actual
energies : and the man who, after being suddenly
struck with a palsy, endeavours in vain to move his
leg or arm, is as conscious of energy as he who in
health makes the attempt with success. Nor let it be
imagined that his consciousness deceives him j for, as
Mr Hume justly observes, consciousness never deceives.
He is certain of the energy, but finds by experience
that the instrument of this energy has suddenly become
disordered and unfit for its usual office. In this and
this alone consists the difference between the paralytic
and the man whose limbs are sound. The one may be
as conscious of energy as the other, and his consci¬
ousness may be equally infallible. What then is this
energy ? Mr Hume will not say that it is an idea, for
it is not the copy of any antecedent impression ; be¬
sides, he has somewhere allowed that ideas are never
active. Is it then a substance ? Impossible ! for it is
not permanent : and wre believe no man will ven¬
ture to affirm, or even to suppose, that the same sub¬
stance can be repeatedly annihilated, and as often
created. Is it then the occasional exertion of some
substance ? This must be the truth $ for no other sup¬
position remains to be made. If so, that substance
must be possessed of power ; for a capacity of exert¬
ing actual energy is all that is meant by the word power.
—“ Wherever there is a capability of energy or exer¬
tion, there must be power; for though there can be
no exertion without power, there may be power that
is not exerted *. Thus a man may have power to speak
when he is silent j he may have power to rise and walk
when he sits still. But though it be one thing to speak
and another to have the power of speaking,. vre al¬
ways conceive of the power as something which has a
certain relation to the effect *, and of every power we
form our notion by the effect which it is able to pro¬
duce. Nor is it only in speaking and moving his
limbs that a man is conscious of energy. There is as
much energy, though of a different kind, in thinking
as in acting. Hence the powers of the human mind
* d's
£; s on
th. dive
P( "S of
M
have been divided into active and speculative. By the Of Consci-
former we move the body ; and by the latter we see, ousness and
hear, remember, distinguish, judge, reason, and per- Reflection.
form upon our notions and ideas every other opera¬
tion which is comprehended under the general word
to think.” Ir£
Mr Locke f has introduced into his theory of powe^r Locke’s
another distinction than that which we have made be-Pass*ve
tween active and speculative powers. Observing byj^Yoper
our senses, under which on this occasion memory is expression.
certainly included, various changes in objects, we col-f Essay,
lect, says he, a possibility in one object to be changed,book “•
and in another a possibility of making that change,2r*
and so come by that idea which we call power. Thus
we say that fire has a power to melt gold, and that gold
has a power to be melted. The first he calls active, the
second passive, power. But to say that \\w possibility of
being changed is/Jou’cr, seems to be a very improper
mode of speaking, and such as may lead to consequences
which the excellent author certainly held in abhor¬
rence. It tends to make unwary readers imagine that
the passive subject is as necessary to the existence of
power, as the active being of which power is an at¬
tribute \ but if the universe had a beginning, and if
its Creator be immutable, two propositions which Mr
Locke firmly believed, there certainly was power when
there was no change, nor any thing existing which wras
capable of change. He owns, indeed, that active power
is more properly called power than the other ; but we
see no propriety at all in passive powrer. “ It is (in the
language of Drlieid) a powerless power, and a contra¬
diction in terms.” 116
But though Locke here uses improper terms, he dust obser.
has other observations with which we have the honour
fully to agree, and which lead to consequences the re- author re¬
verse of that impiety which seems to follow from the specting
notion of passive power. He observes, that “ we have power as
from body no idea at all of thinking, nor any idea qfbelonging
the beginning of motion. A body at rest affords us ui-nj y
no idea of any active power to move ; and when it is
set in motion itself, that motion is rather a passion
than an action in it. For when the ball obeys the
stroke of a billiard stick, it is not any action of the ball,
but a passion : also, when by impulse it sets another
ball in motion that lay in its way, it only communi¬
cates the motion it had received from another, and
loses in itself so much as the other received j which
gives us but a very obscure idea of an active power of
moving in body, whilst we observe it only to transfer,
but not to produce any motion. So that it seems to
me, we have from the observation of the operation of
bodies by our senses but a very imperfect obscure idea
of
of a penny, is easily perceived. In like manner, I can form a direct notion of a polygon of. a thousand equal
sides and equal angles. This direct notion cannot be more distinct when conceived in the mind, than that
which I get by sight when the object is before me 5 and I find it so indistinct that it has the same appearance to
my eye, or to my direct conception, as a polygon of a thousand and one, or of nine hundred and ninety-nine
sides. But when I form a relative conception of it, by attending to the relation it bears to polygons of a
greater or less number of sides, my notion of it becomes distinct and scientific, and I can demonstrate the pro¬
perties by which it is distinguished from all other polygons. From these instances it appears, that our relative
conceptions of things are not always less distinct, nor less fit materials for accurate reasoning, than tnose that are
direct j and that the contrary may happen in a remarkable degree.”
Reid's Essays on the Active Powers of Mam
6oo META F
Of Consci- of active power, since they afford us not any idea in
misness and themselves of the power to begin any action either ot
Reflection._ mot^on or thought/’ He thinks it evident, however,
V “ that we find in ourselves a power to begin or for¬
bear, continue or end, several actions of oUr minds and
motions of our bodies, barely by a thought 01 plc“
ference of the mind ordering, or, as it were, command¬
ing, the doing or not doing such or such a particular
action. This power which the mind has thus to order
the consideration of any idea, or the forbearing to con¬
sider it, or to prefer the motion of any part of the
body to its rest, and vice versa, in any particular in¬
stance, is that which wre call will. The actual exer¬
cise of that power, by directing any particular action,
or its forbearance, is that which We call volition or
1x7 willing.
Whence it According to Mr Locke, therefore, the only clear
follows, notion or idea We have of power, is taken from the
such bein s Power whieh We find in ourselves to give certain motions
asVave wfll to our bodies, or certain directions to our thoughts 5
and under- and this power in ourselves can be brought into action
standing on]y by willing or volition. This is exactly our doc-
real M>vve-S t™16 '•> where wTe have endeavoured to prove, that
rea powei. .^bout the consciousness of actual energy in ourselves,
we never could have acquired any notion at all ot
power from observing the changes which take place
among external objects. But if this be so, if the poiver,
of which alone we know any thing, can be brought
into action only by willing or volition, and if will ne¬
cessarily implies some degree of understanding, as in
us it certainly does, it conies to be a question of the
first importance, whether any being which possesses not
will and understanding Can be possessed of real power,
or be the efficient cause of any action. This question
we feel ourselves compelled to answer in the negative.
If we had not will, and that degree of understanding
which will necessarily implies, it is evident that we
could exert no powerj and consequently could have
none : for power that cannot be exerted is no power.
It follows also, that the power, of which alone w7e
can have any distinct notion, can be only in beings
that have understanding and will. Power to produce
any effect, implies power not to produce it; and we
can conceive no way in which power may be deter¬
mined to one of these rather than the other in a being
that has not will. We grow from infancy to man¬
hood •, we digest our food, our blood circulates, our
heart and arteries beat; we are sometimes sick and
sometimes in health : all these things must be done by
the power of some agent, but they are not done by
our power. And if it be asked how we know this ?
the answer is, because they are not subject to our will.
This is the infallible criterion by which we distinguish
what is our doing from what is not} what is in our
power from what is not. Human power can be ex¬
erted only by will: and we are unable to conceive any
active power to be exerted without will. If, therefore,
any man affirms that a being may be the efficient cause
of an action which that being can neither conceive nor
will, he speaks a language which we do not under¬
stand. If he has a meaning, he must take the words
power and efficiency in a sense very different from ours:
tor the only distinct notion, indeed the only notion
which we can form, of real efficiency, is a relation be¬
tween the cause and effect similar to that between
3
H Y S 1 C S. Part
us and our voluntary actions. It seems therefore most of Cond
probable, that such beings only as have some degree of outness si
understanding and will can possess active power, and Peflect'°|
that inanimate beings must be merely passive. Nothing 'r“
which we perceive without us affords any good ground
for ascribing active power to any inanimate being j and
we can as little conceive such a being possessed of power
as we can conceive it capable of feeling pain. On the
other hand, every thing which wTe discover in our own
constitution, leads us to think that active power cannot
be exerted without will and intelligence : and to affirm
that it can, is to affirm what to us at least is a contra¬
diction in terms. j,g
To this reasoning, which is Hr Reid’s *, and which An objecl
to us appears unanswerable, we have heard it objected, l‘on °tvi
that a man born blind has the same evidence for the^g^,,
non-existence of colour that is here urged for the im-Sfl^S0n!
possibility of power being exerted without will and Active
understanding. If the objection had not been made Fowm
by a very acute man, we should have deemed it alto- ^ar"
gether unworthy of notice j for betwreen the two cases
supposed to be similar there is hardly any analogy. A
man born blind has no notion whatever of colour. If
you describe it to him in the best manner you can,
and refer it to any of the senses which he possesses;
if you say that it is the object of feeling, and that by
feeling it one may perceive things at the distance of
many miles ; the blind man has reason to say that you
are uttering a proposition which he knows with the
utmost certainty cannot possibly be true. But if you
tell him that colour is the object of the sense of sight,
a sense which he possesses not j that it has not the least
resemblance to the objects of the other senses } and
that persons endowed with the sense of sight perceive
coloured objects at the distance of many miles 5 the 1
blind man cannot know whether what you say be true
or false, because he has no idea or conception of the
things of which you speak. This is not the case with
respect to power 5 for every man who has reflected on
the operations of his own mind has a very distinct no¬
tion of pow7er, and knows perfectly, that to the actual
exertion of the only power which he can conceive, will
and understanding are necessary. Should it be said
that there may be power altogether diflerent from that
of which we have a distinct conception, wTe think it
sufficient to reply, that of a thing which cannot be
conceived nothing can be either affirmed or denied:
that activity exerted without will and understanding
ought not to be called an exertion of power, because
power is the name already appropriated to the attri¬
bute of a being by which he can do certain things if
he wills 5 that as we can form no notion of a real effi¬
cient cause which has not will and understanding, so
we have no reason to believe that such a cause any¬
where exists; and to say that power, such as we can
conceive, may be exerted without will and understand¬
ing, is as great an absurdity as to say that there may be
velocity without space.
But if active power, in its proper meaning, requires
a subject endowed with will and intelligence, what
shall we say of those active powers which philosophers
teach us to ascribe to matter, the powers of corpuscu¬
lar attraction, magnetism, electricity, gravitation, and
others ? These powers, as they are called, shall be con¬
sidered when we treat of the nature and source of cor-
iap. VII. META ? H Y S I € S. 6c i
Truth, poreal motion. In tlie mean time, it is sufficient to
-v——^ observe, that whatever the agents may he in the ope¬
rations of nature, whatever the manner of their agency
or the extent of their power, they depend upon the
First Cause, and are all under his controul.
Chap. VII. 0/ Truth, and the different Sources
of Evidence.
Sect. I. Of Truth.
By pursuing these inquiries in the order which to
us appears most natural, we are now led to the contem¬
plation of those faculties of the human mind of which
truth is properly the object. But what is truth ? This
was a famous question among the Greek sophists;
which had been so often agitated, and to which so
many absurd answers had been given, that it came at
lasV to be doubted by men of the world whether a
satisfactory answer could be given, or indeed whether
the matter was worthy of investigation. It is avcR
known, that among the ancient philosophers there
V'as a sect called from their principles Sceptics, and from
their founder PyrrJtonicms, who openly avowed their
opinion that truth, like virtue, is nothing but a name j
that all things are equally true, or rather equally douht-
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
ful ; and that it is in vain for man to hope for Ceiiain- Of Truth-
ty in any inquiry in which he can be engaged. Such-v——'
scepticism as this no modern philosopher has professed ;
but many have had enough of it to make sober men
hesitate about defining truth, and even insinuate that
of truth no definition can be given. This surely is a
mistake. If truth cannot be defined, it still venders
at large and in disguise, and vain must be the pursuit
of every man who endeavours to obtain it 5 he is pur¬
suing he knows not what. r f
So obvious and so solid is this reflection, that almost Truth de*
every philosopher of merit who has lately written on fined,
the nature of evidence has begun his work, if not
with a formal definition, with something at least equi¬
valent to a definition of the object of his pursuit. To
repeat all these definitions could serve no other pur¬
pose than to swell this article to a disproportioned
bulk, and to perplex perhaps the mind of the reader.
We shall therefore content ourselves with that which
is given by Mr Wollaston. “ Those propositions (says
he) are true which represent things as they are : or
truth is the conformity of those words or signs by
which things are expressed to the things themselves.”
Notwithstanding the objections of a very learned and
acute writer (w), this is the best definition of truth
which We have met with in any language. It is con-
4 G cise
(w) Dr Tatham having asked with a contemptuous air, How imperfect and illogical is the definition of
truth given by Wollaston P proceeds, though not to define, to describe or characterize it himself. “ Truth
(says he) is of the nature and essence of God, like him incomprehensible in the whole, and ineffable in its sub-
limer parts. For these and other reasons it cannot admit of an adequate definition. And who, in the beginning
of his researches, should presume to define that which, after all his longest and best conducted labours, he
can only hope partially, and often imperfectly, to comprehend ; and of which an important part can neither
be directly expressed nor directly understood ? We may indeed esteem ourselves highly favoured by the Author
and Finisher of all truth, if at the end of our researches, we shall be able any way to understand, to define,
and to apply, a few particular portions and detachments of it, and to guard them from error and corrup¬
tion. When upon a solemn occasion the question was put to our Lord by a.Roman governor, What is truth?-
though it was what he fully and perfectly knew, and what he came purposely and professedly to teach, he did
not define it. He knew that definition wTas never the best method of instruction ; and that in its common use
and application it was seldom the friend of truth. Philosophically viewed, Avords do not constitute truth j
they are only the vocal instruments by which it is communicated, or the written signs by which it is recorded.
By an inquirer, therefore, things are to be examined rather than Avords defined. By a teacher, things are to he
conveyed by Avords in some form or other, which are doubtless to be explained to the understanding, if not
sufficiently understood before. But explanation is one thing, and definition quite another. Explanation is the
first office of a teacher : Definition, if it he good, is the last of the inquirer, after the truth be found j and is
then the most advantageously employed by the teacher, Avhen his previous instructions have prepared him for it.
God is a mind, and truth is consequently an attribute of mind. To the sun, declaring at his rising a marvel¬
lous instrument, He by whom all things Avere made hath delegated the poAver of enlightening the material system:
whilst he hath reserved to HIMSELF the office which is more suitable to his nature, of giving light and
knowledge, by his eternal TRUTH, to the mind of man. But whether he acts through the instrumentality of
his creatures, or more immediately from himself, he is uniform and consistent in his operations } so that one part
of his divine economy is always illustrative of another. As the SUN sheds his light over the material creation
to be apprehended by the eye, TRUTH is the light shed down from heaven to be apprehended by the intellect,
given to illumine every subject, natural and moral, corporeal and spiritual, so far as they are qualified by their
different natures to convey it to the human mind, or rather perhaps so far as the human mind is qualified
to receive it from them.” The Chart and Scale of Truth, vol. i.
This passage, of which some parts are certainly not remarkable for perspicuity, seems to be descriptive, not
of truth in the common acceptation of the ivord, but of all knowledge human and divine, of which indeed no
adequate definition can be given. Truth, as here used, seems to be opposed to ignorance ; as used by Mr Wol¬
laston and others, it is opposite to falsehood. In this last sense it may certainly be explained, if not defined j and
if the learned lecturer Avill allow that Mr Wollaston has given a good explanation of the word truth as opposed to
falsehood, Ave shall not quarrel AA'ith him or any man about the propriety of an expression. We have called it a
definition of truth } because it AVas so called by the author from whom it is taken.
6o2
Of Truth, else and perspicuous. It comprehends all kinds of
< y——i truth, as well that which is merely mental, the subject
of silent contemplation, as that which is communicated
either by written language or by the living voice : and
it makes truth itself immutable, as depending not upon
the arbitrary constitution of this or that individual,
or even of the whole human race (x), but upon the
nature of things as established by their Almighty
Creator.
120 According to this definition, every proposition which
Every pro- can |,e expressed or apprehended is necessarily either
thermic61' true or false, whether its truth or falsehood be perceiv-
or false. ed or not either by him who hears or by him who ut¬
ters it. All propositions are either affirmative or nega¬
tive } but before any thing can with certainty be af¬
firmed or denied of another, we must know those things
as they are in themselves, as well as the established
use of the signs by which they are expressed. He who
affirms or denies without this knowledge, speaks at
random, and has no distinct meaning,
iat Every faculty which we possess is in some way or
Every hu- 0ther an instrument of knowledge ; for we know by
"cmcemed^ our senses, by our memory, and by our intellect,
in the Every one of our faculties, therefore, is concerned in
acquisition the acquisition of truth, and furnishes the mind with
of truth. the materials of propositions. These propositions are
indeed of various kinds j but they are all certainly true
or certainly false, though the certainty of the truth or
falsehood of every one it is not always in our power to
perceive.
When a man affirms that red is a quality inherent
cf'bd'ief'af *n a so^ier,s coat, he utters a proposition which every
fects not one ^e vulgar firmly believes to be true, but which
the truth every philosopher knows to be false. This diversity
of what is of belief, however, affects not the truth of the propo-
bclieved. gition itself. All mankind know that it is either true
or false, independent of them or their perceptions j
and it is easy, by a few optical experiments and by an
explanation of terms, to convince them all, that what
they have agreed to call red is no quality inherent in
external objects, but only a sensation caused by the
impulse of certain rays of light reflected from certain
objects to the eye of the percipient. The contrariety
therefore in this case of vulgar to philosophical belief,
does not result from any ambiguity in the nature of
truth itself, but from the different means of perception
which the clown and the philosopher possess.
Part ] j
Again, Were a man looking at a red and a green ob- Of Ti c
ject, to affirm that they are both of the same colour, v—-v«.
he would affirm what in one sense may be true, what
in another is undoubtedly false, and what in a third
may be either true or false. If it be his meaning that
the two objects give to him the same sensation, he may
know with the utmost certainty that what he says is
true j if he mean that they affect all mankind precise¬
ly as they affect him, he utters what all mankind with
the most absolute certainty know to be false j if he
mean that the texture of the two bodies (that parti¬
cular disposition of parts on their surfaces which makes
them reflect certain rays of light and absorb others) is
exactly similar, so as that the one must reflect the very-
same kind of rays with the other, he utters what all
mankind must believe to be false, though still it is pos¬
sible that what he affirms may be true. This diversity
of belief affects not the truth itself. The two objects
are what they are by whomsoever perceived, or whe¬
ther perceived or not : the rays of light reflected by
each are what they are, whether they fall upon this,
upon that, or upon any eye *, and the sensation com¬
municated to this singular man is certainly what he is
conscious it is, as those of the rest of mankind are with
equal certainty what they are conscious of. This be¬
ing the case, it is obvious and undeniable, that the or¬
gans of sight in this individual of the human race are . q
somehow differently formed from those of other men :
and the only question which can occasion a doubt in
the mind of the sceptic is, whether his or their eyes
be so formed as to represent things falsely ? for that i si
by the one or the other things are falsely represented,
is as evident as that two contradictory propositions
cannot both be true. Now, though, for any thing we
know it is certainly possible, as to us it appears not to
imply any contradiction, that the eyes of but one man $
are formed in a manner suitable to their objects, whilst
the eyes of all other men are formed to deceive them j
yet the contrary is so highly probable, that no man
really doubts of it any more than he doubts whether
three and two be equal to five. 12
This last proposition is indeed said to express a truth Why si| j ^
absolutely certain, whilst the former expresses a truth i ,,
which is called morally certain : not that there is any Absolut ] *
difference or degrees of certainty in the nature of truths an(j 6ti|j
themselves j the only difference is in our power of per- moral!.'
ceiving them. That three and twro are equal to five,certaul : >,
is
M E T A P H Y SICS.
(x) Hr Beattie, in his elegant essay, has given a definition of truth very different from this, though it is
possible that his meaning may be the same with Mr Wollaston’s. “ I account that to be truth (says he)
which the constitution of our nature determines us to believe ; and that to falsehood which the constitution
of our nature determines us to disbelieve.” But if truth be really immutable, as he teaches or wishes to teach,
it must depend upon the nature of things, and not upon the instinctive impulse of any particular constitution.
It is always difficult, often impossible, to distinguish between the constitution of our nature, as it came from
the hand of God, and the same constitution as it is moulded by arbitrary and capricious associations of our
own. A sincere member of the church of Home certainly believes the doctrine of transubstantiation. How
he may do so we have already shown. Were all mankind sincere members of that church, it would be said
and thought, “ that the constitution of human nature determines men to believe transwbstantiation a doctrine
which, though it is rejected by millions, Pere Buffier has laboured hard to reconcile with common sense. liet it
is certain that the same body cannot be in different places at the same time •, and that therefore transubstantiation
must be false, though believed by all mankind. Our believing any thing does not make it true, nor our disbeliev-
1 ig any thing make it false. We must, indeed, act according to our belief j but in every instance truth and false¬
hood would have been what they are, though we had never existed.
dap. VII. METAP
i Truth. said to be au absolute truth ; because we perceive
^ the whole of it as it is in itself, and are convinced that
every intelligence from the highest to the lowest who
understands the terms in which it is expressed perceives
it as we do: whereas of moral or physical truths, as they
are called, we only perceive a part, and may therefore
mistake for want of evidence. Thus, in the case of
the two objects exhibiting the same colour to one man,
whilst they exhibit different colours to all other men,
could we see into the objects themselves, and compre¬
hend them immediately with our intellect as we com¬
prehend our own ideas, it might, and no doubt would,
appear as palpable a contradiction to say that the par¬
ticular’ disposition of the parts on the surfaces, which
reflect the rays of light, are the same in both, as it is
now to affirm that three and two are not equal to five.
Between truth and falsehood there is no medium. All
truths are in themselves equally certain ; and to the
Supreme Being, who knows the nature of every thing
more fully and intimately than rve know our own
ideas, they all appear equally certain: but yet we may
without absurdity speak of probable truth as well as of
certain truth, provided always that we make the dif¬
ference to result, not from the nature of things, but
from the power of our understanding, which compre¬
hends the one kind of truth wholly and the other only
I I 24 partially.
p some There is another division made of truth into that
1 ti s are which is eternal and necessary, and that which is tem-
srtobe 1 J
U al and P^rary, ant^ «
:: inisary, oi applying th
Upt thing but real
jar j *n8 has been used by all philosophers, we shall give in-
„ „erca stances of each kind of truth, and endeavour to ascer-
1 ri and tarn in what the distinction consists. “ ihe three
i'1 i ngent. angles of a plain triangle are equal to two right angles,”
is a proposition expressive of a necessary and eternal
truth. “ The world exists,” is a contingent and tem¬
porary truth. Here it is obvious, that if both these
propositions be true, there is no distinction between
them, so far as mere truth is concerned 5 for truth ad-
jii I mits not of degrees of comparison. It is however said,
iti that the first proposition depends not upon time, or
will, or any thing else j and that the Supreme Being
himself could not make it false : whereas it is certain¬
ly possible, that he who created the world could anni-
iM • hilate it, and thus reduce what is now a truth to an
absolute falsehood. This difference between the two
propositions is thought a sufficient ground for calling
the former a necessary and eternal truth, and the latter
a temporary and contingent truth. But is the difference
itself real ? In the present instance w7e cannot think
that it is : for if the right angles and triangles, which
constitute the materials of the former proposition, be real
corporeal things, they may be annihilated as well as the
rest of the wmrld 5 and then the truth of the proposition
will cease, for there can be neither equality nor inequa¬
lity between nonentities. If the angles and triangles
be merely ideas in the mind of a rational being, it is not
to be denied that the proposition must be true, inde¬
pendent of all will, whenever those ideas exist, i. e.
whenever right angles and triangles are thought upon ;
mtingent. i hough we do not approve
e epithets temporary and eternal to any
existences, yet as this manner of speak-
H Y S I C S. 603
but if all reasonable creatures were to.be annihilated, Of Truth.
and the Supreme Being never to think of triangles,
the proposition would unquestionably cease to be either
true or false. The world may indeed be annihilated ;
but it certainly is not annihilated whilst any one
creature exists to contemplate even that which is called
necessary and eternal truth : and therefore whilst any
truth exists in a mind not divine, it must be necessarily
true that the world exists 5 for the individual being by
which truth is perceived would then constitute the
whole world.
But if in a somewhat different manner we compare
the former of these propositions with this, “ The solar
system consists of the sun and at least seven primary
planets,” we shall at once perceive the difference be¬
tween necessary and contingent truths. Both propcsi-
tions we know to be true at this moment : but there is
this difference between them, that a plain triangle can
neither actually exist at any period of duration, nor
be conceived by any one mind divine nor human, of
which the three internal angles are not precisely equal
to two right angles ; whereas the solar system may
easily be conceived, and might certainly have been
formed, with a smaller number of primary planets
rolling round the central fire. This needs no proof;
as it is well known, that till very lately we conceived
the system to consist of the sun and only six primary
planets; and it has been already shown, that whatever
we can positively conceive may possibly exist. Thus,
then, every proposition, of which the contrary is clearly
and distinctly perceived to be impossible, is a necessary
truth 4 and it may likewise be said to be eternal,
because at every period of duration it must of necessity
when thought upon be perceived to be true : On the
other hand, every proposition of which the contrary
may be clearly and distinctly conceived, is, if true,
only a contingent truth, because its contrary might have
existed j and it may likewise be called temporary,
because what might have been false in time past may
yet be false in time future. r2t;
Though all our faculties (our senses, our memory, Truth per-
and our intellect), furnish materials for propositions, ceived by
and are therefore all subservient to the investigation picukics11^
truth 5 yet the perception of truth, as it is in itself, is which are
commonly ascribed to our rational faculties j and these coramonly
have by Locke and others been reduced to tw'o—rea- said t0 be
son and judgment. The former is said to be conver-
sant about certain truths, the latter chiefly about pro-
babilities. 126
Some late philosophers of great merit, dissatisfied To which
with this analysis of the intellect, have added to rea- *omePbi¬
son and judgment a third faculty, to which they have ]lavj,
given the name of common sense, and of which the pro-a third ta¬
per object is such truths as neither admit nor stand inculty, viz.
need of evidence. By common sense they mean, “ that comm°n
degree of judgment which is common to men withsaise'
whom we can converse and transact business.” Whe¬
ther the introduction of such a term into metaphysics
was proper or improper, we do not think it of import¬
ance to inquire. According to this definition of it,
which is Dr Reid’s, it differs not from the reason (y)
SinA judgjnent of Locke 5 agreeing with the former when
4 G 2 its
(y) This is expressly acknowledged by Dr Reid.
“ It is absurd (says that able and candid writer) to
conceive
604 M E T A P
Of Intuitive its object is certain truth, and with the latter when it
Evidence is conversant about probabilities. Nothing indeed is
and De- more evident, than that in the assent of the mind to
monstra- eve|.y pr0pOSition, some energy of the judgment is ex-
. tton' , erted ; and upon every proposition not self-evident, rea¬
soning of some kind or other must be employed to pro¬
cure that assent. Instead therefore of perplexing our¬
selves and our readers with various analyses of the hu¬
man understanding, or rather with various names to
what after all is perhaps but one individual power, it
will surely be of more importance to the cause ol truth
to examine the different sources of evidence by which
the assent of the reason, or judgment, or common sense,
is determined.
Under the article Logic it was observed, that intui¬
tion, experience, and testimony, are each a sufficient
ground of judgment; but they are not the only grounds.
Consciousness is certainly one source ol evidence, per¬
haps the most complete of any } and, in a low degree,
analogy is another. Of consciousness we have already
treated, but of analogy we have yet said nothing : and
though we might (for an account of intuition, experience,
and testimony) refer our readers to the article Logic,
where they are accurately though concisely explained,
wre shall, without repeating what has been already said,
add a few words on each, as well to complete the pre¬
sent article as to supply the deficiencies of the former.
Sect. II. Of Intuitive Evidence and Demonstration.
127
Intuitive
evidence,
what.
* Camp¬
bell’s Phi¬
losophy of
Rhctonc.
Intuitive evidence is that which arises from the
compai-ison of two or more ideas or notions when their
agreement or disagreement is perceived immediately,
without the intervention of any third idea or notion.
Of this kind is the evidence of these propositions : One
and four make five * j things equal to “ the same
thing are equal to one another; the whole is greater
H Y S I C S. part
than any of its parts and in a word, all the axioms ofinmit
in arithmetic and geometry. All these are in reality Eviden
propositions in which the subject and predicate appear and I><
upon comparison to be nothing more than the same mo!lstr
thing taken in different views or expressed by different >
terms. In fact, they are all in some respect reducible
to this axiom, “ Whatever is, is.” We do not say
that they are deduced from it ; for they have in them¬
selves that original and intrinsic evidence which makes
them, as soon as the terms are understood, to be per¬
ceived intuitively. And if they be not thus perceived,
no deduction of reason will ever confer on them any ad¬
ditional evidence. But though not deduced from the
general axiom, they may be considered as particular ex¬
emplifications of it 5 inasmuch as they are all implied
in this, that the properties and relations of our clear
and adequate ideas can be no other than what the
mind clearly perceives them to be. I2g
It may perhaps be thought, that if axioms were pro-Every d
positions perfectly identical, it would be impossible bymons.tra >
their means to advance a single step beyond the simple
ideas first perceived by the mind. And it would in-fntuitjY( ’
deed be true, that if the predicate of the proposition evident,
were nothing but a repetition of the subject under the
same aspect, and in the same or synonymous terms, no
conceivable advantage could be made of it for the fur¬
therance of knowledge. Of such propositions as these,
for instance, “ seven are seven, eight are eight, the
three angles of a triangle are the three angles of a tri¬
angle, two right angles are two right angles,” it is ma¬
nifest that wre could never avail ourselves for the im-
provement of science : But when the thing, though
in effect coinciding, is considered under a different as¬
pect ; when that which is single in the subject is di¬
vided in the predicate, and conversely j or when what
is a whole in the one is regarded as a part of some¬
thing else in the other ; such propositions lead to the
discovery
conceive that there can be any opposition between reason and common sense. It is indeed the first-born of rea¬
son ; and as they ai’e commonly joined together in speech and in writing, they are inseparable in their nature.
W e ascribe to reason two offices or two degrees : the fii’st is to judge of things self-evident $ the second to draw
conclusions that are not self-evident from those that are. The first of these is the province, and the sole province
ot common sense; and therefore it coincides with reason in its xvhole extent, and is only another name for one
branch or one degx'ee of x'eason.” Pere Buffier talks nearly the same language ; but Dr Beattie expx*esses himself
rei'y differently. “ I hat thei'e is a real and essential difierence between these two faculties ; that common sense
cannot be accounted for by being called the perfection of reason, nor reason by being resolved into common sense ;
will appear (he thinks) from the following remarks : 1. WT are conscious, from internal feeling, that the enei’gy
of understanding, which perceives intuitive truth, is different from that other energy which unites a conclusion
with a first principle by a gradual chain of intermediate relations. 2. W e cannot discern any necessary connexion
between reason and common sense. Nay, he says, “ That we often find men endued with the one who are
destitute of the other:” and he instances dreams and certain kinds of madness where this is the case } adding,
that a man who believes himself made of glass, shall yet reason very justly concerning the means of preseiwing his
siqxposed brittleness from flaws and fractures.” Surely these are strange remarks. Dreams and madness have
hitherto been supposed to oi’iginate in the imagination, or, as it was denominated by the ancient philosophers, the
phantasia: and when the ideas or forms which are there treasured up are disarranged or absurdly compounded,
a dreaming sane man or a walking madman, if he reason at all, must reason from absurd principles : not, however,
through any defect of common sense, but from a disorder in that xegicn of the brain, upon which the phantasia
more immediately depends. Of his fii’st remark, we can only say, that to us it.appears to be the reverse of truth.
n every proposition which admits of demonstration, we are conscious that the conclusion is united with the first
principle by a repetition of the very same energy of the understanding which perceives intuitive truth. That
t ns is the case in every one of Euclid’s demonstrations, ive appeal to every mathematical reader j and why it
must be so, we shall by and by endeavour to evince.
*p. VII. METAPHYSICS.
tuitive discovery of innumerable and apparently remote rela-
lence tions. It is by the aid of such simple and elementary
principles that the arithmetician and the algebraist pro-
stra" ceed to the most astonishing discoveries. Nor are the
^ —j operations of the geometrician essentially different :
for to this class belong all propositions relating to
number and quantity ; that is, all which admit of ma¬
thematical demonstration. If the truth of a mathe¬
matical proposition be not self-evident 5 in other words,
if the subject and predicate do not appear at first sight
to be different names for the same thing, another term
must be found that shall be synonymous to them both.
Thus, to prove that the three internal angles of a right-
lined triangle are equal to two right angles, I produce
the base of the triangle j and by a very short process I
discover that the exterior angle so formed is equal to
the two interior and opposite angles. By a process
equally plain and short, I perceive that the exterior
angle and the interior adjacent angle are equal to two
right angles : But I have already seen, that the ex¬
terior angle is neither more nor less than the two in¬
terior and opposite angles under a different aspect ;
whence it appears that the three internal angles of the
triangle are nothing else than two right angles under
a different aspect. In a word, all demonstration is
founded on first principles or primary truths, which
neither admit nor stand in need of proof, and to which
the mind is compelled to give its assent by a bare in¬
tuition of the ideas or terms of which these primary
truths are composed. Nothing is susceptible of de¬
monstration, in the rigid sense of the word, but gene¬
ral, necessary, and eternal truths j and every demon¬
stration is built upon intuition, and consists in a series
of axioms or propositions of the very same kind with
the first principle or truth from which the reasoning
proceeds. That propositions formerly demonstrated
are taken into the series, doth not in the least invali¬
date this account; inasmuch as these propositions are
all resolvable into axioms, and are admitted as links in
the chain ; not because necessary, but merely to avoid
the useless prolixity which frequent and tedious repeti¬
tions of proofs formerly given would occasion. But
it is obvious that such truths only as result from the
comparison of ideas and notions are necessary ; and of
course that such truths only are capable of strict de¬
monstration. The truths which relate to real exist¬
ences are all contingent, except that which affirms the
existence of the Supreme Being, the Parent of all
truth.
The mathematical sciences, categorical logic, and
that part of metaphysics which demonstrates the being
of God, are therefore the only branches of human
knowledge which admit of strict demonstration. I he
longest demonstration in the mathematical sciences may
be traced to this general and necessary truth, “ hat-
ever is, is,” or to some particular exemplification of
it: the longest train of categorical syllogism terminates
in this general principle, “ A hat is affirmed or denied
.of a whole genus, may be affirmed or denied of au the
species, and all the individuals belonging to that genus :
and the metaphysical demonstration of the being of
God rests upon this foundation, “ Whatever had a be¬
ginning, had a cause.” That these are truths abso¬
lutely certain, which can neither be proved nor called
ia question, every man may be satisfied, merely by at¬
tending to the ideas or notions which the terms of each
proposition express. The two first are merely identical
propositions, of the truth of which no man has ever
pretended to doubt 5 and though the last is not identi¬
cal, it is a necessary and self-evident truth, as its con¬
trary implies, that in the same thing there is power and
no power, change and no change, action and inaction,
at the same instant.
Before wre dismiss the subject of intuition, it may
not be improper to observe, that it is by this faculty
or power of the mind contemplating its ideas, and com¬
paring one idea with another, that we acquire all our
notions of relation : such as identity and diversity, re¬
semblance, coexistence, relations of space and time, rela¬
tions of quantity and number, of a cause to its effect, and
many more which it would be useless as well as tedious
to enumerate.
Sect. III. Of Experience and Analogy.
605
Of Experi¬
ence and
Analogy.
129
It is by in¬
tuition that
we acquire
all our no¬
tions of re¬
lation.
130
It has been just observed, that intuition and demon-Experi-
stration are applicable only to general and necessary enee, the
propositions, of which the contrary are not only false, resu5t ®r re'
but absurd and impossible. The great business of life, '• °
however, is with tacts and contingent truths, which
admit not of demonstration, but rest upon other evi¬
dence. The senses, external and internal, are the in¬
lets to all our knowledge of facts } and the memory is
the storehouse where that knowledge is preserved. Of
what a man sees or feels, he can at the instant of see¬
ing or feeling eutertain no doubt ; and whilst the ideas
of what he has seen or felt, with all their associated
circumstances, remained vivid and distinct in his memo¬
ry, he is conscious that he possesses so much real know¬
ledge. But all our knowledge, as it is derived from
the senses, is of particular facts or particular truths ;
and the man who has in certain circumstances observed
one particular phenomenon, for the existence of which
he perceives no necessity, has not sufficient ground to
conclude, that in similar circumstances similar pheno¬
mena will always occur. Milton, who surpassed the
greater part of his cotemporaries in philosophical
science almost as far as he has surpassed all succeeding
poets in the sublimity of his genius, represents Adam,
when first falling asleep, as under apprehensions that
he was about to sink into his original state of insensi¬
bility :
Gentle sleep
“ First found me, and with soft oppression seiz’d
“ My droused sense, untroubled ; though I thought
“ I then was passing to my former state
“ Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve.”
Apprehensions similar to these would take place in his
mind when he first perceived that darkness had over¬
spread the earth. In his circumstances, he could have
no ground to expect that the sun when once set would
rise again to relume the world, as he had not then ex¬
perienced the alternate succession of light and dark¬
ness, and probably knew not whence light proceeds.
After some time, however, having observed day and
night regularly to succeed each other, these two ap¬
pearances, or the ideas of them, would be so associated
in his mind, that each setting sun would suggest the
idea of next sunrising, and lead him to expect that
6o6
M E T A P
marks on
the IXrs
Reid, &c.
Of Expen- glorious event with the utmost confidence. He would
ence and then consider the alternate succession of day and night
Analogy. ag a iav7 0f nature, which might be affirmed in a pro-
' v position expressive of a certain truth.
Is the only This continued observation of the same event hap-
evidence pening in the same or similar circumstances, is what
that we we call experience ; and it is the only evidence which
tfe6eneral we ^ave ^or the general truths in physics, even for
truthsTin a those which we are apt to think intuitively certain *.
physics, Thus, that milk is white, and that gold is yellow, are
even those supposed to be universal and necessary truths : but for
th^nk^in'6 any thing that we know, they may be particular
tuitively truths} and they are certainly contingent, as the con-
certain. trary to either of them may be supposed without ab-
* Camp- surdity. We have indeed always observed the milk
bells Pin- 0f animals of every species white; and therefore the
Rhetoric- ^ea w^e becomes a necessary part of our idea of
and Priest- the substance milk, of which we call whiteness an es-
ley's Re- sential property. This, however, respects only the milk
of those animals with which we are acquainted. But
since the milk of all the animals with which we are ac¬
quainted, or of which we have heard, is white, we
can have no reason to suspect that the milk of any
new and strange animal is of any other colour. Also,
since wherever there has been the specific gravity, duc¬
tility, and other properties of gold, the colour has al¬
ways been yellow; we conclude that these circumstan¬
ces are necessarily united, though by some unknown
bond of union, and that they will always go toge¬
ther.
The proper proof, therefore, of such universal pro¬
positions as “ milk is white,” “ that gold is yel¬
low,” or, “ that a certain degree of cold will freeze
water,” consists in what is called an induction of parti¬
cularfacts of precisely the same nature. Having found,
by much and various experience, that the same events
never fail to take place in the same circumstances, the
expectation of the same consequences from the same pre¬
vious circumstances is necessarily generated incur minds j
and we can have no more suspicion of a different event
than we can separate the idea of whiteness from that of
the other properties of milk. When the previous cir¬
cumstances are precisely the same, we call the pro¬
cess of proof by the name of induction, and expect the
event fiom experience: but if they be not precisely the
132
^Difference
between
experience
and analo¬
gy.
H Y S I C S. Partl
same, but only bear a considerable resemblance to the Of Expert
circumstances from which any particular appearance ence arid
has been found to result, we call the argument ana- Analogy.
logy ; and it is stronger in proportion to the degree of'""”*''^
resemblance in the previous circumstances. Thus the
milk of all the cows that we have seen, or upon which
we have made the experiment, having been found
nourishing, we confidently expect that the milk of
all other cows will prove nourishing likewise j and this
confidence of expectation is the result of uniform ex¬
perience. But if, from having found the milk of all
the animals with which we are acquainted to be nou¬
rishing, however different the nature of these animals ;
we infer that the milk of any strange animal will like¬
wise be nourishing ; the inference is drawn by analogy,
and by no means carries with it the conviction of expe¬
rience. A proof from r-eal experience, can leave no
doubt in the mind (z) } an argument from analogy al¬
ways must. In the one case, we only infer that two
events of precisely the same nature, and in precisely the
same circumstances, have been produced by the same kind
of cause j in the other, we infer that two events similar
in most respects, though for any thing that we know
dissimilar in others, have been produced by the same
kind of cause } and it is obvious that between these
cases the difference is great, j-.
Thus, after having observed that all the projectiles The evi-
to which we have paid any attention—a stone thrown ^enfe 0^.
from the hand, a ball from a gun, and an arrow fromf^or^to^
a bow—describe a certain curve, and are impelled in that of ex.
that curve by two powers acting in different lines ofperitnee.
direction which form with each other a certain angle,
we infer that all projectiles which on the surface of
the earth describe the same curve are impelled by the
same or similar powers acting in the same or similar
lines of direction. Uiis inference is the result of ex¬
perience, and carries with it the fullest conviction to
the mind. But when, from having observed that the
curves described by the planets are of the same kind
with those described by projectiles on the earth, Sir
Isaac Newton inferred that these vast bodies are im¬
pelled in their orbits by forces of the very same kind,
and acting in the same manner with the forces which
impel a ball from a cannon or an arrow from a bow,
his argument was founded only on analogy j and even
that
pearance, is in fact nothing morTthan Wooy.'^hura0^^'?611 ^ and to hu.man eyes !ias .that aP~
bouring under the same disease the same remedv and nl * ^ iaV6 Prcscri^ed to ninety-nine patients la-
has experience of its utility, and wiU pres ” be k " , * Tu f ^ eSUCCeSS* lf S0’ he 'viil think that he
disappointed ; for though tt medfc^ ^ COnfidfce. Yet in this case he may be
stitution of the hundredth patient so different from that of tht18^ ^ ^i’ be 1Sometlung 111 the con-
pernicious to him. This does not detract from the ev’ 1 r t !at wkat was salutary to them may be
of the case in which the medicine failed were different W thL^rT V "‘iT’ clrc"msitances
are founded on a complete induction and uniform ev, e • th nch succeeded. In such conclusions as
assurance, and regards his past experience as a fullmW^f^6? ex.Pects tbe event 'vith the ]ast degree of
where experience has beenLriabl-or aXenllv v^El l? existe"ce .of that event: In other cases,
and therefore proceeds with caution. He Weighs tbe opposite e ^ k"°WS.tIiat induct]o» has been incomplete,
the circumstances in which they were made • consid pp lte eM)e^iments ? takes as complete a view as he can of
nients, and inclines to that side with doubt and hesitation^ hJ tbe greater number of exPerl-
denee exceeds not what is called probability. All probability "then T ^ aSt ^ •llhS jadgmen.t’ the evi:
observations, where the one side is found to overbafance tbo l ’ S,UPPoses an opposition of experiments and
bioned to the superiority. ' ’ c 0lhcr> and to produce a degree of evidence propor-
»
( ap. VII. M E T A P
Testi- that analogy is very rerncte. We know by experience
ony- , that all projectiles which fall mider our immediate cog-
u ^ nizance are of the very same kind and in the very same
circumstances; that every one of them has a tendency,
from whatever cause, to the centre of the earth, and is
preserved from falling by the force of projection 5 we
know likewise that they are all moved through the me¬
dium of the atmosphere, which at the surface of the
earth is considerably dense, and that a dense medium
must occasion much resistance : But we do not know
that the planets have a tendency to the centre of the
sun, that they are preserved from falling into that lumi¬
nary by a projectile force, or whether they move
through a medium or in vacuo ; so that we are not cer¬
tain that the motion of the planets is perfectly similar
to that of terrestrial projectiles in any other circum¬
stance than the form of the curve which they all de¬
scribe } and from this single case of coincidence no in¬
ference can be drawn which carries to the mind abso¬
lute conviction.
When a man reasons from experience, he infers, that
what has uniformly happened hitherto, will happen al¬
ways in the very same circumstances j or that what is
knowm to be the cause of various phenomena of the same
kind is the cause of every other phenomenon in all re¬
spects similar to these. Such an inference is founded on
the united and complete evidence of sense, memory, and
reason. When a man reasons from analogy he infers,
that what has generally happened hitherto, will happen
again in circumstances nearly similar ; or that what is
known to be the cause of various phenomena of the
same kind, is the cause of other phenomena in some re¬
spects similar to these. This inference is likewise found¬
ed on the united evidence of sense, memory, and rea¬
son : but here the evidence of sense is not complete, and
it can be strengthened only by finding more facts of the
same or of a similar nature.
34 Sect. IV. Of Testimony.
M Lind J J
re to The last source of evidence which we proposed to
be re the consider is testimony, or the report of men concerning
«f events wl“ch have fallen under the observation of their
ot senses. That we are all ready to believe the informa¬
tion which we receive from the testimony of our fellow
creatures is undeniable 3 and indeed without such belief
every man’s knowledge of facts and events would be
confined to those only of which he himself had been a
personal witness. In that case, no man who had not
travelled would believe that there are such cities as
Koine and Constantinople 3 and no man whatever could
now believe that such heroes as Hannibal and Caisar
had ever existed.
Between words and things there is no natural con¬
nexion 3 and though wre are all accustomed to give to
things the names by which they are known in the lan¬
guage that we speak, and to express their mutual x-ela-
tions by the words appropriated for that purpose 3 yet it
is obviously impossible to denote one thing by the name
H Y S I C S. <507
of another, and to express by words relations that have ofTesti-
110 existence. This being the case, it may be asked up- »iony.
on what principle we give credit to human testimony?1 v-_l ■f
'io this question various answers have been given,
which have produced much controversy on one of the
most important subjects which can employ the mind of
man.
“ V e may observe (says Mr Hume *), that there is The reason
no species of reasoning more common, more useful, and assigned by
even necessary to human life, than that which is deri- H“me f°r
ved from the testimony of men and the reports of eye-t*“s J!10'
witnesses and spectators. This species of reasoning per-orl
haps one may deny to be founded on the relation of Miracles.
cause and effect. I shall not dispute about a word. It
will be sufficient to observe, that our assurance in any
argument of this kind is derived from no other princi¬
ple than our observation of the veracity of human testi¬
mony, and of the usual conformity of facts to the re¬
ports of witnesses. It being a general maxim that
no (a) objects have any discoverable connexion toge¬
ther, and that all the inferences which xve can draw
from one to another are founded merely on our experi¬
ence of their constant and regular conjunction 3 it is
evident that we ought not to make an exception to this
maxim in favour of human testimony, whose connexion
with any event seems in itself as little necessary as any
other. Were not the memory tenacious to a certain
degree 3 had not men commonly an inclination to truth,
and a principle of probity; were they not sensible to
shame when detected in falsehood: Were not these, I
say, discovered by experience to be qualities inherent in
human nature, wre should never repose the least confi¬
dence in human testimony. And as the evidence de¬
rived from witnesses and human testimony is founded on
past experience, so it varies with the experience, and is
regarded either as a proof or probability, according as the
conjunction betv'een any particular kind of report and
any kind of object has been found to be constant or va¬
riable. There are a number of circumstances to be ta¬
ken into consideration in all judgments of this kind 3
and the ultimate standard by which we determine all
disputes that may arise concerning them, is always de¬
rived from experience and observation. The reason
why wre place any credit in witnesses and historians, is
not derived from any connexion which we perceive d
priori between testimony and reality, but because we are
accustomed to find a conformity between them. But
when the fact attested is such a one as has seldom fallen
under our observation, here is a contest of two opposite
experiences 3 of which the one destroys the other as far
as it goes, and the superior can only operate on the
mind by the force which remains. The very same
principle of experience which gives us a certain degree
of assurance in the testimony of witnesses, gives us also,
in this case, another degree of assurance against the
fact which they endeavour to establish 3 from which
contradiction there necessarily arises a counterpoise,
and mutual destruction of belief and authority.”
This account of the origin of faith in testimony has confutetj
been and
(A) Is there then no discoverable connexion between a tree and the field in which it grows 3 between a man
and bis clothes 3 between an author and his work 3 between a sceptic and paradoxes ? Surely all these are corre¬
lates, and necessarily suggest the ideas of each other.
6o8
* Disserta¬
tion on Mi¬
racles, and
The Phi¬
losophy of
Rhetoric.
M E T A P
been controverted witli much success by the Doctors
Campbell and Reid. “ That the evidence of testimony
is derived solely from experience (says the former ot
these writers*), is at least not so incontestable a truth as
Mr Hume supposes it j that, on the contrary, testimo¬
ny hath a natural and original influence on belief ante¬
cedent to experience, will, I imagine, easily be con-
1'or this purpose, let it be remarked, that the
H Y S I C S. Part ]
and thereby the former become fit to be signs of the ofTesti
latter, which they could not otherwise be.” mony.
Such is the account which Dr Reid gives of the truth —
of human testimony : and he adds, that there is ano¬
ther original principle implanted in us by the Supreme
Being, to tally with it, viz. a disposition to confide
in the veracity of others, and to believe what they tell
us. “ This ("he says) is the counterpart to the former;
and as that may be called the principle of veracity, we
f Inquiry
into the
Human
Mind, &c
ceived.   * .
earliest assent which is given to testimony by children, - „ -
and which is previous to all experience, is, in fact, the shall, for the want of a more proper name, call this the
most unlimited ; that by a gradual experience of man- principle ofcreduUty. It .s unhmited m chtldren un-
kind it is gradually contracted, and reduced tonal- til they meet with instances of deceit and falsehood;
rower bounds. To say, therefore, that our diffidence
in testimony is the result of experience, is more philo¬
sophical, because more consonant to truth, than to say
that our faith in testimony has this foundation. Ac¬
cordingly, youth, which is unexperienced, is credulous*,
age, on the contrary, is distrustful. Lxactly the re¬
verse would be the case were this author’s doctrine just.”
This is a complete confutation of the reasoning of Mr
Hume : but in order to prevent all cavilling, it is to be
wished that the very acute author had explained more
fully what he means by saying, that testimony hath a
natural and original influence on belief*, for these words
may be taken in different senses, in one of which what
he affirms is true, and in another false.
Dr Campbell’s omission is amply supplied by Dr
Reid, who gives f the following, account of testimony,
and of the credit which it obtains. “ The wise and
beneficent Author of nature, who intended that we
should be social creatures, and that we should receive
the greatest and most important part of our knowledge
by the information of others, hath, for these purposes,
implanted in our nature two principles that tally with
each other. The first of these principles is a propensity
to speak truth, and to use the signs of language so as to
convey our real sentiments. This principle has a power¬
ful operation even in the greatest liars *, for where they
lie once, they speak truth a hundred times. Truth is
always uppermost, and is the natural issue of the mind.
It requires no art or training, no inducement or tempta¬
tion, but only that we yield to a natural impulse. Ly¬
ing, on the contrary, is doing violence to our nature,
and is never practised even by the worst men without
some temptation. Speaking truth is like using our na¬
tural food, which we would do from appetite, although
it answered no end 5 but lying is like taking physic,
which is nauseous to the taste, and which no man takes
but for some end which he cannot othenvise attain.—
When we are influenced by any motive, we must be
and retains a very considerable degree of strength
through life.”
It is ever with extreme reluctance that wre contro¬
vert the opinions of this able writer j and that reluc¬
tance cannot be lessened in the present instance, when
we are conscious that great part of what he says is un¬
answerable. That truth is always at the door of the
lips; that it requires no effort to bring it forth ; that
in ordinary cases men speak truth uninfluenced by any
motive moral or political } that the greatest liars speak
truth a hundred times where they lie once *, and that
lying is never practised by the worst men without some
temptation, are positions which daily experience ren¬
ders it impossible to question : But notwithstanding
this, we do not think that truth is spoken by an in¬
stinctive principle } because it is inconceivable that in¬
stinct should teach the use of arbitrary and artificial
signs, such as the words of every language undoubtedly
are ; or that between such signs and ideas any instinc¬
tive connexion should ever be formed. “ 1 ruth (as we
have defined it) is the conformity of those words or
signs by which things are expressed to the things them¬
selves *,” and things themselves are what they are, in¬
dependent of us, our instincts, and perceptions. W hen
we have precise and adequate ideas of objects, and
when those ideas are related to one another as the ob¬
jects themselves are related, we are in possession of men¬
tal truth } and in this case there is a real and natural
connexion between the signs and the things signified :
for we cannot frame original and simple ideas which
have no archetype in nature *, nor can one object, dis¬
tinctly perceived, generate in our minds the ideas that
are generated by other objects. Here external things
are the objects, and ideas are the signs, which, when
they are in conformity to the things signified by them,
constitute truth. 137
But in human testimony, the ideas in the mindofThetre
the speaker are the things signified, and the words ofrfas0’j1
conscious of that influence, and capable of perceiving language are signs by which they are expressed 5 andilg
it upon reflection. Now7, when I reflect upon my ac¬
tions most attentively, I am not conscious that in speak¬
ing truth I am influenced on ordinary occasions by any
motive moral or political. I find that truth is always
at the door of my lips, and goes forth spontaneously if
not held back. It requires neither good nor bad in¬
tention to bring it forth, but only that I be artless and
undesigning. There may indeed be temptations to
falsehood, wfiich would be too strong for the natural
principle of veracity, unaided by principles of honour
or virtue 3 but where there is no such temptation, we
speak truth by instinct. By this instinct, a real con¬
nexion is formed between our words and our thoughts ;
2
when these things and signs are in conformity to each
other, the words uttered express so much truth.—
Now, though in this case there is no natural connexion
between the sign and the thing signified, yet it is ob¬
vious, that without a violent effort of the speaker to the
contrary they must always be in conformity with each
other} because, in every language, there are words ap¬
propriated for the purpose of denoting every idea and
relation which can be expressed 5 and in the mind of
every man these ideas, relations, and words, have been
constantly associated from the time that he learned to
speak. So intimate is this association, and so impossible
to be broken, that whoever will pay sufficient attention
to
c ap. VII. M E T A P
( Testi- to tlie operations of his own mind, will find that he
my. thinks as well as speaks in some language ; and that in
u v—^ cogitation he supposes and runs over, silently and habi¬
tually, those sounds which in speaking he actually ut¬
ters (b). If this be so, it is impossible that a man with¬
out some eft'ort should ever speak any thing but truth:
for the ideas of what he has seen or heard, &c. are
not of his manufacture j they are generated by external
objects, and till they be effaced from the memory,
they must always, by the law of association, make their
appearance there with all their mutual relations, and in
their proper dress. In the very act of learning to
speak, we necessarily learn to speak the truth : for were
we not to employ words exactly as they are employed
by those with whom we converse, our language (if lan¬
guage it might be called) would be unintelligible : and
we could neither declare our wants nor ask relief with
any hopes of success. Children beginning to speak,
may indeed utter untruths without any motive, and
merely from mistake ; because the ideas and words of
children have neither been long nor closely associated :
but it is impossible that a many however wicked, should
habitually and without motives lie on ordinary occa¬
sions, unless the fundamental principles of his nature
have been totally altered j unless his brain has been dis¬
ordered by disease j unless his ideas have been disarran¬
ged, and all his original associations broken.
We know indeed by woful experience, that immo¬
ral men occasionally utter falsehoods with a view to
deceive. But on these occasions they are influenced by
some motive either of hope or terror: the falsehood
is always uttered with an effort: and so strong is the
H y s i c s. 609
association between ■words and ideas, that the truth Of Testi-
wili at times break out in spite of all their endeavours niony-
to suppress it; so that the end or middle of a false U v
narrative, if it be of any length, is commonly incon¬
sistent with the beginning. We entertain a suspicion
concerning any matter of fact, when those who relate
it contradict each other—when they are but few in
number, or of a doubtful character—when they have
an interest in what they affirm—when they deliver
their testimony with hesitation—or, on the contrary,
with too violent asseverations j because these are circum¬
stances which we have generally experienced to ac¬
company false witness. It is likewise with reluctance
that we admit a narrative of events entirely different
from every thing which hitherto we have seen or heard;
because we may not be certain that the narrator is not
under some influence to deceive us in matters concern¬
ing which we have nothing but his testimony on which
to ground our judgment. But in every case where the
fact recorded is in itself possible, and attributed to an
adequate cause j where a competent (c) number of wit¬
nesses had sufficient means of information, and are cer¬
tainly under no inducement to deceive 5 testimony is
complete evidence, however extraordinary the fact
may be j because no fact which is known to have an
adequate cause can be so incredible, as that a number of
men of sound understandings should act contrary to the
fundamental principles of human nature, or be able, if
so disposed, to dissolve associations which had been
formed in the mind of each from his infancy, and form
new ones, all agreeing exactly with one another, but
all contrary to truth.
PART II. OF BODY WITH ITS ADJUNCTS.
Chap. I. Of the Composition of Bodies ; or, of
Matter and Form.
HITHERTO wre have contemplated only the
powers of our minds by which we acquire a stock of
ideas, and the various operations of the intellect upon
those ideas, as treasured up in the memory or imagina¬
tion. In the course of the inquiry We have found, that
every idea and notion which we have was suggested by
something independent of us ; and in order to discover
what those things are, W'e have investigated the nature
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
of each sense, as it is by the senses only that we have
any communication with the external world. By touch
we perceive heat and cold, hardness and softness, fi*-
gure, solidity, motion, and extension j hy the organ of
smell, we perceive odours j by the tongue and palate,
tastes ‘y by the ear, sounds j and by the sight colours.
We have likewise seen, that heat and cold, odours,
tastes, sounds, and colours, are mere sensations which
have no existence but while they are perceived. On
the other hand, hardness and softness, figure and solidi¬
ty, motion and extension, are neither sensations, nor
like sensations j but are conceived to be something ex-
4 H ternal
(B) This seems to have been Plato's opinion ; for he calls thinking Xeyov tv av% Tr^s xrln* » ^ 4'gXiTXi
Ttigi m uv <rx.oTn, “ the language by which the soul explains itself to itself when it considers any thing. ^ And
Plotinus says, 'O fv (puvr; Aeyoj fufinftx tov tv (i the vocal 'words are an imitation ol those of the soul. lo
say that vocal words are an imitation of those of the soul, is to speak inaccurately, and to reveise the process
of association j but it affords sufficient evidence, that in the opinion of Plotinus men think as well as speak in
words. .
. (c) Should it be asked what number we call competent, we beg leave to say, that it will be greater or less
according to circumstances. In cases where they are not liable to the deceptions of sense, two men of integrity
and intelligence deserve equal credit with two thousand j but where there is particular occasion foi goo organs,
whether of sight, hearing, or touch, the greater the number the greater is our security. 1 0 this must be added,
that as one man is influenced by that which to another would be no motive, a great number of witnesses concur-
*ing in the same testimony is always an additional security that they are not under the influence of any laten
bias. ,
6io
M E T A P
Of the
Composi¬
tion of
Bodies.
ternal anti Independent of our faculties, which may ope¬
rate in a desert wilderness as well as in a populous city,
138
Of tilings
perceived
by the
senses the
greater
part always
united.
139
Some of
these things
termed ac¬
cidents, and
why.
140
Things per¬
ceived by
the senses,
qualities
which in¬
here in a
subject
called mat
ter.
though, for want of sentient beings to operate upon, it
cannot in the wilderness produce the same effects as in
the city.
Of things perceived by the senses we find the great¬
er part always united; for when a man perceives a
piece of sealing wax, if he makes use ot all his senses,
he perceives at once, cold, taste, colour, hardness,
roughness or smoothness, figure, solidity, motion or
rest, and extension. That the powers or qualities,
which in this instance produce the sensations of heat
or cold, taste, odour, and colour, are so united to the
hardness, figure, solidity, and extension of the wax,
as that they cannot exist alone, is evident *, because it
is impossible to remove any one of these things, or to
conceive it removed, without removing with it all the
uest. What then is the bond of this union ? Do these
things necessarily accompany one another, so as that
one of them cannot exist without bringing all the rest
along with it P No $ there is no necessary connexion
among them ; for by the operation of fire the wax may
be rendered liquid, when the hardness and cold are
gone, though every thing else remains the same, or
nearly the same, as it was before. By a still further
operation of fire the appearance may be entirely chan¬
ged 5 and that which was formerly a piece of hard red
wax, may be reduced to smoke and ashes, in which
there is neither hardness, colour, odour, nor figure \ at
least there is not in the smoke and ashes such hardness,
calour, odour, or figure, as was in the wax. The soli¬
dity and extension, however, remain 5 for we perceive
ashes and smoke to be extended and solid as much as
wax or an adamant; nor is it possible to do any thing
with the wax, or with any other sensible object, which
shall deprive it of extension or solidity.
Thus, then, extension and solidity may exist and
he perceived, when separated from hardness, colour,
and odour 5 but none of these can exist, or be con¬
ceived to exist, independent of extension and solidity.
Hardness, colour, odour, taste, and figure, or the
things which suggest these notions to us, have with
great propriety been termed accidents or qualities 5
because they cannot exist or be conceived to exist by
themselves, but require for their support one common
subject. Extension and solidity can exist independent
of them •, but they cannot exist independent of solidity
and extension.
Is then solidity the basis of these qualities, so that
they necessarily result from it ? No •, there are many
things solid and extended which are neither hard, nor
coloured, nor odorous, nor sapid; which could not be
if these qualities were the necessary effect of solidity.
Besides, all mankind conceive of solidity and exten¬
sion as qualities of something else $ for we never say
that solidity is extended or coloured, or hard or odo¬
rous, but that something solid has these qualities;
whence it is evident that we consider solidity as a
quality itself. In what then does solidity and all the
other sensible qualities inhere, since they cannot exist
H Y S I C S. Part II,
separately, and do not support each other? This is
a question which modern philosophers pretend not to Compos],
answer : but some of the ancients were not so modest, don of
Aristotle and bis followers resolved every bodily sub-, ^odits.
stance into matter and form, making matter the basis ’ J
or substratum, and under form comprehending all sensi¬
ble qualities.
As attempts have been lately made to revive this phi¬
losophy, it may not be improper to give a short view of
the doctrine of matter and form, if it were only to dis¬
cover whether the speculations of Aristotle and his ad¬
herents on this subject deserve to be preferred to those
of Newton and Locke. '
The most perspicuous, and by far the most elegant
writer among the moderns who has adopted the an¬
cient philosophy, is Mr Harris ; and lest we should be
accused by others of doing injustice to a subject above
the reach of ordinary comprehension, we shall tran¬
scribe so much of what he has said of matter and form
in his Philosophical Arrangements as seems necessary
to make our readers understand his meaning as far as it
is intelligible..
“ Matter (says this writer) is that elementary con-^Jp*^
stituent in composite substances which appertains in patetic doc-.
common to them all, without distinguishing them from trine coa-
one another. Every thing generated or made, whe-cei™ng
ther by nature or art, is generated or made out 0fmatter’
something else ; and this something else is called its
subject or matter. Such is iron to the saw ; such is
timber to the boat. Now this subject or matter of a
thing being necessarily previous to that thing’s existence,
is necessarily different from it, and not the same. Thus
iron, as iron, is not a saw} and timber, as timber, is
not a boat. Hence, then, one character of every sub¬
ject or matter, that is, the character or negation or pri¬
vation. [He means negation or privation of what is to
be made out of it]. 142
“ Again, Though the subject or matter of a thing be which is
not that thing, yet, were it incapable of becoming
so, it could not be called its subject or matter. Thus of every
iron is the subject or matter of a saw } because, though attribute or
not a saw, it may still become a saw. On the contrary, quality,
timber is not the subject or matter of a saw} because
it not only (as timber) is no saw, but can never be
made one from its very nature and properties. Hence,
then, besides privation, another character of every sub¬
ject or matter, and that is the character of aptitude or
capacity. [He means aptitude or capacity to be that
which is made out of it].
“ Again, When one thing is the subject or matter of
many things, it implies a privation of them all, and a
capacity to them all. Thus iron being the subject or
matter of the saw, the axe, and the chissel, implies
privation and capacity with respect to all three. A--
gain, We can change a saw into a chissel, but not
into a boat} w7e can change a boat into a box, but
not into a saw. The reason is, there can be no change
or mutation of one thing into another where the two
changing beings do not participate the same matter (d).
But even here, were the boat to moulder and turn to-
earth,.
(d) In a note he says This reasoning has reference to what the aucients called jrgmptpiJj the immediate,
matter, in opposition to v>ii, Trgdhi, the remote or primary matter*
4
5
( ap.
f the
I nposi-
)H of
idies.
I. M E T A P
earth, and that earth by natural process to metallize
and become iron ; through such progression as this we
might suppose even the boat to become a saw. Hence
therefore it is, that all change is by immediate or me¬
diate participation of the same matter. Having advan¬
ced thus far, we must be careful to remember, first,
that every subject or matter implies, as such, privation
and capacity ; and next, that all change or mutation of
beings into one another is by means of their participating
the same common matter. This we have chosen to illus¬
trate from works of art, as falling more easily under
human cognizance and observation. It is, however,
no less certain as to the productions of nature, though
the superior subtlety in these renders examples more
difficult. The question then is, whether in the world
which we inhabit, it be not admitted from experience,
as well as from the confession of all philosophers, that
substances of every kind (e), whether natural or arti¬
ficial, either immediately or mediately, pass into one
another: and whether, in that case, there must not be
some one primary matter common to all things. I say-
some one primary matter, and that common to all things,
since without some such matter, such mutation would be
wholly impossible. But if there be some one primary
matter, and that common to all things, this matter must
imply-, not (as particular and subordinate matters do)
a particular privation and a particular capacity, but, on
the contrary, universal privation and universal capa¬
city. If the notion of such a being appear strange
and incomprehensible, we may farther prove the ne¬
cessity of its existence from the following considerations :
Either there is no such general change as here spoken
of; which is contrary to fact, and w-ould destroy the
sympathy and congeniality of things: Or, if there
be, there must be a matter of the character here esta¬
blished j because without it (as we have said) such
change would be impossible. Add to this, however hard
universal privation may appear, yet had the primary
matter, in its proper nature, any one particular attri¬
bute, so as to prevent its privation from being unli¬
mited and universal, sucli attribute would run through
all things, and be conspicuous in all. If it were white,
all things would be white; if circular, they would be
circular; and so as to other attributes ; which is con¬
trary to fact. Add to this, that the opposite to such
attribute could never have existence, unless it were pos¬
sible for the same thing to be at once and in the same
instance both white and black, circular and rectilineal,
&c. since this inseparable attribute would necessarily
be every where ; because the matter, which implies it, is
itself every where, at least may be found in all things
that are generated and perishable.
“ Here then w-e have an idea (such as it is) of that
aP head- singular being vM 7r^u\n, the primary^ matter; a being
'k 'y by which those philosophers who are immerged in sen-
an nalo11 S^e Ejects know not well how to admit, though they
gy cannot well do without it j a being which flies the
H Y S I C S.
611
43
is o be
perception of every sense, and which is at best, even ofthe
to the intellect, but a negative object, no otherwise Composi-
comprehensible than either by analogy or abstraction. We ^on ot
gain a glimpse of it by abstraction, when we say that the , ^
first matter is not the lineaments and complexion which
make the beautiful face, nor yet the flesh and blood
which make those lineaments and that complexion j nor
yet the liquid and solid aliments which make that flesh
and blood ; nor yet the simple bodies of earth and wa¬
ter which make those various aliments j but something,
which being below all these, and supporting them all,
is yet different from them all, and essential to their ex¬
istence. We obtain a sight of it by analogy, when w-e
say, that as is the brass to the statue, the marble to
the pillar, the timber to the ship, or any one secondary
matter to any one peculiar form ; so is the first and ori¬
ginal matter to iiW forms in general^
Such is the doctrine of the Peripatetics concerning
the primary matter or the basis of bodily substances.
We forbear to make any remarks upon it till we have
seen what they say of form, the other essential part
of every body j for what is meant by matter and form
will be most completely seen when they are viewed to-
get,KT ' . 144
“ Form (says the same elegant writer) is that demen- The Peri-
tary constituent in every composite substance, by which patetic
it is distinguished, characterized, and known,
fi'om every other. But to be more explicit: The first
and most simple of all extensions is a line : this, when it
exists, united with a second extension, makes a super¬
ficies ; and these two existing together with a third,
make a solid. Now this last and complete extension
we call the first and simplest FORM; and when thhfirst
and simplest form accedes to the first and simplest matter,
the union of the two produces body ; which is for that
reason defined to be matter triply extended. And thus
we behold the rise of pure and original body (f). It
must be remembered, however, that body, under this
character, is something indefinite and vague, and scarce¬
ly to be made an object of scientific contemplation. It.
is necessary to this end that its extension should be
bounded; for as yet we have treated it without such re¬
gard. Now, the bound or limit of simple body is
figure ; and thus it is that figure, with regard to body,
becomes the next form after extension.
“ But though the boundary of body by figure is one T]ie
step towards rendering it definite and knowable, yet is original
not this sufficient for the purposes of nature. It is ne-forms
cessary here, that not only its external should be duly w^cb, add-
bounded, but that a suitable regard should likewise be^.1^™^-
had to its internal. This internal adjustment, disposition, tute body
or arrangement (denominate it as you please), is called physical.
organization, and may be considered as the third
form which appertains to body. By its accession we
behold the rise of body physical or natural 5 for
every such body is some way or other organized. And
thus may we affirm, that these three, that is to say,
4 II 2 extension,
(e) He must mean only bodily substances ; for it is not admitted by such philosophers as make a distinction
between mind and body, that the one ever passes into the other.
(f) “ Original body (he says), when we look downward, has reference to the primary matter, its substra¬
tum : when we look upwards, it becomes itself a matter to other things ; to tbe elements, as commonly called,
&ir, earth, water, &c. and in'consequence to all the variety of natural productions,'1''
Ol 2
M E T A P
Of the
Composi¬
tion of
Bodies.
extension, figure, and orgonvXMtion, are the thi ce o> igihctl
forms to body physical or natural; figure having respect
to its external, organisation to its internal, and extension
, beinf common both to one and to the other. It is
more than probable, that from the variation in these
universal and (as I may say) primary forms, arise most
of those secondary forms usually called quantities sensible,
because they are the proper objects oi our several sen¬
sations. Such are roughness and smoothness, hardness
and softness ; the tribes of colours, savours, odours ; not
to mention those powers of character more subtle, the
powers electric, magnetic (g), medicinal, &c..
“ Here therefore we may answer the question, how
natural bodies are distinguished. Not a single one
among them consists of materials in chaos, but of ma¬
terials wrought up after the most exquisite manner,
and that conspicuous in their organisation, or in their
figure, or in both.—As therefore every natural body is
distinguished by the differences just described, and as
these differences have nothing to do with the original
matter, which being everywhere similar can afford no
distinction at all;"may we not here infer the expe¬
diency of ESSENTIAL forms, that every natural sub¬
stance may be essentially characterised .9 These forms,
though they differ from matter, can yet never sub¬
sist without it; but united with it, they help to produce
every composite being, that is to say, in other words,
every natural substance, in the visible world. It must
be remembered, however, that it is the FORM in this
union which is the source of all distinction. It is by
this that the ox is distinguished from the horse, not
by that grass on which they subsist, the common mat¬
ter to both. To which also may be added, that
as figures and sensible qualities are the only objects of
our sensations, and these are all parts of natural form ;
so therefore (contrary to the sentiment of the vulgar,
who dream of nothing but of matter) it is form, which
is in truth the whole that we either hear, see, or feel;
nor is mere matter any thing better than an obscure im¬
perfect being, knowable only to the reasoning faculty
by the two methods already explained, I mean that of
analogy and that of abstraction. Here therefore we con¬
clude with respect to sensibleforms, that is to say, forms
immerged in matter and ever inseparable from it. In
these and matter we place the ELEMENTS OF NATURAL
SUBSTANCE.”
Bodies.
146
H Y S I C S. Part II.
If this extract appear long, let it be remembered 0ft]le
that it contains the fullest and most perspicuous detail Composi.
which is to be found in the English language, of a doc- Bon of
trine of which the author of Ancient Metaphysics sup¬
poses Locke to have been ignorant; and for which
ignorance he affects to treat the English philosopher
with supercilious contempt. Had Locke really been ig¬
norant of the ancient doctrine of matter axv&Jorm, it is
probable that most people will be of opinion, that the con¬
tempt expressed by his censurer might have been spared.;
but if it should appear, that, as far as this theory is intel¬
ligible, it differs not, except in words, from the doctrine
laid down in the Essay concerning Human Understand-
ing, what shall we think of that zeal for ancient phrases,
which had influence sufficient to make one respectable
philosopher pour contempt upon another who was an
ornament to his country ?
What Mr Harris has said of matter and form re- Matter
specting works of art, is sufficiently intelligible, and cannot be
extremely just. Nor should we object to the accountde^.t“t&0*
which he gives of the origin of natural body, if heS01 lty‘
had not divested his first matter of every power and
every quality, solidity and extension not excepted.
But though we can suppose body divested of any one
particular figure and of every sensible quality, such as
colour, odour, tastes,' &c. and the substratum or ba¬
sis or matter of it still to remain, yet it seems impos¬
sible to conceive it divested of solidity without suppo*
sing it totally annihilated. Nay, if we have any just
notion at all of solidity, it is evidently inseparable
from the substratum of body, whatever that substra¬
tum be ; and indeed though Mr Harris divests his first
matter of every attribute, the argument by which he
proves the necessary existence of such a being does
not require its privation .to be so universal. “ Had
the primary matter (says he), in its proper nature, any
one particular attribute, so as to prevent its privation
from being unlimited and universal, such attribute would
run through all things and be conspicuous in all.” This
indeed is obvious and undeniable : but solidity and ex¬
tension do in fact run through all things into which the
substratum or matter of body is ever formed or ever can
be conceived to be formed ; and therefore there is no
necessity for supposing the first matter divested of these
attributes (h).
Mr Harris says, that both Timoeus and Plato drop
expressions
(g) That it is from the extension, figure, and organi%ation of bodies, that their medicinal powers arise, seems
to be undeniable ; lor medicines operate by contact: but it is not so clear that the same forms, to use the au¬
thor’s language, are the source of magnetical powers. If the magnet be surrounded with an atmosphere ex¬
tending to a certain distance, such may be the case ; but if not, the author’s conjecture must be ill founded. See
Magnetism.
(h) Nor does it appear that it was divested of them by all the ancient philosophers. We learn from Cud-
worth, that “ the atomical physiology, the most ancient perhaps of any, teaches that body is nothing else but 5<«-
cevhloTra*, extended bulk ; and that nothing is to be attributed to it but what is included in the nature and
idea of it, viz. greater or less magnitude, Avith divisibility into parts, figure, and position, together with motion
or rest, but so as that no part of body can ever move itself. And consequently, this philosopher supposes,
that there is no need of anything else besides the simple elements of magnitude, figure, site, and motion,
(which are all clearly intelligible, or different modes of extended substance), to solve the corporeal phenomena
by ; and therefore not of any substantial f orms distinct from the matter ; nor of any other qualities really ex¬
isting in the bodies Avithout, besides the results or aggregates of those simple elements, and the disposition of
the insensible parts of bodies in respect of figure, site, and motion; nor of any intentional species or shows
propagated from the objects to our senses 1 no/, lastly, of any other kind of motion or action really distinct
from
c: p. I. M E T A P
tlie expressions as if they considered matter to be place ;
C, tosi- but place, as will be seen afterwards, can be the ba-
i of sis of nothing. He likewise quotes a passage from
I ies- , Ammonius on the predicaments, in which it is said
u‘ “ that there never Avas in actuality either matter with¬
out body, or body without quality j” and we appeal
to our readers if it be not absolutely impossible to
contemplate such a being even in idea. To the ques¬
tion, Whether the first matter has a separate existence
by itself, distinct from all the qualities of body, the
author of Ancient Metaphysics answers thus :—“ WTe
have no idea of it existing separately, because we find
no such a thing in nature, from which we draw all our
ideas 5 but whether there may not be such a thing
existing in the regions of infinite space, as matter with¬
out form and dimensions ; is what I think no man can
take upon him to decide.” But with all submission,
if a man cannot decide this question with the utmost
certainty, his three ponderous volumes are nothing bet¬
ter than useless paper : for the subject of them is things
existing; and concerning existence we know nothing
with greater certainty, than that a being of which no¬
thing positive can be affirmed, cannot possibly have any
existence.
jjfrst That, in the world which we inhabit, bodily sub-
m“ . stances of every kind, whether natural or artificial, ei-
COI onto ther immediately or mediately pass into one another, is
all ties; a truth which cannot be denied: and therefore it fol¬
lows, that there must be some one primary matter com¬
mon to all things. In modern philosophy this primary
matter is considered as solid, and as the substratum of
H Y S I C S. 613
ail bodies 5 and all those things which, in the language Of the
of Mr Harris, are comprehended under the appellation Composi-
oiform are called qualities : so that on this subject the
ancient and modern philosophy differ in nothing but in . ^ ' t
the latter using the word qualities instead of the word
form ; and defining the first matter to be, a solid sub¬
stance every where the same,” whilst the ancient philo¬
sophy considers it as void of solidity. 148
Of the nature of this first matter all philosophers are of the na-
equally ignorant: for, as Mr Harris says, it is in truth ^ ^
form; or, as modern philosophers would say, they areirien aj.^‘
in truth qualities, which are the whole that we eithereqUa]iy ig-_
hear, or see or feel, or of which we have either idea ornorant.
conception. Mr Locke says expressly, “ that if any
one will examine himself concerning his notion of pure
substance in general, he will find that he has no other
idea of it at all, but only a supposition of he knows not
what support of such qualities as are capable of produ¬
cing simple ideas in us.” r^;
But how, it has been asked, do we know that the How we
things which we perceive are qualities, and cannot exist know that
without a subject ? We answer, Because every one off^^^^
them, except solidity, may be changed or destroyed,lypercejve)j,
and the subject in which they inhere still remain. Thus,are quali-
though wax may be melted or burnt, and be no longerties.
a hard red substance of such a figure and such a smell,
the matter which supported the hardness, figure, colour,
and smell, still remains; for melted wax or ashes is as
much a solid substance as is that which may be used for
the sealing of letter's, &c.
It has been said that solidity (l) is the substratum of
body $
from local motion (such as generation and alteration), they being neither intelligible as modes of extended
substance, nor any way necessary : Forasmuch as the forms and qualities of bodies may well be conceived to
be nothing but the result of those simple elements of magnitude, figure, site, and motion, variously compound¬
ed together in the same manner as syllables and words in great variety result from the dift’ei'ent combinations
and conjunctions of a few letters, or the simple elements of speech $ and the corporeal parts of sensation, and
particularly that of vision, may be solved only by local motion of bodies, that is, either by corporeal effluvia
(called simulacra, membrance, and exuviae'), streaming continually from the surface of the objects, or rather, as the
later and more refined atomists conceived, by pressure made from the object to the eye, by means of light in the
medium. So that wj ’one rev rxffsiloi uigtz to /BAstto^cevov xyxfyi^Mrxt, the sense taking cognizance ot the
object by the subtle interposed medium, that is tense and stretched (thrusting every way from it upon the optic
nerves), doth by that, as it were by a staff, touch it. Again, Generation and corruption may be sufficiently ex’-
plained by concretion and secretion, or local motion, without substantial forms and qualities. And lastly, Those
sensible ideas of light and colours, heat and cold, sweet and bitter, as they are distinct things from the figure, site,
and motion of the insensible parts of bodies, seem plainly to be nothing else but our own fancies, passions, and
sensation, however they be vulgarly mistaken for qualities in the bodies without us. CudwortlCs Intellectual
System, Book i. chap. I. . , .
This, as will be seen by and by, is the philosophy of Newton, Locke, and all their followei'S : and that it is the
genuine philosophy of the ancient atomists, we may safely take the word ot the author whom we have quoted j
for no modern has been more conversant with their writings, more completely master of their language, or has
given their sense with greater accuracy. Those authors, therefore, who in their zeal for ancient metaphysics
would explode the physiology of Newton and Locke, and substitute in its place the Aristotelian doctrine of matter
form, belie their own pretences \ for the theory which they would banish is more ancient than that which
they introduce, and we appeal to our readers if it be not more intelligible.
(1) The philosophers of most eminence who have maintained this opinion are, Hr JF^atts, the author ot the
Procedure, Extent, and Limits, of the Human Understanding; and Dr Law, late bishop of Carlisle, who in a note
' upon King's Origin of Evil gives the opinion of the triumvirate in the following words “ We.find by experi¬
ence, that a thing will always exhibit the same appearances in some respects, though it admit of changes in others :
or, in Mr Locke’s language, that certain numbers of simple ideas go constantly together, whereas some others do
not. The former of these we call the substance, thing, or being, itself', the latter are termed its modes or
accidents. Thus the substance of body, as far as we know of it, consists in solidity and extension } which being
necessarily finite, it also becomes capable of division, figure, and motion. These are its original inseparable qua-
£i4
META P
Of the body; and men have been probably led into this no-
Composi- tion from a conviction that such substratum, whatever it
be, is and must be solid 5 but that solidity is only a
quality inseparable from the first matter, and not that
matter itself, must be evident from this consideration,
that solidity is the same in all bodies, and incapable of
producing by itself any other effect than that of exclud¬
ing from the place occupied by it every other solid
substance. It could not of itself be the substratum of
colour, taste, or smell, otherwise all bodies would be
coloured, sapid, and odorous j and as, according to
all our notions of it, it is incapable of any change, it
could not by itself be so modified as to excite in us these
sensations.
The things then immediately perceived by us, or of
which wre have any adequate idea or conception, are
only qualities which must belong to a subject j and all
that we know about this subject is, that it is that to
which such qualities belong. From this it is evident,
that our notion of matter, as distinguished from its
qualities, is a relative * and obscure notion, and must
remain obscure till men have other faculties. In this
the philosopher seems to have no advantage above the
Powers-of vulgar: for as they perceive colour, and figure, and
Man. motion, by their senses, as well as he does 5 and as both
are equally certain that there is a subject of those qua¬
lities ; so the notions which both have of this subject
are equally obscure : or, to speak more properly, they
have no positive notion of it at all. When a philosopher
calls it the first matter, a substratum, or a subject of in¬
hesion, those learned words convey no meaning but what
every man understands and expresses, by saying in com¬
mon language, that it is a thing extended, solid, and
moveable.
They are therefore qualities, or, in the language of
ancient philosophy, forms alone, about which, in cor¬
poreal substance, we can reason with precision and
certainty ; and it is sufficient tor all the purposes of
Part I
I5°-
T>ur notion
of matter
relative and
obscure.
* -Reid’s
Essays on
the Intel¬
lectual
H Y S 1 C S.
life that we have of them an adequate knowledge. For
as the first matter or original substratum of all bodies Compos
seems to be the same, though we know not what it is • bon oi
and as one body is distinguished from another only by
its qualities or powers; a knowledge of the nature of^ ^
these is all that can be necessary to dixect our conduct
with respect to the various objects with which we are
surrounded.
Qualities thus considered in bodies, are, first, such Quanti*
as are utterly inseparable from the body, in what state primary
soever it is; such as in all the changes and alterations antl
•which it suffers, and under all the force which can be
employed upon it, it constantly keeps. Thus, in the
instance already given, a stick of sealing wax may, by
the operations of fire, be rendered liquid or reduced to
smoke and ashes 5 and when it has undergone these
changes, it has lost many of the sensible qualities which
it had when a long round substance fit for the purpose
of sealing letters •, but other qualities which were then
perceivable in it still remain : for not only liquid wax,
but every particle of smoke and ashes, is solid and ex¬
tended, as well as the hardest or largest body j and
every such particle has likewise some figure, and is ca¬
pable of motion or rest. Again, If a grain of wheat
or any other corporeal substance, be divided into two
parts, and each part be again divided without end, still
the smallest particle of it will he solid, extended, of
some figure, and capable of further division. Solidity,
extension,, divisibility, and motion or rest, are therefore
qualities inseparable from body, and have on that ac¬
count been with great propriety called its original or
primai'y qualities.
There are other qualities, which in truth are nothing secondary
in the bodies themselves, but powers arising from the
magnitude, figure, texture, and motion, of their in¬
sensible parts to produce in us various sensations j such
are colours, sounds, tastes, and odours. These have been
denominated secondary qualities ; and to them may be
added
ixties, which constitute the thing, and seem not to depend on anything else as a subject. But a particular figure
motion, &c are only accidents or modes of its existence ; which do not necessarily attend it, though they them-
e ves cannot be supposed to exist without it. The substance of spirit consists in the powers of thinking a^d act-
“*! “'r !tUt ° • VarT mod.ificati°"84, l-e all that we can learn concerning the „t
tine of things from observation and experience. To inquire into the manner how these, which we call mcer-
tp exist together or to attempt to explain the canse, pound, or reason, of their Uion! is in vahi? To Sn
anvIdilrfMroTcasiot, ’S s,!>;ing,,,0thin!5: ;t is setting a mere word for what we have neither
J‘n for- , ,deed lf we consider these primary qualities as needing something to inhere in
S„g e se To suorrt ^foT * T™ ; ^tbe ^ ^ »f reasoning, we ma/seektr 1“-’
the causeTliichTsiducenrit. ^‘^iJr'watts fcontkues^ the'irV'Tother support for the whole hut
less scholastic notion into the real nature of things and tl ^ ’ft T™"’ that,\S ^troducinga need-
14.). The author of the Procedure, Extent &c affirms “ ThatTJf g t0 'iavef]a ,real ^tence f (Logic, p.
of any substance, so far we have a ^ knowfrdge of the s^ZTsef:
if t^^^^ an ack(luate knowledge of that substance ; for sufely
of it very substance.^ ’ VU,g ^thing °f the eSSential ProPe*^ of a thing is knowing much
any thing else as cannorle^f1 ^^^tension, and nothing more; and that these depend not upon
whoever uses the word imnpnptrnh'rt FUe ’ • ?r m our conception, is nothing but impenetrability; but
real thing or beimr different fr * ’y.vT* ^ 'Y me^ns tflat tIiere is something impenetrable. That there is some
extendedf iTseff-eviden^h^al^rn1 e^*:ens,on> which impresses us with the notion that it is solid and
the immediate agenev of the ^ 1 ' I, 1 6 n°i matter> ^ese conceptions must be communicated to us by
“CiS'.S'j:; at. ' ^
%
~T%.
Cl p. I. M E T A P
( he added a third sort, which are universally allowed to he
Co: >si- barely powers, though they are in fact as much real
111 qualities in the subject as those we have just mention-
ed. Thus the power in fire to produce by its primary
qualities a new colour or consistency in wax or clay,
is as much a quality in the fire as the power which it
has to produce in us a new sensation of warmth or
burning. That colours, tastes, sounds, and odours, as
they are perceived by us, are mere sensations, has been
already proved: and that the powers in the bodies
which produce these sensations are not, like solidity and
extension, inseparable from the body to which they may
belong, is evident} because a piece of red wax may be
reduced to dlaclc ashes ; and because by pounding an
almond we may change its clear white colour into a
dirty hue, and its pleasant taste into one that is oily
and rancid ; and a single rent through the body of a
bell destroys its sound.
The primary qualities of body have a real existence
independent of us and of every other creature. Thus
the particular 6ul/c, number, figure, and motion, of the
parts offire or snow are really in the fire or snow, whe¬
ther any man’s senses perceive them or not} and there¬
fore these may be called real qualities, because they
really exist in the bodies : But light, heat, whiteness, or
cold (as they are perceived by us), are no more really
in fire or snow, than sickness is in tartar or pain in a
sword. Take away the sensations of them : let not
the eyes see light or colours, nor the ears hear sounds j
let not the palate taste nor the nose smell} and all co¬
lours, tastes, odours, and sounds, as they are such par¬
ticular sensations, vanish and cease, and are reduced to
their causes, i. e. to the bulk, figure, and motion of
the parts of the body.
Bod qua- The qualities then that are in bodies, rightly con-
litie re ofsidered, are of three sorts. I. The hulk, figure, number,
tire jrts. situation, and motion or rest, of their solid parts. Of
these, as they are in themselves, we have clear and
distinct notions. We know that they are in the body
whether we perceive them or not, and we call them
primary or essential qualities. 2. The power that is
in any body, by reason of its internal texture and
insensible primary qualities, to operate upon our senses
in a peculiar manner, producing in us the different sen¬
sations of colours, sounds, tastes, or smells, &c. These
we have called secondary qualities, but they are often
termed sensible qualities. 3. power, that is in any
body, by reason of the particular constitution of its
H Y S I C S. 61 j
primary qualities, to make such a change in the bulk, Qf t]le
figure, texture, and motion of another body, as to make it Composi-
operate on our senses differently from what it did be- tion of
fore. Thus, the sun has a power to make wax white, , ljolllcs- ,
and fire to make lead fluid. These are universally'
called powers; but we have no such notions of them
as we have of the primary qualities oiho&ies. We know
that they exist, but we know not what they are. It
has indeed been discovered, that the sensation of smell
is occasioned by the effluvia of bodies * ; that of sound * _ ...
by their vibration. The disposition of bodies to re- jrSSayS lri
fleet a particular kind of light occasions the sensation the Intel-
ol colour 5 and the operation of the minute parts of lectual
bodies upon the nerves, of the tongue and palate is the Powers °f
cause of tastes. Very curious discoveries have been j^ockPsEs
made of the nature of heat and its manner of operat-sn^, Sec.
ing, and an ample field still remains. We are like¬
wise intuitively certain, that body can operate upon
body only by impulse ; but how certain impulses up^
on certain organs should produce sensations in us to
which there is nothing similar in the impelling body,
is equally unknown to the clown and the philoso¬
pher.
Such is the distinction which in modern philosophy The doc-
is made between primary and secondary qualities j but trine of the
it is a distinction which was likewise wrell known to ancie.nt
that sect of ancient philosophers who were denominated j*ton!!st(Sr re"
atomists. At the head of these were Thales and Py- qualities,
thagoras (k) ; and we may infer from Aristotle, that
the sect comprehended almost all the physiologists who
taught before himself and Plato : for he saysf, f. dc
x.xi ot ttMuttoi roiv (pvnoXoyuy citottjjtxtcv t< Trotovn, ttxvtx Semu el
yxi> rx xtc-$v)TX xtttx ttoiovo-i, kxi ug o-%*i/xxtx xvxyova-i tov$ ^ermbili,
jcvpovs : “ Democritus, and most of the physiologists, fall cap‘ 4'
into a great absurdity j for they make all sense to be touch,
and resolve sensible qualities into the figures of insen¬
sible atoms.” And he adds, that “ the former physio¬
logists (without exception) said not well, that there is
no black and white without the sight, nor bitter and
sweet without the taste.” He elsewhere J tells us, J Be Gene-
that those philosophers explained generation and alte- ratione et
ration without forms and qualities, by figures and local ■
motion.” x«* AfvxijvTre; Troiqtrxvris rx c^npxlx cgp
Tijv xXXoiMiriv xxt nil/ yiDVriv tx Tovlaw Tremrt ^/xk^hj-u p.11
ax/ G-vfyxf/Kru ywuru/ xxi <p6e(>xii Si xx/ .B-aru xXXotumi.
“ Democritus and Leucippus having made figures (or
variously figured atoms) the first principles, make ge¬
neration and alteration out of these j namely, genera¬
tion
(k) This is denied by Bishop Warburton, who thinks nothing better settled than that Democritus and Leu¬
cippus were the authors of the atomic physiology. We highly respect the learning and ingenuity displayed in the
Divine Legation of Moses j but on this point we are convinced that its author is mistaken. Strabo expressly
affirms, that Moschus the Phoenician was the author of the atomic physiology; and Cudworth has proved, by
arguments which to us are perfectly satisfactory, that Thales and Pythagoras were both atomists,* and that they
derived the doctrine from Phoenicia or Egypt. They did not, indeed, speculate in physics, but delivered their
doctrines as they had received them from tradition, and they referred all motion to mind as its cause. Leu¬
cippus and Democritus, we believe were the first speculative atomists: but though they refined upon, and
perhaps improved, the more mechanical part of the physiology of their masters, they unhappily dropt the better
part of it; and, banishing mind from their system of the universe, they became materialists and atheists.
With the sober and pious part of philosophers this brought the atomic theory into disrepute and Plato and
Aristotle, who were theists, when they opposed that theory, always pointed their arguments against Leucip¬
pus and Democritus, which is probably what led the learned Bishop to consider these atheists as the authors of
the atomic physiology.
6i6
Of the
Composi¬
tion of
Bodies.
M E T A P
tion together with corruption from the concretion and
secretion of them, but alteration from the change of
their order and position.” By the atomic physiolo-
j gists the name of quality was generally applied only to
those things which we have called secondary qualities.
'The primary considered as essential to matter, were
seldom, if evei", called qualities. I hat the atoms,
which they held to be the first principles of bodies,
were figured, solid, extended, and moveable, is appa¬
rent not only from the short view of their system which
we have given from Cudworth, but likewise from the
passages which we have just quoted from Aristotle :
but the question debated between them and their anta¬
gonists was, whether those atoms had smell, taste, and
colour ; or, as it was commonly expressed, whether they
had qualities V Democritus, ILeucippus, and the other
atomists, we see, maintained that they had not 5 and
the following account of the doctrine of Protagoras,
another philosopher of that school, shows, that on this
subject at least the ancient advocates for the atomic
system reasoned as justly as any of the moderns, and
much more justly than the Peripatetics and Platonists
by whom they were opposed. Plato having in his
Theoetetus first said in general that the philosophy of
Protagoras made all things to consist of a commixture
of atoms and local motion, represents his doctrine
concerning colours in particular, after this manner :
“ First, As to that which belongs to the sight, you
must conceive what is called a white or black colour,
not to be any thing absolutely existing either without
your eyes or within your eyes $ but black and white,
and every other colour, is caused by different motions
made upon the eye, from objects differently modified 5
so that it is nothing either in the agent or patient ab¬
solutely, but something which arises from between
them both (l).” From this passage it is plain, that
Protagoras thought of colours exactly as Mr Locke
thought, that they are not real qualities existing in bo¬
dies, but merely sensations excited in our minds 5 and
indeed he is presently after represented as having call¬
ed them tux ev npiv tpxcrpxlx, certain fancies or appear¬
ances in us. But there is in the Theoetetus another pas¬
sage, in which a fuller account is given of the atomic
philosophy, to this purpose : “ The principle upon which
all these things depend is this, That the whole uni¬
verse (m) is motion of atoms and nothing else : which
motion is considered two ways, and is accordingly call¬
ed by two names, action and passion. From the mu¬
tual congress, and, as it were, attrition of these to¬
gether, are begotten innumerable offsprings, which
though infinite in number, yet may be reduced to two
tion of
Bodies.
H Y S I C S. . Part 11
o-cneral heads, sensibles and sensations, which are both 0ftlie
generated at the same time. The sensations are seeing, Comp.
hearing, and the like; and the corresponding sensibles
are colours, sounds, &c. Wherefore, when the eye and
its proper object meet together, both the xur^lov and
the xitrSyin?, the sensible idea of white and black, and
the sensation of seeing, are generated together, neither
of which would have been produced if those two had
not met. The like is to be conceived of all other sen¬
sibles, as hot and cold, &c. None of these are abso¬
lute things in themselves, or real qualities in external
objects ; but they are begotten from the mutual con¬
gress of agent and patient, and that by motion. So
that neither the agent has any such thing in it before
its congress with the patient, nor the patient before
its congress with the agent. But the agent and pa¬
tient meeting together, and begetting sensation and
sensibles, both the object and the sentient are forthwith
made to be so and so qualified 5 as when honey is
tasted, the sensation of tasting, and the quality of
sweetness are begotten together, though the sensation
be vulgarly attributed to the taster, and the quality of
sweetness to the honey.” The conclusion of all which
is summed up thus, ov^ tv uvxi xvio xx^avjo, uXXxtm am
yiyvtrSxt : “ Not one of these sensible things is anything
absolutely in the object without, but they are all gene¬
rated or made relative to the sentient (n),”
The language of ancient philosophy was defective
in precision j terms were used vaguely and improperly,
so that the meaning of the author is often to be
collected only from the context. When Protagoras
is here made to say, that when the agent and patient
meet together, both the object and the sentient are
forthwith made to be so and so qualified; as when ho¬
ney is tasted, the sensation of tasting and the quality
of sweetness are begotten together j it could not be
his meaning, that any real change is made upon the
external object merely by our tasting it, but only
that the actual sensation and the sensible idea of sweet¬
ness are produced at once ; just as he had said before,
that the sensible idea of white or black, and the sen¬
sation of seeing, are generated together. If his words
be thus interpreted they express a noble truth; and
the whole passage shows, that the ancient atomic
theory differed not from the theory of Des Cartes,
Newton, and Locke, being the most rational, as well
as the earliest system of physics with which we have
any acquaintance. By divesting body of essentialforms
distinct from matter and motion, and by giving to the
first matter extension and solidity, it renders the cor-
poreal world intelligible 5 and accounts for those ap¬
pearances
v L) '{Trchxfii tDivvy ovlas-i xx\x ra cppcclx Ttgiflev, 0 KttXu; Xivkov fty uvxt xvio tltgov n ruv ruv oppalm,
T » ^A“v TS iriovv xXXo Xi^x tx m>s KeorpoMs rm ouxaluv vpoS rKv vpowcvrxv
<Po?xv tpxvtilxt ytympmv xxi 0 h ixacrlov uvxi <px(*tv X^x, cult to TT^xXXoy ovlt to KPorZaXXoutvcv xXXx ftf\x%v r;
ezxrja tdtov 'yeyoyof, b
, Protagoras was a follower of Leucippus and Democritus in every thing, and of course an atheist.—This,
’ n \°CS ,n°. \m er in? rom lav^nS been a correct physiologist with respect to the composition of body;
nhilosnnb C1 ^ ^ 1/ |C <?U°t< ^ US’ ^ IS’ in<^eeth melancholy to think, that there was hardly a sect of ancient
pnilosophers in which there were not many atheists.
xivnrelc * VWV ^ £Asyaft£v 7rx»ltlt MTVTXi J ih xtijun, ox; ro tray xivyn; w kxi ttxpx to vie ovhy, m; h
“bo iX”' " S' &c—’See the > see
3
Imp II. M E T A P
if the pearances ivliicli are called secondary qualities, in a
jjences of manner perfectly satisfactory'. Aristotle indeed op-
odies. pOSCd the atomic philosophy, and had influence e-
'nough to bring it into disrepute for many ages 5 but
Avhen he insisted that the two constituent principles of
body are matter and /orw, both independent of all sen¬
tient beings, and which may be conceived as existing
distinct from each other, lie substituted for a simple
and sublime theory an absurd and incomprehensible
fiction.
617
i55
Ch ap.IL O/’A&r Essences of Bodies.
r essen- Having treated of the substance, qualities, and
f 'fbodiespowers of body, we may seem to have exhausted this
: ’ part of our subject 5 but there is still more to be done.
Metaphysicians, ancient and modern, have introduced
another term into the science, to denote that which
distinguishes one species or sort of bodies from all
other species or sorts *, and this term we shall briefly
explain. Gold is apparently different from lead, and
from every other species of metal $ a horse is appa¬
rently different from an ox, and from every other
species of animals $ and all animals apparently dif¬
fer from all vegetables, as vegetables differ from
156 metals.
- irding It is only with the bodies, not the minds of animals,
’ that we are at present concerned: and we have seen
1 onists bodies are composed of the same matter.—
; essea- What then is it that makes different bodies exhibit
forms; to us such different appearances ; or, in other words,
how come they to be possessed of such different qua¬
lities and powers ? It is (say the followers of Plato
and Aristotle) from their having different essential
forms, by which every natural substance is essentially
characterized } for of every animal, vegetable, or me¬
tal, &c. there is a form conceived, as existing before
the individuals in which it is incorporated, from which
result all the properties of that animal, vegetable, or
metal, such as figure, sixe, colour, and the other quali¬
ties perceptible by our senses : but this internal and
essential form itself, from which all other forms result,
is not perceptible by our senses, nor even by our un¬
derstanding directly and immediately, nor otherwise
than by the analogy formerly mentioned. These es¬
sential forms, wc are told, mean something, which,
though different from matter, can yet never subsist
without it ; something which, united with it, helps
to produce, every composite being, that is to say, in
other wTords, every natural substance in the visible
world.
hese This assertion Mr Harris submits with deference to
s have his contemporaries j because (says he) “ I speak per-
’ Xlst" haps of spectres as shocking to some philosophers as
those were to ./Eneas which he met in his way to
hell—Terri biles visit form ce.” The elegant author’s un¬
willingness to frighten his contemporaries, was a proof
of his amiable and benevolent disposition; but he need-
• ed not to have suffered from any such apprehension.
Those spectres, apparently so dreadful, had long before
been laid to rest bv the incomparable Cudworth, who
has demonstrated, that essential forms different from mat¬
ter and motion, as they have no real existence, had no
place in the most ancient philosophy 5 and that the dif¬
ferent appearances or sensible qualities which different
Vol, XIII. Part II. f
H Y S I C S.
bodies exhibit, are the result of the different contex- Of the
ture of their insensible parts. Thus, gold and lead are Essences of
composed of the same primary matter, but the atoms , ^°^es-
or minute parts of that matter are in the one substance
differently combined from what they are in the other
and this different combination is the sole cause that
gold is specifically heavier than lead, more ductile,
and of a different colour, &c. For the very same
reason, iron is harder than either gold or lead, speci¬
fically lighter, and possessed of many other sensible
qualities which are not found in either of these sub¬
stances. One vegetable differs from another exter¬
nally in size, colour, taste, smell, rapidity of growth,
and proportion of parts, &c.: but all vegetables are
composed of the same matter ; and the external dif¬
ference which prevails among them is the result of a
different structure and motion of their insensible parts.
The same is to be said of the differences which pre¬
vail among the bodies of animals ; they all result from
internal organization and motion, and from nothing
else, whatever be the immediate cause of that motion.
This particular internal texture and motion of in-The real
sensible parts, is that which makes one sort of bodiesessences of
differ externally from every other sort of bodies ; an<^nown to"
it is by modern metaphysicians called the real essencem ' '
of bodies. Thus, that internal texture of minute parts,
which makes gold of a bright yellow, extremely duc¬
tile, specifically heavier than all other metals, and so¬
luble in aqua regia, is the real essence of gold 5 but
what that essence is in itself no man can tell, as we
perceive only the qualities which result from it. We
arc, however, certain, that it is different from the real
essences of lead and iron, because it produces different
effects from those which are produced by these essences;
and different effects are never produced in the same
circumstances by the same cause.
We have called the internal texture and motion of Nominal
the insensible parts of bodies, their real essences, to di-essences>
stinguish them from other essences which are only nomi- w*lrtt t!ir-v
nal, and with which we are perfectly acquainted, be-1 ’
cause they are the fabrication of our own minds.—
Thus, a beautiful bright yellow, a certain specific gra¬
vity, extreme ductility, and solubility in aqua regia,
are the qualities by which we distinguish gold from
all other metals. Of these qualities we frame a sort of
general conception, which we call the essence of gold ;
and every substance in which we find this essence, we
class under the specific name gold. For though it is
obvious that our conceptions cannot be the real essences
of things external, yet are they sufficient guides to
these essences, as we know that bodies which, being all
formed of the same mattef, have the very same sensible
qualities, must likewise have the same internal organiza¬
tion or texture of parts, because it is only in that orga¬
nization or texture that one body can differ from another.
—And so much for bodily substance, qualities, and es¬
sences.
Chap. III. Of the Existence o/Matter.
160
We have endeavoured to prove, that all corporeal Berkeley
substances consist of minute atoms, solid and extended; att^™j)ts t0
and that the sensible qualities of every body result fromslrate ^Iat
the combination and motion of the atoms of which that matter has
body is composed. The celebrated Berkeley, bishop of no exists
4 I Cloyne,ence“
6i 8
Of the Cloyne, however, attempted to demonstrate that these
Existence atoms have no real existence j and that the very suppo-
of Mattesjt;on 0f a solid, extended, and inert substance, being
the archetype of our ideas, involves in it an absurdity
and contradiction.
It is universally allowed, that all our knowledge of
matter is derived through the senses, either immedi¬
ately in the very act of sensation, or mediately by an
association which is resolvable into a process of rea¬
soning. According to the principles which we have
stated and laboured to establish, matter itself is no
immediate object of the senses j and as these are the
principles upon which the bishop erected his demon¬
stration, it will be incumbent upon us to consider his
theory, because it has been represented as in the
highest degree pernicious, and as leading to universal
i<ri scepticism.
The view The author of the Essay on the Natui'e and Immu-
of histheo- tability of Truth, represents Berkeley as teaching us,
ry given by « that external objects (that is, the things which we
nists*14^0" ta^e ^Hr exteina^ objects) are nothing but ideas in
our minds 5 in other words, that they are in every re¬
spect different from what they appear to be $ that mat¬
ter exists not but in our minds ; and that independent
on us and our faculties, the earth, the sun, and the
starry heavens, have no existence at all 5 that a lighted
candle hath not one of those qualities which it appears
to have; that it is not white nor luminous, nor round,
nor divisible, nor extended j but that, for any thing
we know, or can ever know to the contrary, it may
be an Egyptian pyramid, the king of Prussia, a mad
dog, the island of Madagascar, Saturn’s ring, one of
the Pleiades, or nothing at all.” With respect to the
consequences of this theory, he affirms, that “ it is
subversive of man’s most important interests, as a moral,
intelligent and percipient being; and not only so, but
also, that if it were universally and seriously adopted,
the dissolution of society, and the destruction of man¬
kind, would necessarily ensue within the compass of a
month.”
The dissolution of society and the destruction of
mankind are indeed dismal consequences—enough to
make a man shudder in his closet. But do they really
flow from Berkeley’s system ? They certainly do, if it
be the aim of that system to prove that a candle has
not any one quality which it appears to have, and that
it may be a mad dog; for should all philosophers, by
some means or other, become converts to the theory
of Berkeley, as we know that the bishops Sherlock,
Smalridge, and others, actually did, the dissolution of
society and the destruction of mankind would indeed
be inevitable. The scribbling race, by using mad dogs
for candles, would all become infected with the hydro¬
phobia ; and having their natural irritability augmented
by the canine rabies, they would bite and tear till not a
j52 human being were left alive.
A view of But to drop this ludicrous style, so unsuitable to
his theory philosophical investigation and calm inquiry, we beo-
himself7 eave to a^'irn1’ t*iat t^ie theory of Berkeley is here
totally and grossly misrepresented, and that not one
of those dangerous consequences which flow from that
misrepresentation can be fairly deduced from any thing
taught in The Principles of Human Knowledge and the
Dialogues on the Existence of Matter. So far is Berke¬
ley from teaching that external things are nothing but
Part I]
ideas in our minds, and that they are in every respect ofthe
diflerent from what they appear to be, that he teaches Existcm
the very reverse of this in the plainest language pos-ofMattt
sible. “ I am of a vulgar cast (says he), simple enough
to believe my senses, and leave things as I find them.
It is my opinion, that the real things are those very
things I see and feel and perceive by my senses. That
a thing should really be perceived by my senses, and
at the same time not really exist, is to me a plain con¬
tradiction. When I deny sensible things an existence
out of the mind, I do not mean my mind in particu-
lar, but all minds. Now it is plain they have an ex¬
istence exterior to my mind, since 1 find them by ex¬
perience to be independent of it. There is therefore
some other mind wherein they exist during the inter¬
vals between the times of my perceiving them; as
likewise they did before my birth, and would do after
my annihilation. And as the same is true with regard
to all other finite created spirits, it necessarily follows
there is an omnipotent eternal mind, which knows and
comprehends all things, and exhibits them to our view
in such a manner, and according to such rules, as he
himself hath ordained, and are by us termed the laws
of nature.”
So far is Berkeley from teaching that, independent
on us and our faculties, the earth, the sun, and the
starry heavens, have no existence at all, and that a
lighted candle has not one of those qualities which it
appears to have, that he over and over affirms the di¬
rect contrary 5 that the universe has a real existence
in the mind of that infinite God, in whom, according
to the scriptures, we all live, and move, and have our
being •, that a lighted candle has not only all those qua¬
lities which it appears to have, but that with respect
to us, it has nothing else ; that so far from being con¬
tinually deceived by our senses, wre are never deceived
by them ; and that all our mistakes concerning matter
are the result of false inferences from true sensations.
The bishop makes the same distinction that we have
made between ideas and notions ; restraining the use
of the former term to denote the relicks of sensation,
and employing the latter to denote our knowledge or
conception of spirits and all such objects as are not
perceived by sense. Ele likewise affirms, that we can
have no idea of an external inert substance } because
an idea can be like nothing but another idea, or the
sensation of which it is a relick : and as all mankind
admit that ideas and sensations can have no existence
but in the mind of a percipient being, he therefore
infers that we can have no idea of any thing existing
unperceived, and by consequence can have no idea of
matter in the philosophical sense of that word. So¬
lidity, extension, divisibility, motion, figure, colour,
taste, and all those things which are usually called
qualities primary and secondary, being according to
him mere ideas, can have no existence but in a mind
perceiving them j but so far is he from supposing their
existence to depend upon the perception of our minds,
that he says expressly, “ When in broad day-light I
open my eyes, it is not in my power to choose whe¬
ther I shall see or no, or to determine what particular
objects shall present themselves to my view ; and so
likewise as to the hearing and other senses, the ideas
imprinted on them are not creatures of my will. There
is therefore some other w7ill or spirit that produces
them.
METAPHYSICS.
(ap. m. M E T A P
■tiie them. The question between the materialists and me
1 ;tence is not, Whether things have a real existence out of
of latter, the mind of this or that person P but, Whether they
u    have an absolute existence, distinct from being perceiv¬
ed by God, and exterior to all minds ? I assert, as well
as they, that since we are affected from without, we
must allow powers to he without in a being distinct
from ourselves. So far we are agreed. But then we
differ as to the kind of this powerful being. I will
have it to be spirit j they matter, or I know not
what third nature. Thus I prove it to be spirit :
From the effects I see produced, I conclude there are
actions ; and because actions, volitions (for I have no
notion of any action distinct from volition) ; and be¬
cause there are volitions, there must he a will. Again,
The things I perceive must have an existence, they or
their archetypes, out of my mind : but being ideas,
neither they nor their archetypes can exist otherwise
than in an understanding : there is therefore an under¬
standing. But will and understanding constitute in
the strictest sense a mind or spirit. The powerful
cause, therefore, of my ideas is, in strict propriety of
speech, a spirit.”
T thee- This is a faithful abstract of Berkeley’s theory given
rvweverin his own words. Matter, according to him. Can-
m ^auie, noj. ]je j.]le pattern or archetype of ideas, because an
jg idea can resemble nothing hut another idea, or the
ai sensation of which it is a relick. Matter, he thinks*
cannot be the cause of ideas *, for every cause must be
active, and matter is defined to be inert and incapable
of action. He therefore infers, that all our sensations
of what we call the qualities of body are the effect of
the immediate agency of the Deity upon our minds ;
and that corporeal substance has no existence, or at
least that we have no evidence of its existence. That
such may possibly be the origin of our sensations, no
man will deny who reflects upon the infinite power and
wisdom of the Agent from whom they are said to pro¬
ceed. Dr Reid himself, the ablest of all Dr Berke¬
ley’s opponents, frankly acknowledges that no man
“ can show, by any good argument, that all our sen¬
sations might not have been as they are, though no
body or quality of body had ever existed.”
in eonse- In its consequences we do not pexxeive that this
es theory can be hurtful either to religion, to virtue,
or to the business of common life-, for it only ex¬
plodes the notion of a substratum, which, though it
may have a real existence, was never thought of by
the generality of mankind in any nation under hea¬
ven. Dr Beattie indeed affirms, that in “ less than a
month after the non-existence of matter should be uni¬
versally admitted, he is certain there could not, with¬
out a miracle, be one human creature alive on the
face of the earth.” But this assertion must be the
consequence of his mistaking Berkeley’s non-existence
of matter for the non-existence of sensible objects, the
reality and existence of which the bishop never denied.
On the contrary, he expressly says, “ We are sure
•that we really see, hear, feel} in a wrord, that we are
affected with sensible impressions ; and how are we
concerned any farther ? I see this cherry, \ fcel it, I
taste it; and I am sure nothing cannot be seen, or felt,
or tasted : it is therefore real. Take away the sensa¬
tions of softness, moisture, redness, tartness, and you
take away the cherry.” All this is equally true and
fc less.
H Y S I C S. 619
equally conceivable, whether the combined sensations or the
which indicate to us the existence of the cherry he Existeme
the effect of the immediate agency of God or of the ot~
impulse of matter upon our minds ; and to the lives J ~J
of men there is no greater danger in adopting the for¬
mer than the latter opinion.
But it has been said, that Berkeley’s doctrine neces- A eonse-
sarily leads to scepticism in religion, as the same kind of <iuenc(' °f
reasoning which he employs to prove the non-existence S
of matter, operates equally against the existence of mind, ’
and consequently against the possibility of afuture state
of rewards and punishments. “ The rational issue of
this system (We are told) is scepticism with regard to
every thing excepting the existence of our ideas and
their necessary relations. For ideas being the only-
objects of thought, and having no existence but when
we are conscious of them, it necessarily follows, that
there is no object of our thought which can have a
continued and permanent existence. Body and spi¬
rit, cause and effect, time and space, to which we were
Wont to ascribe an existence independent of our
thought, all are turned out of existence by this short
dilemma: Either those things are ideas of sensation
or reflection, or they are not: If they are ideas of
sensation or reflection, they can have no existence,
but when we are conscious of them : If they are not
ideas of sensation or reflection, they are words without
any meaning.”
This sophism was advanced as a Consequence from
Berkeley’s principles by Mr Hume; and upon these
principles it has been deemed unanswerable by subse¬
quent philosophers of great merit. But is it really
a part of Berkeley’s system, or can it be fairly infer¬
red from the principles on which that system is built ?
These questions it is fit that Berkeley should answer
for himself: and we shall venture to assert, that his
answer will be perfectly satisfactory to every reader who
attends to the distinction, which, after the bishop, we
have stated between ideas and notions.
Though we believe this dangerous inference, from that author
Berkeley’s principles is commonly attributed to Hume foresaw and
as its author, it did not escape the sagacity of the bishop
himself. In the third dialogue, Hylas, who pleads
for the existence of matter, thus objects to the reason¬
ing of his antagonist. “ Notwithstanding all you have
said, to me it seems, that according to your own way
of thinking, and in consequence of your own principles,
it should follow, that you are only a system of float¬
ing ideas, without any substance to support them.
Words are not to be used without a meaning. And as
there is no more meaning in spiritual substance than
in material substance, the one is to be exploded as Well
as the other.” 1sy
To this Philonus answers : “ How often must I re- obviated,
peat, that I know or am conscious of my own being ;1)Ut
and that I myself aril not my ideas, but somewhat
else ; a thinking active principle, that perceives, knows,
Wills, and operates about ideas : I know that I, one
and the same self, perceive both colours and sounds ;
that a colour cannot perceive a sound, nor a sound
a colour; that I am therefore one independent prin¬
ciple, distinct from colour and sound ; and, for the
same reason, from all other sensible things and inert
ideas. But I am not in like manner cojiscious either of
the existence or essence of matter. Farther, I know
4 I 2 what
620 M E T A P
Of tlie what I mean, when I affirm that there is a spiritual
Existence substance or support of ideas j i. e. that a spirit knows
oi Matter. .U1({ perceives ideas. But I do not knotv what is
meant^ wijen jt Sajfi that an unperceiving substance
hath inherent in it, and supports, either ideas or the
archetypes of ideas. In the very notion or definition
of material substance there is included a manifest re¬
pugnance and inconsistency. But this cannot be said
of the notion of spirit. That ideas should exist in
what doth not perceive, or he produced by what doth
not act, is repugnant. But it is no repugnancy to
say, that a perceiving thing should he the subject of
ideas, or an active being the cause of them. That
I, who am a spirit or thinking substance, exist, I
know as certainly as I know that my ideas exist. I
know likewise wdiat I mean by the terms I and
myself; and I know this immediately or intuitively;
though I do not perceive it as I perceive a triangle,
a colour, or a sound. Ideas are things inactive and
perceived; and spirits a sort of beings altogether dif¬
ferent from them, by which they are perceived. I do
not, therefore, say, that my soul is an idea, or like
an idea. However, taking the word idea in a large
sense, my soul may be said to furnish me with an idea,
that is, an image or likeness of God, though indeed
extremely inadequate. For all the notion I have of
God is obtained on refk?cting on my own soul,
heightening its powers, and removing its imperfec¬
tions. I have, therefore, though not an inactive idea,
yet in myself some sort of an active thinking image
ot the Deity. And though I perceive him not by
sense, yet I have a notion of him, or know him, by
reflection and reasoning. My own mind and my own
ideas I have an immediate knowledge of; and by the
help of these do immediately apprehend the possibility
of the existence of other spirits and ideas. Farther,
from my being, and from the dependency I find in
myself and my ideas, I do by an act of reason neces¬
sarily infer the existence of a God, and of all created
things in the mind of God. It is granted that we
nave neither an immediate evidence, nor a demonstra¬
tive knowledge, of the existence of other finite spirits ;
but it will not therefore follow, that such spirits are
on a footing with material substances : if, to suppose
the one he inconsistent, and if it be not inconsistent to
suppose the other; if the one can be inferred by no
argument, and there is a probability of the other; if
we see signs and effects indicating distinct finite a-
gents like ourselves, and see no sign nor symptom what¬
ever that leads to a rational belief of matter. I say,
lastly, that I have a notion of spirit, though I have
not, strictly speaking, an idea of it. I do not per¬
ceive it as an idea, or by means of an idea ; but know
it by reflection. Whereas, I neither perceive matter
objectively as I do an idea, nor know it as I do my¬
self by a reflex act; neither do I mediately apprehend
it by similitude of the one or the other, 'nor yet
collect it by reasoning from that which I know
immediately. All which makes the case of mat¬
ter widely different from that of the Deity and all
spirits.
i hus far we think Berkeley’s theory tenible, and
its consequences harmless. That by the immediate
agency of the Deity all our sensations ?night be what
tney aie, though matter had no existence, we think he
HYSICS. Part
has proved by arguments unanswerable", and we are or ih
likewise of opinion, that by admitting the evidence Existei
of sense, consciousness, and reason, in their fullest ex- ofMati
tent, and by distinguishing properly between those' ^'
things of which we have ideas and those of which we not
have notions, he has sufficiently secured the existence tied wit)
of spirits or percipient beings, and obviated the irre-^ he L
ligious sophistry of Hume before it was conceived bydeavour !J
that author. But the good bishop stops not here. t:
Not satisfied with proving that all our sensations lead matter' f
us immediately to the Deity, and that, for aught we possible
know, matter, as defined by philosophers, may have
no separate existence, he proceeds farther, and en¬
deavours to prove that matter cannot possibly exist.
This appears even in the extracts which we have quot¬
ed from his book, in which he talks of the repugnance
and inconsistency of the notion, tn this part of his
system, we think he errs greatly, and advances an
opinion altogether inconsistent with his own just princi-
ptes. _ _
The repugnance of which he speaks, arises solely His reai
from considering solidity and extension as relicks ofing
sensation, or ideas of the same kind with those of heat
and cold, tastes and sounds. “ Light and colours,
heat and cold, extension and figures; in a word, the
things we see and feel ; what are they (says his lord-
ship), hut so many sensations, notions, ideas, or im¬
pressions, on sense ? and is it possible to separate even
in thought any of these from perception ? Some there
are who make a distinction betwixt primary and se¬
condary qua!ities: by the former, they mean extension,
figure, motion, rest, solidity or impenetrability, and
number: by the latter, they denote all other sensible
qualities, as colours, sounds, tastes, and so forth.—
1 he ideas we have of these they acknowledge not to
be the resemblances of any thing existing without the
mind, or unperceived ; but they will have our ideas of
the primary qualities to be patterns or images of things
which exist without the mind, in an unthinking sub¬
stance which they call matter. But it is evident that
extension, figure, and motion, are only ideas existing
in the. mind ; that without extension solidity cannot be
conceived; that an idea can be like nothing but an¬
other idea; and that consequently neither they nor
their archetypes can exist in an unperceiving sub¬
stance. Hence it is plain, that the very notion of what
is called matter or corporeal substance, involves a con¬
tradiction in it.”
This account of extension and solidity affords afyiajou
striking instance how much the most vigorous and up-
I’ight mind is liable to he warped by prejudice in be¬
half of a darling theory, and how apt the cleai’est under¬
standing is to be blinded by the equivocal use of terms.
I hat Bishop Berkeley possessed a vigorous and perspi¬
cacious, mind, his most vehement antagonists are eager
to admit; and that his intentions were good, is known
to all Europe. Yet by the equivocal use of the word
idea, which the writings of Locke had then introdu¬
ced into tne language of philosophy, he has here suf¬
fered himself to lose sight of a very proper and accu¬
rate distinction, which, so far as we know, was among
the moderns first made by himself between ideas and
notions. According to the bishop, “ we have a notion
of power and a notion ot spirits, but we can have no
idea either ot the one or the other; for all ideas being
passive
hap. HI.
M E T A P H Y S 1 C S.
621
)f the passive and inert, they cannot represent unto us by way
iistence of image or likeness that which acts. Such is the na-
Miittex. ture 0f spirit or that which acts, that it cannot be of
"v * itself perceived, but only by the effects which it pro-
duceth. It must be owned, however, that we have
some notion of soul, spirit, and the operations of the
mind, such as willing, loving, hating, inasmuch as we
know or understand the meaning of these words.”
Now we beg leave to affirm, that what is here said
of spirits, and of which we readily admit the truth,
is equally true of material or solid substances. We
have no ideas of solidity and extension, because these
things are not originally impressed upon the senses j
but we have very distinct though relative notions of
them, for they are clearly perceived by the effects
which they produce. That this is at least possible, tve
have the acknowledgement of Bishop Berkeley him¬
self : for he “ freely owns, that from a cause, effect,
operation, sign, or other circumstance, there may rea¬
sonably be inferred the existence of a thing not imme¬
diately perceived 5 and that it were absurd for any man
to argue against the existence of that thing, from his
having no direct and positive notion of it.” This is
exactly the case with respect to solid substances. These
substances we do not immediately perceive ; but we in¬
fer their existence from effects, signs, and other circum¬
stances, and we have of them very clear though relative
notions. Thus a man can open and shut his empty
hand ; but when he grasps an ivory ball of three or
four inches diameter, he feels, that though the same
power be exerted, his hand cannot then be shut. He
is conscious that there is no change in himself; and
being intuitively certain that every effect must have a
cause, he infers with the utmost confidence, that the
cause which prevents his hand from shutting is in the
ball; or, in other words, that the thing which com¬
municates to his eye the sensation of colour, and im¬
presses upon his hand a sensation of touch, must be
solid or impenetrable. . Solidity, however, is not the
sensation itself; it is only the cause of the sensation ;
and therefore it is so far from being an idea in our
minds, that we are conscious our notion of it is of a thing
totally different from all our ideas, of a thing external,
at least to our minds. Indeed the notion itself is not
positive ; it is only relative, and inferred from the effects
which are produced on our senses. That it is the same
thing which communicates to the eye the sensation of
colour, and has the power of resisting the compression
of our hand, is evident : because, when the ball is
thrown away, the resistance as well as the actual sensa¬
tion vanish at once.
eulea of From this fact, which a less acute man would think
our and a proof that the resistance was not occasioned by the
: notion immediate agency of the Supreme Being, but by the
solidity impenetrability of a solid substance of small dimen-
insena^ s*ons, t‘ie hish°P argues thus against the possibility ot
de. such a substance : “ They who assert that figure, mo¬
tion, and the rest of the primary or original qualities,
do exist without the mind in unthinking substances,
do at the same time acknowledge, that colours, sounds,
heat, cold, and such like secondary qualities, do not ;
which they tell us are sensations existing in the mind
alone, that depend on and are occasioned by the dif¬
ferent size, texture, and motion, of the minute par¬
ticles of matter. This they take for an undoubted
truth, which they can demonstrate beyond all exception, of the
Now if it be certain, that those original qualities are Existence
inseparably united with the other sensible qualities, and ,ot Malter-<
not even in thought capable of being abstracted from
them, it plainly follows, that they exist only in the
mind. But I desire any one to reflect and try whe¬
ther he can by any abstraction of thought conceive the
extension and motion of a body, without all other sen¬
sible qualities. For my own part, I see evidently that
it is not in my power to frame an idea of a body ex¬
tended and moved, but I must withal give it some
colour or other sensiblb quality, which is acknowledged
to exist only in the mind. In short, extension, figure,
and motion, abstracted from all qualities, are incon¬
ceivable. Where, therefore, the other sensible qualities
are, there must be these also, to wit, in the mind, and
no where else.”
In this reasoning, though plausible, there is an un
intended fallacy. It is indeed true, that we cannot
contemplate in imagination a solid substance without
conceiving it to have some colour ; but there is suffi¬
cient reason to believe, that this union of colour and
solidity in our minds is not the effect of nature as it
operates at first upon our senses, but merely the con¬
sequence of early and deep-rooted association. Bi¬
shop Berkeley himself has taught us, that the objects
of sight are not at a distance ; and that if a man bora
blind wei'e suddenly made to see, he w'ould conceive
the objects of his sight as existing either in bis eye or
in his mind. This is a truth which no man will con¬
trovert who has dipt into the science of optics, or who
has even paid the slightest attention to the perceptions
of infants ; and if so, it follows, that to a man born blind
and suddenly made to see, colour and solidity would
not appear united. Were such a person to lay hold
of an ivory ball and raise it to the elevation of his eye,
he would perceive whiteness as a new sensation exist¬
ing in his eye or his mind, but he would feel resist¬
ance at the extremity of his arm. He would not have
the least reason to conclude, that this whiteness was
inseparably united to the cause of this resistance ; and
he would, in fact, draw no such conclusion, till ex¬
perience had taught him, that by removing the ball
or cause of resistance from his hand, he at the same
time removed the sensation from his eye. After re¬
peated experiments, he would indeed discover, that
the cause of colour to the eye, was likewise by some
means or other the cause of resistance to the hand ; and
he would so associate these in his mind, that the one
would never afterwards make its appearance as an
idea or a notion without bringing the other along with
it. The whole difficulty, therefore, in this case, is
to break an early and deep-rooted association ; for it
is plain that the associated ideas were not originally
united, and that solidity and colour were at first con¬
ceived as separate.
If the reader perceive not the force of this rea¬
soning, we beg leave to recommend to him the fol¬
lowing experiment, which, if we mistake not, will
carry conviction to his judgment, that in the last-
quoted passage Bishop Berkeley has argued fallacious¬
ly, and that extension and colour are not inseparably
united as ideas in the mind. Let him go into a dark
room, containing a number of spherical bodies of vari¬
ous colours ; let him take one of them into his band ;
and
622
M E T A P
172
Matter ex¬
ists, but
Of t-ie atui he will instantly /et’/ resistance, and have a ?iot?on
I’lxistenoe of extension and solidity ; but will he likewise have
df Matter. (-]ie ijea 0f colour inseparably united with this notion ?
The bishop says he will: and if so, it must be the idea
of some particular colour; for his lordship has taught
its, that the abstract and general idea of colour, which
is neither rrr/, nor green, nor blue, &c. cannot possibly
lie formed. The man, then, we shall suppose, whilst
he feels resistance, conceives the resisting body to be
green ; and holding it still in his hand, Walks into the
light of day. The resistance, and consequently the cause
of resistance, remains unchanged , but what becomes of
the inseparable union of those with colour, when the
body, upon being actually seen, proves to be black, i. e.
to have no colour at all r—It appears, therefore, un¬
deniable, that solidity and colour are not united in na¬
ture ; that the one is an essential quality of something
external to us, of which we have no idea, but a very
distinct though relative notion ; and that the other is
an actual sensation in our minds, caused by the im¬
pression of something external on the organ of sense,
which leaves behind it in the memory or imagination a
positive and direct idea that exists no where else.
Solid substance, therefore may exist; for though it
is not immediately perceived by the senses, and is a
thing of which we can have no idea, we acquire a clear
and distinct notion of it, by the very same means which
Bishop Berkeley thinks sufficient to give us distinct
notions oi power and of spirits *, and, therefore, that
notion can involve in it no contradiction. Still, how¬
ever, we would not say with Dr Beattie, “ that we
could as easily believe, that two and two are equal to
ten j or, that whatever is, is not; as that matter has
no separate existence for it is certainly possible, that
the Supreme Being, without the instrumentality of
matter, could communicate to our minds all the sen¬
sations and notions from which we infer the reality
of solid substance. All that we contend for, as having
the evidence of demonstration, is the possibility of solid
and extended substance ; and if the thing be possible, the
general voice of mankind proclaims its probability. 
We are conscious of our actual sensations, and we know
by experience that they are Caused by something di¬
stinct from ourselves. When a man grasps an ivory
ball, he feels that he cannot shut liis hand, and he
knows that the resistance which prevents him pro¬
ceeds not from himself Thus far all mankind are a-
greed. But Bishop Berkeley says, that the resistance
proceeds immediately from the Supreme Beiim or
some other spirit j whilst we, without pretending that
his scheme is‘impossible, think it more natural to sup¬
pose that the man’s hand is kept from shutting by
the resistance of a solid substance of four inches dia¬
meter j ^ of which substance, though we have no idea of
it, we have as distinct a notion as Berkeley had of
spirits. From one or other of these causes this effect
must proceed j and it is of little importance to life or
happiness which of them be the true cause, since it is
'\lt 1 effect only that we are immediately concern¬
ed. still, however, a philosopher would choose to adopt
the easiest and most natural side of every alternative :
which, if our notion of solidity be just, is certainly, in
he pi esent case, the existence of matter.
-< »tter treating so largely of the composition of bo-
H Y S I C S. part ]
dies, and showing the general agreement of mefaphy-
siciaus, ancient and modern, with respect to the notion Existei-,,
of their solidity, it will appear strange to the less phi- of Matt,
losophical part of our readers, that we should now ex- v~~~
press a doubt of that notion’s being well-founded, isby!so3'i
W e have ourselves no doubt, but on the contrary are pliiW *
fully convinced, that solidity is essential to matter. This, l,llers de¬
li 0 wove r, has of late been denied by philosophers ofmft5tobli
great merit. Dr Priestley, after Mr Mitchell and Fa-6,0 ^
ther Boscovich, affirms that matter is not solid or im¬
penetrable to other matter j and that it has, in fact, no
properties but those of attraction and repulsion*. The * Jdtqui,
proofs of this position, which appears so paradoxical, he<l'Ms 0n
draws from optical experiments, from electricity, and-
from the eflects of heat and cold upon substances usual- and Corn
ly conceived to be solid. spondencA
The appearances from which the solidity of matter is U 'uh Dr
inferred, are nothing more, he says, than superficial apAnce'
pearances, and therefore have led to superficial and false Thc^gu
judgments, which the real appearances will not aiitlio-ments use
rize. “ Resistance, on which alone our opinion concern- '*1 su_PPor
ing the solidity or impenetrability of matter is founded, 0
is never occasioned by solid matter, but by something of110 eah
a very different nature, viz. a power of repulsion, always
acting at a real, and in general an assignable distance,
from what we call the body itself. When I press my
hand against the table, I naturally imagine that the ob-
stacle to its going through the table, is the solid matter
of which it consists; hut a variety of philosophical con¬
siderations demonstrate that it generally requires a much
greater power of pressure than I can exert to bring my
fingers into actual contact with the table. Electrical
appearances "show that a considerable Weight is requisite
to bring into seeming contact even the links of a chain
hanging freely in the air, they being kept asunder by. a
repulsive power belonging to a very small surface, so
tnat they do not actually touch, though they are sup¬
ported by each other. It has been shown, from opti¬
cal considerations, that a drop of water rolls upon a
cabbage leaf without ever coming into actual contact
with it ; and indeed all the phenomena of light are most
remarkably unfavourable to the hypothesis of the solidi¬
ty or impenetrability of matter. When light is re¬
flected back from a body on which it seems to strike,
it was natural to suppose that this was occasioned by its
impinging against the solid parts of the body; but it
has been demonstrated by Sir Isaac Newton, that the
rays of light are always reflected by a power of repul¬
sion acting at sortie distance from the body. Again,
M hen part of a beam of light has overcome this
power of repulsion, and has entered any transparent
substance, it goes on in a right line, provided the me¬
dium be of a uniform density, without the least inter-
ruption, and ‘without a single particle being reflected,
till it comes to the opposite side, having met with no
solid particles in its way, not even in the densest trans¬
parent substances, as glass, crystal, or diamond \ and
when it is arrived at the opposite side, it is solely af¬
fected by the laws of attraction and repulsion.
“ Nay, that the component particles of the hardest
bodies themselves do not actually touch one another,
is demonstrable from their being brought nearer toge¬
ther by cold, and by their being removed farther from
each other by heat. The power sufficient to overcome
these
hap. III. M E T A P
Qftlie these internal Forces of repulsion, by which the ultimate
dstence particles of bodies are prevented From coming into ac-
Matter. tUal contact, is what no person can pretend to compute.
’"v The power requisite to break their cohesion, or to re¬
move them from the sphere of each other’s attraction,
may in some measure he estimated } but this affords no
{lata for ascertaining the force that would he necessary
to bring them into actual contact, which may exceed
the other almost infinitely.”
From these facts, Dr Priestley infers, that the mu¬
tual resistance of bodies proceeds in all cases from
powers of repulsion acting at a distance from each
body : that the supposition of the solidity or impenetra¬
bility of matter is destitute of all support whatever; and
that matter itself is nothing but powers of attraction
and repulsion, and several spheres of them, one within
another. As other philosophers have said, “ Take
away solidity, and matter vanishesso he says ex¬
pressly, “ Take away attraction and repulsion, and
matter vanishes.”
To illustrate this strange notion, “ Suppose (says
he) that the Divine Being, when he created matter,
only fixed certain centres of various attractions and re¬
pulsions, extending indefinitely in all directions, the
whole effect of them to be upon each other, these centres
approaching to, or receding from each other, and con¬
sequently carrying their peculiar spheres of attraction
and repulsion along w'ith them, according to certain
definite circumstances. It cannot he denied that these
spheres may he diversified infinitely, so as to corre¬
spond to all the kind of bodies that wfe are acquainted
with, or that are possible. For all effects in which
bodies are concerned, and of which we can be sensible
by our eyes, touch, &c. may he resolved into attraction
or repulsion. A compages of these centres, placed
within the spheres of each other’s attraction, will con¬
stitute a body that we term compact; and two ol these
bodies will, on their approach, meet with a repulsion or
resistance sufficient to prevent one of them from occu¬
pying the place of the other, without a much greater
force than we are capable of employing 5 so that to us
they will appear perfectly hard.
“ As in the constitution of all actual bodies that
we are acquainted with, these centres are placed so
near to each other, that in every division that we can
make we still leave parts which contain many of these
centres j we, reasoning by analogy, suppose that every
particle of matter is infinitely divisible } and the space
it occupies is certainly so. But, strictly speaking, as
those centres which constitute any body are not abso¬
lutely infinite, it must be naturally possible to come by
division to one single centre, which could not he said
to he divisible, or even to occupy any portion of
space, though its sphere of action should extend ever
so far ; and had only one such centre of attraction, &c.
existed, its existence could not have been known, be¬
cause there would have been nothing on which its ac¬
tion could have been exerted ; and there being no ef-
• feet, there could not have been any ground for suppos¬
ing a cause.
yeDis- jn answer to this reasoning against the solidity of
v! Dr m;ilFer? I^r Priestley was frequently asked by his can¬
't-and did and masterly antagonist *, “ \Y hat it is that at-
Vnat tracts and repels, and that is attracted and repelled ?”
But to the question he was never able to give a satis-
H Y S I C S. 62$
factory answer. Indeed, how could he have been able? Of the
for, as Dr Price argues, “ Exclusive of attraction and Existence
repulsion, he affirms matter to he absolutely nothing j otMaiter.
and therefore, though we were to allow it the power of y
attracting and repelling, yet as it is nothing but this
power, it must be the power of nothing, and the very
idea ol it be a contradiction.”
If there be any class of truths intuitively certain,
that class comprehends the two following propositions :
Power cannot be without a subject ; and No¬
thing can ACT WHERE it is not. If, therefore,
there be powers of attraction and repulsion, (which
shall be considered afterwards in the Chapter of Mo¬
tion), there must be a subject of those powers ; and
if matter, whether solid or unsolid, be the subject, it T75
cannot possibly attract or repel at a distance. Sir Isaac fallacious11
Newton, in his letters to Dr Bentley, calls the notion appear- "
that matter possesses an innate power of attraction, oranees and
that it can act upon matter at a distance, and attract con.triiry.to
and repel by its own agency, “ an absurdity into alld'llcelY
which, he thought, no one could possibly fall.” Hence Sary truth
it follows, that the appearances from which Dr Priest¬
ley infers the penetrability of matter must be fallaci¬
ous appearances, since they contradict an intuitive and
necessary truth. The facts which he instances are, in¬
deed, such as would make most other men suspicious
of fallacy, and in his reasonings from them he some¬
times takes for granted the truth to be proved. The
links of a chain used for electrical purposes, supposing
them to be in contact with each other, can touch only
with very small surfaces. The electrical fluid is of
considerable density, and incapable of being absorbed
within a very narrow compass. This is evident, be¬
cause it passes not through paper and other porous
bodies without making a passage for itself, and leaving
a visible aperture behind it ; and though it assimilates*
with metals, and passes through them more easily than
through other bodies, yet it is plain that it requires
a certain quantity of metal to conduct it ; for when
the conductor falls short of the necessary quantity, it
is melted or dissipated by the force of the fluid. This
being the case, it follows that the links of a chain 7nay
be in actual contact (wre do not positively affirm that
they are), and yet the fluid become visible in passing
from link to link; for if the point of contact be too
small to absorb the udiole fluid, part of it must pass
without any metallic conductor through the atmo¬
sphere, and thus become apparent to the eye of the-
spectator.
With respect to light, it is obvious that there can-4,
not possibly be any demonstration, in the logical sensea
of the word, that it is reflected by a power of repul--
sion acting at some distance from the body ; for, in
the opinion of all mankind, the primary and solid
atoms of matter are too minute to fall under the cog-'
nizance of our senses, however assisted by art; and
therefore, if light appears to be reflected at a distance
from the surface of the body, we must conclude, either
that between the point of reflection and the apparent-
surface of the body, there are solid atoms unperceived
by us, or that light is reflected by the agency of some
other substance than matter. One of these conclusions,
we say must be drawn, because they are both possible,
and there is no other alternative but to admit one of
them, or to suppose that a thing may act where it is-
notj
624
if6
Our most
adequate
notion of
matter.
Of the not; which is as clearly absurd and impossible as that
Existence whatever is, is not. Again, Vi lien part of a beam of
of Matter. l)as entered any transparent substance, how does
. - y-—-’ pr]estley know that it goes on in a right line, with¬
out the least interruption, till it comes to the opposite
side P This he can know only by his senses ; but the
beam may meet with ten thousand interruptions from
objects which the senses cannot perceive, and may de¬
scribe a zig-zag line, of which the deflections are so
small as to elude the keenest eye aided by the most
powerful glass.
That the component particles of the hardest bodies
do not all actually touch one another, is indeed evi¬
dent from the effects of cold and heat upon those bo¬
dies : but it does not therefore follow that those bo¬
dies have no component particles; but only that they
are fewer in number than we are apt to imagine 5 that
all the solid matter in the universe might possibly be
compressed within a very narrow sphere •, and that it
is held together in different bodies and different systems
by a power foreign from itself. These are truths which
all philosophers have admitted who have thought suffi¬
ciently on the subject; but who will admit Dr Priest¬
ley’s proposition, when it is translated into common
English : “ That the component nothings of the hardest
bodies do not actually touch one another, is demonstra¬
ble from their being brought nearer together by cold,
and by their being removed farther from each other by
heat ?”
Dr Priestley owns, that if matter be solid it could
act upon other matter by impulse. We are certain,
that, whatever it be, it can act upon nothing in the
manner which he describes $ and therefore, to use the
words of Dr Price, “ matter, if it be any thing at all,
must consist of solid particles or atoms occupying a
certain portion of space, and therefore extended, but at
the same time simple and uncompounded, and incapable
of being resolved into any other smaller particles. It
must likewise be the different form of these p?'imary
particles, and their different combinations and arrange¬
ment, that constitute the different bodies and kinds of
matter in the universe.” This is exactly agreeable to
the doctrines of Newton 5 who, after considering the
question in every point of view, concludes, that “ in
the beginning God formed matter in solid, massy, hard,
impenetrable, moveable particles, of such sizes and fi¬
gures, and with such other properties, as most condu¬
ced to the end for which he formed them *, and that
those primary particles being solid, are incomparably
harder than any porous bodies compounded of them ;
t v en so \ ery hard as never to wear or break in pieces ;
no ordinary power being able to divide what God
himself made one in the creation.” To talk, as Dr
Priestley does, of matter’s being certain centres of vari¬
ous attractions and repidsions extending indefinitely in
all directions, and to describe these centres as not being
physical points or solid atoms, is either to sav, that no-
thing attracts and repels 5 or it is to introduce the di¬
vine agency as the immediate cause of all our sensa-
ilons. Ihe former of these alternatives Dr Priestley
disclaims j the latter he seems willing to admit. Put
if it be his meaning that all our sensations are caused
by the immediate agency of God or created spirits
his scheme differs not from that of Berkeley, except
in being less elegantly expressed and less ingeniously
M E T A P H Y S 1 C S. part 1;
supported. Berkeley’s scheme is evidently The 0fs
commonly received scheme is likewise possible. It re- an/it?
mains therefore with the reader, whether lie will adopt Modes,
the system of the Bishop of Cloyne ; or admit, with all '—’“V--
other philosophers, that matter exists ; that it consists
of parts actually distinct and separable ; and that each
of these parts is a monad or solid atom, which requires
no foreign agency to keep it united.
Chap. IV. O/'Space atid its Modes.
178
Having considered bodies in their substance, es-Thenece;
sences and qualities, and proved that they have a?ary ad-
real existence independent of us and our conceptions,JActs of
we proceed now to inquire into the nature of spate,b° y’wlla
motion, number, and duration. These are commonly
called the adjuncts of body, and are supposed to be ab¬
solutely inseparable from its existence. It does not
indeed appear that actual motion is a necessary adjunct
of body, considered as a mere solid, extended, and
figured substance ; but it is certainly necessary to the
existence of organized and animated bodies, and the
capability of being moved enters into our conceptions
of all bodies whatever. Of these adjuncts, that which
first demands our attention is space: for without a
knowledge of its nature we could not have an adequate
idea of motion, and without motion we could have no
idea of time*
Every body is extended j and between two bodies Our notion
not in actual contact, we perceive that a third bodyof sPate#
may be easily introduced. That which admits of thehTj!c'
introduction of the third body is what tve call space '
and if it be totally void of matter, it is called jwrc
space. Whether there be any space absolutely pure,
has been disputed j but that such space is possible, ad¬
mits of no dispute. Were any one body (a cannon
ball for instance) to be annihilated, and the circumam¬
bient air, with every other material substance, kept
from rushing into the space which the ball had occu¬
pied, that portion of space, with respect to matter,
Avould be empty or pure space: whether it would ne¬
cessarily be filled with mind shall be considered after¬
wards. Pure space, therefore, is conceivable j and it
is conceived as having three dimensions, length, breadth,
and depth, which are generally called the three simple
modes ot space. In this respect it agrees with body:
but the agreement proceeds no farther j for space is
conceived as destitute of solidity, without which the
existence of body is inconceivable. It has been former¬
ly observed, that whatever may be distinctly conceived
may possibly exist; but with respect to the existence
ot pure space, whatever is possible is real : for it shall
be shown in the next section, that were there no space
absolutely pure or void of matter, there could be no
motion. Our business at present is to inquire what the
nature of space is, and what notion we ought to have of
its existence.
Many modern philosophers consider space as some-Space sup
thing entirely distinct both from body and mind : some posed to be
ot them ascribe to it no less than four of the attributes something
of the Deity—-eternity, immobility, infinity, and necessary ^^ody
existence ; and a few of them have gone so far as to .nK} ,njiid,
call infinite space the sensorium of the Deity. “ The and to be
supposal ot the existence of ami thing whatever fsavs Dreten,a*a"
Clarke)
( ap. IV. _
l' (Kpace Clarke *) necessarily mcludco & presupposition of the ex-
1 its istence space. Nothing can possibly be conceived to
xies. exist without thereby presupposing space ; which, tjiere-
^ fore, I apprehend to be a property or mode of the self-
* existent Substance j and that, by being evidently neces-
^ ]eins sary itself, it proves, that the substance of which it is a
ittri- property must be also necessary.” Elsewhere he says,
bi °f that “ space is a property or mode of the self-existent
^ aml , Substance, but not of any other substances. All other
w with substances are in space, and are penetrated by it •, but
d itk- the self-existent Substance is not in space, nor penetrated
Mi by it, but is itself (if I may so speak) the substratum
G :ester- Space? the ground of the existence of space itself.”
2 ^>aS He acknowledges, however, that such expressions as
“ the self-existent Substance is the substratum of space,
or space is a property of the self-existent Substance, are
not, perhaps, very proper: but what I mean (says he),
is this : The idea of space (as also of time or duration')
is an abstract or partial idea •, an idea of a certain ^wa-
lity or relation, which we evidently see to be necessarily
existing; and yet which (not being itself a substance)
at the same time necessarily presupposes a substance,
without which it could not exist.”
These opinions respecting space have been adopted
by succeeding philosophers of great merit, and particu¬
larly by Dr Price } who says, that “ it is a maxim which
cannot be disputed, that time and place are necessary to
the existence of ail things. Dr Clarke (continues he)
has made use of this maxim, to prove that infinite space
and duration are the essential properties of the Deity ;
and I think he was right.”
Had authority any weight in philosophy, we know
not what modern writers we could oppose to the cele¬
brated names of Clarke and Price, unless it were Bishop
Berkeley, Dr Law late bishop of Carlisle, and the author
|[So of Ancient Metaphysics. But the question is not to
T suppo-]^ decided by authority. Learned and acute as Dr
u rted Clarke was, his assertions respecting space are contra¬
dictory and inconsistent. If nothing can possibly be
conceived to exist without thereby presupposing the ex¬
istence of space, how can space be a property or mode
of the self-existent Substance ? Are properties prior
in the order of nature, or even in our conceptions, to
the substances in which they inhere ? Can we frame
an abstract idea of figure, or extension, or solidity, be¬
fore we conceive the existence of any one figured, ex¬
tended, or solid substance ? These are questions which
every man is as capable of answering as the Doctors
Clarke and Price, provided he can look attentively into
his own mind, and trace his ideas to their source in sen¬
sation : and if he be not biassed by the weight ol
great names, we are persuaded he will find, that if it be
indeed true, that the supposal of the existence of any
thing whatever necessarily includes a presupposition of
the existence of space, space cannot possibly be a pro¬
perty or mode of the self-existent Substance, but must of
,Sl necessity be a substance itself.
Sj e ne- It is, however, not true, that the supposal of the ex-
C( ry to istence of any thing whatever necessarily includes a pre*>
^ xist- supposition of the existence of space. The idea of space
01 is indeed so closely associated with every visible and
METAPHYSIC S,
62
A
Of Space
and its
Modes.
*' 'thiii'T
tangible object, that we cannot see the one nor feel
the other without conceiving them to occupy so much
of space. B ut had we never possessed the senses of sight
and touch, we could not have supposed the existence
Yol. XIII. Part II.
of space necessary to the existence of any thing what¬
ever. The senses of smelling, tasting, and hearing, to¬
gether with our internal powers of consciousness and
intellectj would certainly have compelled us to believe v *
in our own existence, and to suppose the existence of
other things j but no object either of consciousness,
smelling, tasting, or hearing, can be conceived as occu¬
pying space. Space and every thing which fills it are
conceived as of three dimensions 5 but who ever sup¬
posed or can suppose an odour, taste, or sound, to have
length, breadth, and depth ; or an object of conscious¬
ness to be an ell or an inch long P
Let us suppose that body and all the visible world
had a beginning, and that once nothing existed but
that Being which is alone of necessary as well as etei’-
nal existence 5 space, say the followers of Dr Clarke,
would then exist likewise without bounds or limits.
But we desire to know of these gentlemen what sort
of a being this space is. It Certainly is not substance;
neither is it a property; for we have seen that the very
notions of it, which lead men to suppose its existence
necessary, render it impossible to be a property of the
self-existent Being. Is it then nothing ? It “ is in one
sense * : it is nothing actually existing; but it is some- * Ancient
thing potentially i for it has the capacity of receiving Metaphy-
body whenever it shall exist. It is not, and cannotOTCf!'
become any thing itself, nor hath it any actual exist¬
ence *, but it is that without which nothing corporeal
could exist.” For this reason it was that Democritus
and Epicurus made space one of the principles of na¬
ture *, and for the same reason Aristotle has made/;rf-
vation one of his three principles of natural things,
matter and form being the other two. But though the
privation of one form be doubtless necessary before
matter can receive another (for a piece of wax or clay
cannot receive the form of a globe before it lose the
form of a square), yet Aristotle never dreamed that
the privation of the square was any property of the
globe, or that privation itself was to be reckoned a real
being. On the contrary, he expressly calls it r« pj tr,
or the no being. In this way, if we please, we may
consider space, and call it the privation of fulness or ol
body. M e have indeed a positive idea ot it, as well as
of silence, darkness, and other privations : but to argue
from such an idea of space, that space itself is some¬
thing real, seems altogether as good sense as to say,
that because we have a different idea of darkness from
that of light, of silence from that of sound, of the ab¬
sence of any thing from that of its presence; therefore
darkness, silence, absence, must be real things, and have
as positive an existence as light, sound, and body: and
to deny that we have any positive idea, or, which is the
very same thing, any idea at all, of the privations above
mentioned, will be to deny what is capable of the most
complete proof (see N° 19.), and to contradict com¬
mon sense and daily experience. There are therefore
ideas, and simple ones too, which have nothing ad ex¬
tra correspondent to them; no proper idictum, arche-^ See Notes
type, or objective reality : and we do not see why the on g{ng's
idea of space may not be reckoned of that number. Origin of
To say that space must have existence because it has kivil, and
•sonic properties (for instance, penetrability, or the eapa-^
city of receiving body), seems f to be the same thing as tlu, 'j(jals
to urge that darkness must he something because it has0/ Space,
the capacity of receiving tight; silence the property of etc.
f 4 K. admitting
626
Modes.
182
Space no
thing but
Of Space admitting sound; and absence the property of being sup-
and its plied by presence. To reason in this manner is to assign
absolute negations j and such as, in the same way, may
be applied to nothing, and then call them positive pro¬
perties; and so infer that the chimera, thus clothed
with them, must needs be something.
But it is said, that as we cannot conceive space to
be annihilated, it must be some real thing of eternal
the possible n(j necessary existence. If this argument had not
of body. been used by writers of great merit, and with the best
intention, we should not have scrupled to call it the
most contemptible sophism that ever disgraced the page
of philosophy. W hatever now has an actual existence,
must from eternity have had a possible existence in the
ideas of the Divine mind. Body, as an extended sub¬
stance, has now an actual existence ; and therefore it
must from eternity have had a possible existence in the
ideas of the Divine mind : but the possible existence
of body is all that we can conceive by space; and there¬
fore this argument, upon which so much stress has
been laid, amounts to nothing more, than that what
has from eternity been possible, can at no period have
been impossible. It is evident that the capacity or po¬
tentiality of every thing existing must have been from
eternity 5 but is capacity or potentiality a real being ?
All the men and women who shall succeed the present
generation to the end of time, have at this moment
a possibility of existence, nor can that possibility be
conceived as an impossibility } but is it therefore any
thing actually existing either as a substance or a qua¬
lity ?
It has been urged, that space must be something
more than the mere absence of matter ; because if no¬
thing be between bodies, such as the walls of a room,
they must necessarily touch. But surely it is not self-
evident that bodies must necessarily touch if nothing
be between them •, nor of the truth of this proposition
cun any thing like a proof be brought. It is indeed
intuitively certain, that “ things, when they are in
contact, have nothing between them and hence it
has rashly been inferred, that things, when they have
nothing between them, are in contact ; but this is an
illegitimate conversion of the proposition. Every lo¬
gician knows, that to convert a proposition, is to infer
from it another whose subject is the predicate, and whose
predicate is the subject, of the proposition to be convert¬
ed. but we are taught by Aristotle and by common
sense, that an universal affirmative can be converted
only into a particular affirmative. “ Things, when they
are in contact, have nothing between them,” is an uni¬
versal affirmative proposition 5 and therefore it can be
converted only into the following particular affirmative :
“ Some things, when they have nothing between them,
are in contact 5” a proposition which by no means in¬
cludes in it the contact of the walls of an empty room.
The reason why the walls of an empty room do not
touch, is that they are distant; but is distance, in the
abstract, any thing really existing ? Two individuals
difler, or there is a difference between them ; but is
difference itself any real external thing P Bodies are
long, broad, thick, heavy; but are length, breadth,
density, weight, properly any thing P Have they any
real separate archetypes or external idiata ? Or can
they exist but in some substance ?
METAPHYSICS. Part
The reason why so many philosophers have consi- ofSp;
and it
Mode
dered space as a real external thing, seems to be this :
Every bodily substance is extended ; but space is con¬
ceived to be that which contains body, and therefore
to space we likewise attribute extension. Extension The fall l
is a quality which can have no existence but as united which hi
with other qualities in some substance j and it is thattotJie«
of which, abstracted from all substances, we can, pro-j^10" I
perly speaking, form no idea. We understand the js a ^
meaning of the word, however, and can reason about thing,
that which it denotes, without regarding the particu¬
lar substance in which extension may inhere 5 just as
we can reason about whiteness without regarding any
one white object, though it is self-evident that white¬
ness, abstracted from all objects, cannot figure in the
mind as an idea. Qualities considered in this manner
are general and relative notions, the objects of pure in¬
tellect, which make no appearance in the imagination,
and are far less, if possible, to be perceived by sense :
but it is extremely painful to the mind to dwell upon
such notions ; and therefore the ever-active fancy is
always ready to furnish them with imaginary substrata,
and to make that which was a general and invisible no¬
tion be conceived as a particular ideal object. In the
case of extension this is the more easily done, that the
notion which we have of a real substratum or substance,
the support of real qualities, is obscure and relative,
being the notion of something we know not what.
Now, by leaving, if we can, solidity and figure out of
our conception, and joining the notion of something with
the notion of extension, we have at once the imaginary
substratum of an imaginary quality, or the general no¬
tion of extension particularized in an imaginary subject j
and this subject we call space, vainly fancying that it has
a real external and independent existence. Whether
this be not all that can be said of space, and whether it
be not absurd to talk of its having any real properties,
every man will judge for himself, by reflecting upon
his own ideas and the manner in which they are acqui¬
red. We ourselves have no doubt about the matter. We
consider pure space as a mere notion relative to the ex¬
istence ol corporeal substance, as nothing more than the
absence of body, where body is possible ; and we think
the usual distinction between absolute and re/oftt"? space,
il taken as real, the grossest absurdity. We do not,
however, pretend to dictate to others j hut recom¬
mend it to every man to throw away all respect for
great names, to look attentively into his own thoughts,
and on this as on all metaphysical subjects to judge for
himself. l8^
Having said so much of space in general, we need Place,
not waste much time upon its modes. Indeed the only it is.
mode of space, after considering it with respect to the
three dimensions of body, which now demands our at¬
tention, is that which we cal 1 place. As in the simplest
mode oi space we consider the relation of distance be¬
tween any two bodies or points $ so, in our idea of
place, we consider the relation of distance betwixt any
thing, and any two or more points, which, being con¬
sidered as at rest, keep the same distance one from
another. Thus, when we find any thing at the same
distance now at which it was yesterday from two or
more points with which it was then compared, and
which have not since the comparison was made changed
their
hap. IV. M E T A P
f Space their distance or position with respect to each other,
ml its we say that the thing hath kept its place, or is in the
[oiieg. Same place ; but if it hath sensibly altered its distance
^ from either of these points, we then say that it hath
changed its place.
From this view of the nature of place, we need not
observe that it is a mere relation ; but it may be worth
while to advert to this circumstance, that a thing may
without falsehood be said to have continued in the
same place, and at the same time to have changed its
place according to the different objects with which it
is compared. Thus, if two persons find a company of
chess-men standing each upon the same square of the
chess-board where they left them, the one may with
truth affirm that they are all in the same place, or un¬
moved ; and the other may with equal truth affirm that
they have all changed place. The former considers
the men only with respect to their distances from the
several parts of the chess-board, which have kept the
same distance and position with respect to one another.
• The latter must consider the men with respect to their
distance from something else : and finding that the
chess-board, with every thing upon it, has been removed,
we shall suppose, from one room to another, he cannot
hut say that the chess-men have changed their place
with respect to the several parts of the room in which
he formerly saw them.
This modification of distance, however, which we call
place, being made by men for their common use, that
by it they may design the particular position ol objects
where they have occasion for such designation, they
determine this place by reference to such adjacent things
as best serve their present purpose, without regarding
other things which, for a different purpose, would better
determine the place of the same object. rl bus in the
chess-board, the use of the designation of the place of
each chess-man being determined only within that che¬
quered piece of wood, it would cross that purpose to
measure it by anyr thing else : but when these very chess¬
men are put up in a box, if any one should ask where
the black king is, it would be proper to determine the
place by reference to something else than the chess-board;
such as the parts of the room or closet which contain
jg. the box.
b uni- That our idea of place is nothing but such a relative
rse has position of things as we have mentioned, will be readily
l)lace- admitted, w hen it is considered that we can have no
idea of the place of the universe. Every part of the
universe has place j because it may be compared with
respect to its distance from other parts supposed to be
fixed. Thus the earth and every planet of our system
has a place which may be determined by ascertaining
its distance from tbe sun and from the orbits of the
other planets j and the place of the system itself may
be ascertained by comparing it with two or more fixed
stars : but all the systems taken as one whole can have
no place; because there is nothing else to which the
distance and position ot that whole can be referred. It
• is indeed true, that the word place is sometimes used,
we think improperly, to denote that space or portion of,
space which any particular body occupies; and in this
sense, no doubt, the universe has place, as well as the
earth or solar system but to talk of the place of the
universe in the other and proper sense of the word, is
*.)je grossest nonsense.
H Y s i c s. 627
Of
Chap. V. 0/Motion. i Motion.
Mobility, or a capacity of being moved, is es^en-
tial to every corporeal substance; and by actual mo- essentja|
tion are all the operations ot nature performed. Mo-to every
tiun, therefore, if it may lie called an adjunct of body, corporeal
is certainly the most important of all its adjuncts an^
to ascertain its nature and origin demands the closest tural mp
attention of the metaphysician, as well as of the me-tiou<
chanic and astronomer. With the laws of motion, as
discovered by experience, we have at present no con¬
cern : they are explained and fully established in other
articles of this work (See Mechanics, Motion, &e.)
The principal questions which W’e have to consider are :
“ What is motion ? and, By what power is it carried
on ?”
For an answer to the first of these questions, the
modern metaphysician refers every man to his own
senses •, because, in his apprehension, the wrord mo¬
tion denotes a simple idea which cannot be defined.
Among the ancients, the Peripatetics were of a differ¬
ent opinion •, and Aristotle, whose love of dialectic
made him define every thing, has attempted to give
two definitions of motion. As some learned men are
at present labouring to revive this system, we shall,
out of respect to them, mention those definitions,
and make upon them such remarks as to us appeal-
proper. . . 187
The author of Ancient Metaphysics having observed, The Peri-
that both nature and art propose some end in all their PalejIC
operations j that when the end is obtained, the thing 0
operated upon is in a state of perfection or comple-
tion } and that in the operations of both nature and
art there is a progress, and by consequence a change
from one tiling to another j adds, that this change is
motion. Motion, therefore, according to him, is a
change or progress to the end proposed, or to that
state of perfection or completion which Aristotle calls
tfliXiyjix. It is not enough, however, that ive know
to what the change or progress is made: to have an
adequate idea of motion, we must likewise know/row
what it proceeds. Now it is evident that every thing
existing, whether by nature or art, was, before it ex¬
isted, possible to exist j and therefore, adds the same
author, things do in some sort exist even before they
exist. This former kind of existence is said by Ari¬
stotle to be n civyupu, that is, in power or capacity. In
this way, plants exist m their seeds j animals in the
embryo j works of art in the idea of tbe artists and the
materials of which they are made j and, in general,
every thing in the causes which produce it. Fiom this
power or capacity there is a progress to energy or actual
existence; so that we are now able to answer the ques¬
tion, “ from what, and to what, motion is a change ?”
for it is universally true of all motion, that it is a change
from capacity to energy.
“ Having thus discovered that motion lies betwixt
capacity and energy, it is evident (he says) that it must
have a connexion with each of them: and from this
double connexion Aristotle has given us two definitions
of it j one of them taken from the energy, or end to
which it tends ; tbe other from the capacity from which
it begins. The first is expressed in two words, viz.
mpyux aTiMi, or imperfect energy; the other is tiUMyeix
4 K 2
6;3 M E T A P
Of rov sv cfovxyM n (v ovvetpu \viiicli may be translated thus,
Motion. The perfection of ivhat is in capacity, considered merely
as in capacity. The meaning of the last words is, that
nothing is considered in the thing that is moved but
merely its capacity; so that motion is the perfection
of that capacity, but not of the thing itself. It is
something more (adds the learned author) than mere
capacity; for it is capacity exerted, which when it has
attained its end, so that the thing has arrived at that
state to which it is destined by nature or art, ceases,
■,88 and the thing begins to exist or actually.
imintelli- By all the admirers of Aristotle, this latter defini-
gible. tion has been preferred to the former : for what rea¬
son, it is difficult to say. They both involve in the
thickest obscurity that which, viewed through the
senses, is very easily understood ; and on this, as on.
many other occasions, Aristotle was certainly guilty
of darkening counsel by words without knowledge.
The author, whose comment on this wonderful defini¬
tion we have faithfully abridged, admits that it is not
intelligible till we know what change and progress are;
but is it possible to conceive any change to take place
in bodily substances without motion ? or, if we were
called upon to explain what progress is, could wfe do
it better than by saying that it is motion from some¬
thing to something ? It is likewise very obvious that
before we can have an adequate idea of motion, yve
must, according to this definition, know perfectly
what the words capacity, energy, and perfection denote;
and yet nothing can be more true than that perfection
denotes a complex conception, which may be easily
defined by resolving it into the simple ideas and no¬
tions of which it is compounded, Avhilst motion is sus¬
ceptible of no such resolution. The perfection of a
knife is compounded of the temper of the steel and
the sharpness of the edge : the perfection of a system
of philosophy consists of the importance of the sub¬
jects treated, the strength of the author’s arguments,
and the perspicuity of his style and manner; but of
what is the motion of a ball, or an atom, or any thing
else, compounded ? We are aware that to this question
the modern Peripatetics will reply, That it is not the
motion of a hall, or an atom, or any one thing, that
their master has so learnedly defined, but motion ab¬
stracted from all individuals, and made an object of
HYSICS. _ Pam
pure intellect; and they will likewise affirm, that by 0f
the word perfection used in the definition, he does not Motion
mean any one kind of perfection as adapted to any par- '“"■ar¬
ticular object or end, but perfection abstracted from
all objects and all ends. The perfection of nothing and
the motion of nothing, for such surely are that motion
and that perfection which are abstracted from all ob¬
jects and ends, are strange expressions. To us they
convey no meaning ; and we have reason to think that
they are equally unintelligible to men of greater acute¬
ness (o). In a word, motion must be seen or felt; for
it cannot be defined. To call it the act of changing
place, or a passage from one place to another, gives no
information ; for change and passage cannot be con¬
ceived without previously conceiving motion (p). g
The Peripatetics having idly attempted to define mo-The Peri
tion, proceed next to divide it into four kinds or clas-Pj^tic dj
ses. This division w-as by the father of the school vlsl°n of
pretended to be made from the effects which it pro-^10n
duces, and was said by him to belong to three cate¬
gories, viz., quality, quantity, and where, (see Catego¬
ry). The first kind is that well-known motion from
place to place, which falls under the category last men¬
tioned ; the second is alteration, by which the quality
of any thing is changed, the substance remaining the
same. This belongs to the category of quality. The
third is increase, and the fourth diminution, both be¬
longing to the category of quantity. The ancient
atomists, and all the modern metaphysicians of emi¬
nence, have with great propriety rejected this division,
as being nothing but a collection of absurd distinctions
where there is in nature no difference. It has been
already shown, that body has no other real qualities
than solidity, extension, and figure: but of these the
first cannot be altered without destroying the substance;
for every thing which is material is equally solid. The
extension of a body may indeed be enlarged, and its
figure may be altered, while the substance remains the
same : but that alteration can be made only by moving
from their places the solid atoms of which the body is
composed. Aristotle’s second kind of motion there¬
fore differs not from the first; nor do the third and
fourth differ from these two. For a hody cannot be
increased without acquiring new matter, nor diminish¬
ed without losing some of the matter of which it was
originally
m ■^nn^ dicendum de natura motus. Atque is quidem, cum sensibus clare percipiatur, non tarn natu-
ra sua quam doctis plnlosophorum commentis obscuratus est. Motus nunquam in sensus nostros incurrit sine
itmup °rPorea’KPa e empore. unt tamen qui motum, tanquam ideam quandam simplicem et abstractam,
a<dZ elZ -7 A rZ!u yunctam’ ^ntemplari student. Verum idea ilia tenuissima et subtilissima intellectus
Z ZiZtl 'a fi V- qU- SeCUm m^ltantb exPeriri Potest. Hinc nascuntur magn* difficulties de natu-
Aristotelic pt q Z1110*1.68’ 1Psa re> quam 1 ustrare debent longe obscuriores. Hujusmodi sunt definitiones illoe
^ 1 r”’ ‘lu,,.m°t.un, d‘™“t fs? “Cl™ wobilisquatenusest mobile, vel actum entumpotentm
Tr JlhhmTJntnT ' -m f ‘ d WI lnter q»i assent Mil in motu IL reale
SnifioTl » ,T ? Vl adnitente conetitui debet. Ferro constat, horutn et simillum
exSe A „ ° r i “T ,77 abs,rac,llm. "“‘“a seclusa omni temporis et s^atil consideratione,
expacare . set! qua ratione abstracta .11a motus qu.ntessentia (ut ita dicam) intelligi possit non video.”
et per motJmdefil- ^ "7 ■ “ mt! tl'.a"s!t™ ip™- si™ mrfu irfi^non posSi
tenebras afierre T-’V "^'7 7 " enss.mum adeo est definitiones, sicut nonnullis rebus lucem, ita vicissim aliis
quisauam notnei-i, /"'■ o» quascumque res sensu percipimus eas clariores ant notiores deiiniendo elficere vix
difficultatibus nt ll U8, 1X1 V-,in,a &^e .a ectl .res ^ac^es diffieillimas reddiderunt philosophi, mentesque suas
umcuitatibus, quas ut plunmum ipsr peperxssent, implicavere.” Id. ibid.
s-f
190
1 ether,
;• it one
f i exi.st-
e there
c d be
b; ion ?
originally composed : but matter can neither be added
nor taken away without motion from place to place }
for there is now no creation de novo ; and we have no
reason to imagine that, since the original creation, a
single atom has been ever annihilated. It is therefore
past dispute, that local motion is the only motion con¬
ceivable 5 and indeed, as far as we are capable of judg¬
ing from what we know of body, it is the only motion
possible.
This has given rise to a question which has been
debated among modern philosophers, though, as far
as we know, it was never agitated among the an¬
cients, viz. “ Whether, if there were but one solid
body existing, that body could possibly be moved.”
Bishop Berkeley seems to be of opinion that it could
not; because no motion can be conceived but what
has a direction towards some/>/aee, and the relation of
place necessarily supposes the existence of two or more
bodies. Were all bodies, therefore, annihilated ex¬
cept one globe, it would be impossible (he thinks) to
conceive that globe in motion (q,). With respect to
the origin of our ideas of motion, his reasoning appears
unanswerable ; but we do not perceive how it cen-
cludes against the possibility of motion itself as exist¬
ing in a single body. It has been already shewn in
the chapter of Simple Apprehension and Conception, that
though nothing can be conceived which may not pos¬
sibly exist, yet many things may be possible which we
have not faculties or means to conceive. In the pre¬
sent instance, were this solitary globe animated as our
bodies are, were it endowed tvith all our senses and
mental poAvers, it certainly would not acquire any idea
of motion though impelled by the greatest force. I he
reason is obvious *, it Avould have no objects Avith which
to compare its place and situation at different periods
of time j and the experience of a ship at sea in calm
AAeather, affords sufficient proof that motion Avhich is
equable cannot be perceived by any other means than
by such a comparison. When the Avaves savcII and
the ship pitches, it is indeed impossible that those
Avho are on board should not perceive that they are
actually in motion ; but even this perception arises from
comparing their position Avith that of the Avaves rising
and falling around them : AA'hereas in the regions of emp¬
ty space the animated globe could compare its position
Avith nothing} and therefore, whether impelled by
METAPHYSICS. 629
equal or unequal forces, it could never acquire the idea of
of motion. It may perhaps be thought, that if this Motion. .
solitary globe Avere a ^//-moving animal, it might ac- ' ^ v J
quire the idea of motion by inferring its existence from
the energy Avhich produced it. But how, avc Avould
ask, could an animal in such circumstances be self-mov-
ing ? Motion is the effect of some cause j and it has
been already shewn (See N° 117. of this article), that
aa’c have no reason to suppose that any being can be
the real and primary cause of any effect Avhich that be¬
ing can neither conceive nor Avill : but as motion can
be perceived only by the senses, a solitary animal could
have no idea of motion previous to its oavh exertions j
and therefore could neither conceive, nor Avill, an exer¬
tion to produce it. Let us, hoAveA-er, suppose, that
Avithout any end in vieAV it might spontaneously exert
itself in such a manner as would produce sensible mo¬
tion, Avere it surrounded with other corporeal objects j
still Ave may venture to affirm, that so long as it should
remain in absolute solitude, the being itself AV’ould ac¬
quire no idea of motion. It would indeed be conscious
of the mental energy, but it could not infer the exist¬
ence of motion as a consequence of that energy j for the
idea of motion can be acquired only by sense, and by
the supposition there are no objects from Avhich the
senses of this spherical animal could receive those im¬
pressions, Avithout Avhich there can be no perception,
and of course no ideas. 191
Let us noAv suppose, that, while this animated globe Answered
is under tlie influence either of external impulse or its'n t'16 ^
oavu spontaneous energy, other bodies are suddenly
brought into existence: AA’ould it then acquire the idea
of motion ? It certainly would, from perceiving its
OAvn change of place with respect to those bodies;
and though at first it would not perhaps be able to
determine Avhether itself or the bodies around it Avere
moving, yet a little experience Avould decide this que-
tion likewise, and convince it that the motion Avas
the effect either of its OAvn mental energy, or that ex¬
ternal impulse Avhich it had felt before the other bo¬
dies Avere presented to its vieAAr. But it is obvious,
that the creation of neAv bodies at a distance, can
make no real alteration in the state of a body which
had existed before them j and therefore, as this ani¬
mated globe Avould noAv perceive itself to be moving,
we may . infer with the utmost certainty that it was
moving.
(d) Having proved that place, in the proper sense of the Avord, is merely relative, and affirmed that all mo¬
tion is relative likeAvise, the bishop proceeds thus: “ Veruntamen ut hoc clarius apparent, animadvertendum
est, motum nullum intelligi posse sine determinatione aliqua sen directione, quae quidem intelligi nequit, nisi
prteter corpus motum, nostrum etiam corpus, aut aliud aliqitid, simul intelligatur existere. Nam sursum,
deorsum, sinistrorsum, dextrorsum, omnesque plagae et regiones in relatione aliqua fundantur, et necessano cor¬
pus a motu diversum connotant et supponunt. Adeo ut, si, reliquis corporibus 111 nihilum redactis, globus,
exempli gratia, unicus existere supponatur > in illo nullus motus concipi possit: usque adeo necesse est, ut
detur aliud corpus, cujus situ motus determinare intelligatur. Hujus sententioe veritas clarissima elucebit, mo-
do corporum omnium tam nostri quana aliorum, praeter globum istum umeum, anmhilationem recte suppo-
suerimus. . _ . . 1 • t
“ Concipiantur porro duo globi, et praeterea nihil corporeum, existere. Goncipiantur deinde vires, quomo-
docunoue applicari: quicquid tandem per applicationem virium intelligamus, motus circulans duorum globorum
frirca commune centrum nequit per imaginationem concipi. Supponamus deinde coelum hxarum crean: subito
ex concepto appulsu globorum ad diversas coeli istius partes motus concipietur. Scilicet cum motus natura sua
sit relativus, concipi non potuit priusquam darentur corpora correlata. Quemadmodum nec ul.a relatio aha sme
correlatis concipi potest.” De Motu,
630
M E T A P H Y SICS.
Of
Motion.
192
Whether
motion
would be
possible in
space abso¬
lutely full P
Bodies e-
qually in¬
different to
motion and
rest.
moving before; and that the motion of a single body,
though not perceivable by the senses, might possibly he
produced in empty space.
Having thus seen that a single body is capable of
motion in empty space, the next question that occurs
on this subject is, Whether it would be possible to
move a body in space that is absolutely full ? Such
are the terms in which this question is usually put ;
and by being thus expressed, it has given rise to the
dispute among natural philosophers about the existence
of a vacuum. Perhaps the dispute might have been
avoided had the question been more accurately stated.
For instance, had it been asked, whether motion would
be possible, could matter be supposed absolutely in¬
finite without any the least interstice or vacuity among
its solid parts ? We apprehend that every reflecting
man would have answered in the negative. At any
rate, the question ought to be thus stated in meta¬
physics ; because we have seen that space, though a
positive term, denotes nothing really existing. Now it
being of the very essence of every solid substance to ex¬
clude from the place which it occupies every other solid
substance, it follows undeniably, that not one particle
of an infinite solid could be moved from its place
without the previous annihilation of another particle
of equal extent •, but that annihilation would destroy
the infinity. Were matter extended to any degree
less than infinity, the motion of its parts would un¬
doubtedly be possible, because a sufficient force could
separate those parts and introduce among them va¬
cuities of any extent j but without vacuities capable
of containing the body to be moved, it is obvious
that no force whatever could produce motion. This
being the case, it follows, that however far •we sup¬
pose the material universe extended, there must be
vacuities in it sufficient to permit the motion of the
planets and all the other heavenly bodies, which we
plainly perceive to revolve round a centre ; and if so,
the next question to be determined is, What can in
vacuo operate upon such immense bodies, so as to pro¬
duce a regular and continued motion ?
That all bodies are equally capable of motion or
rest, has by natural philosophers been as completely
proved as any thing can be proved by observation
and experience. It is indeed a fact obvious to
the most superficial observer ; for if either of these
states were essential to matter, the other would be
absolutely impossible. If rest were essential, nothing
could be moved ; if motion were essential, nothing
could be at rest, but every the minutest atom would
have a motion of its own, which is contrary to uni¬
versal experience. With respect to motion'and rest,
Part I]
Of
Motion,
matter is wholly passive. No man ever perceived a
body inanimated begin to move, or when in motion
stop without resistance. A billiard ball laid at rest
on the smoothest surface, would continue at rest to
the end of time, unless moved by some force extrinsic
to itself. If such a ball were struck by another ball,
it would indeed be moved with a velocity proportioned
to the impetus with which it was struck; but the impell¬
ing ball would lose as much of its own motion as was
communicated to that upon which the impulse was
made. It is evident, therefore, that in this instance
there is no beginning of motion, but only the communi¬
cation of motion from one body to another j and we
may still ask, Where had the motion its origin ? If the
impelling ball was thrown from the hand of a man, or
struck with a racket, it is plain that by a volition of
the man’s mind the motion was first given to his own
arm, whence it proceeded through the racket from
one ball to another 5 so that the ball, racket, and arm,
were mere instruments, and the mind of the man the
only agent or first mover. That motion can be begun
by any being which is not possessed of life, conscious¬
ness, and will, or what is analogous to these, is to us
altogether inconceivable. Mere matter or inanimated
body can operate upon body only by impulse : but
impulse, though from the poverty of language we
are sometimes obliged to talk of its agency, is itself
merely an effect *, for it is nothing more than the con¬
tact of two bodies, of which one at least is in motion.
An infinite series of effects without a cause is the
grossest absurdity j and therefore motion cannot have
been communicated from eternity by the impulse of
body upon body, but must have been originally pro¬
duced by a being who acts in a manner analogous to
the energies of the human will.
But though motion could not have been begun Motion
but by the energy of mind, it is generally believed produced
that it might be continued by the mere passivity of^ impulse
body; and it is a law of the Newtonian philosophy,
that a body projected in empty space would continue straight
to move in a straight line for ever. The only reason line,
which can be assigned for this lawr is, that since body
continues to move at all after the impetus of projec¬
tion has ceased, it could not of itself cease to move
without becoming active ; because as much force is
required to stop a body in motion as to communicate
motion to the same body at rest. Many objections
have been made to this argument, and to the law of
which it is the foundation ; but as we do not perceive
their strength, we shall not fill our page with a formal
examination of them (r). If a single body could ex¬
ist and have motion communicated to it in vacuo bv the
force
f.
194
(r) By much the strongest and best urged of these objections which we have seen, is made by Dr Horslev, a
and m ancient and modern philosophy. “ I believe with the author of An-
!pnt-‘d1Y11 cariicd in mathematics and aim mouern pnnosopliy. “ I believe with the author ofAn-
of mnknn P CS T ! he)’ ^ S°me .aCtlVe P™clPle is necessary for the continuance as well as for the beginning
mer V been milTh il N?'vtonians ^ allow this : 1 believe they are misled, as I myself ha"ve for-
chanle a ’ 7 ^Pressioa of motion. Motion is a change; a continuance of motion is a farther
contKWv nf XtZ T lS/ •> a repeated effect requires a repeating cause. State implies the
vlnjsics vol ii ^ ’ &n m° 1011 einS ciange> a state of motion is a contradiction in terms.” See Ancient Meta-
necessity of admitting r^aS0”“1S conclusive, they may be in the right; and in that case they will see the
g, e en or he continuance of rectilineal motion, the plastic nature, or something equivalent
3
to
Cap.
lion.
V. M E T A P
force of projection, we are persuaded, that from the
very passivity of matter, that motion would never have
an end 5 hut it is obvious.that it could he moved only
in a straight line, for an impulse can be given in no
other direction.
The heavenly bodies, however, are
T] $ew- A lie heavenly bodies, however, are not moved in
to n doc- straight lines, but in curves round a centre ; and there-
tri re- fore their motion cannot have been originally com
_ue • ■ ’ * * • ’ - ~ - -
s of
th lotion
of : hea¬
ve bo-
di<
«p municated merely by an impressed force of projection.
This is admitted by all philosophers; and therefore
the Newtonians suppose that the planets are moved
in elliptical orbits by the joint agency of two forces
acting in different directions. One of these forces
makes the planet tend directly to the centre about
which it revolves: the other impels it to fly off in a
tangent to the curve described. The former they call
gravitation, which some of them have affirmed to be a
property inherent in all matter ; and the latter, which
is a projectile force, they consider as impressed ah extra.
By the joint agency of such forces, duly proportioned
to each other, Sir Isaac Newtc-n has demonstrated, that
the planets must necessarily describe such orbits as by
observation and experience they are found actually to
describe. But the question with the metaphysician is,
Whether such forces be real ?
With respect to projection, there is no difficulty ;
but that bodies should mutually act upon each other at
a distance, and through an immense vacuum, seems at
first sight altogether impossible. If the planets are
moved by the forces of gravitation and projection,
they must necessarily move in vacuo; for the continual
96
M al at-
tn on a-
m the
he :nly
bo 3 im-
po ile.
H Y S I C S.
resistance of even the rarest medium would in time
overcome the force of the greatest impetus : but if they
move in vacuo, how can they be attracted by the sun
or by one another? It is a self-evident truth, that no¬
thing can act but where it is present, either immediate¬
ly or mediately 5 because every thing which operates
upon another, must perform that operation either by its
own immediate agency or by means of some instrument.
The sun and planets are not in contact j nor, if the mo¬
tion of these bodies be in vacuo, can any thing material
pass as an instrument from the one to the other. We
know indeed by experience, that every particle of un¬
organized matter within our reach has a tendency to
move towards the centre of the earth 5 and we are
intuitively certain, that such a tendency must have some
cause ; but when we infer that cause to be a power of
attraction inherent in all matter, which mutually acts
upon bodies at a distance, drawing them towards each
other, we talk a language which is perfectly unintelli¬
gible (s). Nay more, we may venture to affirm that
such an inference is contrary to fact. The particles of
every elastic fluid fly from each other j the flame of a
fire darts upwards with a velocity for which the weight
of the circumambient air cannot account; and the mo¬
tion of the particles of a plant when growing, is so far
from tending toward the centre of the earth, that when
a flowerpot is inverted, every vegetable in it, as soon as
it is arrived at a sufficient length, bends itself over the
side of the pot, and grows with its top in the natural
position
Sensible of the force of these arguments against the The hea-
possibility venly bo¬
dies cannot
to it, without which we have endeavoured to prove, that the heavenly bodies could not revolve round their re¬
spective centres in elliptical curves.
(s) A different opinion on this point is held by Professor Stewart in his Elements of the Philosophy of the Hu¬
man Mind; a work of which the merit is such as to make it painful to us to differ in any important opinion
from the ingenious author. We shall, however, claim the same liberty of dissenting occasionally from him that
he has claimed of dissenting from Newton, Locke, Clarke, and Cudworth, from whom he differs widely in think¬
ing it as easy to conceive how bodies can act upon each other at a distance, as how one body can communicate
motion to another by impulse. “ I allow (says he, p. 79.) that it is impossible to conceive in what manner one
body acts upon another at a distance through a vacuum; but I cannot admit that it removes the difficulty, to
suppose that the two bodies are in actual contact. That one body may be the efficient cause of the motion of
another body placed at a distance from it, I do by no means assert; but only that we have as good reason to be¬
lieve that this may be possible, as to believe that any one natural event is the efficient cause of another.”
If by efficient cause be here meant the first and original cause of motion, we have the honour to agree with
the learned professor; for we are persuaded, that body inanimated is not, in this sense of the word, th^ cause
of motion either at hand or at a distance: but if he mean (and we think he must, because such was the
meaning of Newton, from whom he professes to differ), that we can as easily conceive one body to be the in¬
strumental cause of the motion of another from which it is distant, as we can conceive it to communicate mo¬
tion by impulse, we cannot help thinking him greatly mistaken. We will not indeed affirm, with the writer
whom he quotes, “that although the experiment had never been made, the communication of motion by
impulse might have been predicted by reasoning a priori f because we are not certain, that without some
such experiment we should ever have acquired adequate notions of the solidity of matter: But if all corporeal
substances be allowed to be solid and possessed of that negative power to which philosophers have given the
name of vis inertice, we think it may be easily proved a priori, that a sufficient impulse of one hard body upon
another must communicate motion to that other •, for when the vis inertice, by which alone the one body is kept
in its place, is less than the vis impetus with which the other rushes to take possession of that place, it is evi¬
dent that the former body give way to the latter, which it can do only by motion, otherwise the two
bodies would occupy one and the same place, which is inconsistent with their solidity. But that a substance
possessed of a vis inertice should make another substance possessed of the' same negative power quit a place to
which itself has no tendency, is to us not only inconceivablefhut apparently impossible, as implying a direct con¬
tradiction.
be moved
by two for¬
ces impres¬
sed ab ex¬
tra ;
63:
Of
Motion.
198
for by the
agency of
any mate¬
rial fluid.
M E T A P
possibility of an attractive power in matter which ope¬
rates at a distance, other philosophers have, supposed
'that the heavenly bodies are moved in elliptical orbits
by means of two forces originally impressed upon each
planet, impelling it in different directions at the same
time. But if the tendency of the planets towards the
centre of the sun be of the same kind with that of
heavy bodies towards the centre of the earth (and if
there be such a tendency at all, wc have no reason to
suppose it different), it cannot possibly be the effect of
impulse. A body impelled or projected in vacuo would
continue to be moved with an equable velocity, nei¬
ther accelerated nor retarded as it approached the object
towards which it rvas directed j but the velocity of a
body tending towards the centre of the earth is conti¬
nually accelerated: and as we cannot doubt but that
the same thing takes place in the motion of a body tend¬
ing towards the centre of the sun, that motion cannot
be the effect of impulse or projection.
Some of the Newtonians therefore have supposed,
“ That all kinds of attraction consist in fine imper¬
ceptible particles or invisible effluvia, which proceed
from every point in the surface of the attracting body,
in all right-lined directions every way } which in their
progress lighting on other bodies, urge and solicit them
towards the superior attracting body; and therefore
(say they) the force or intensity of the attracting
power in general must always decrease as the squares
of the distances increase.” The inference is fairly drawn
from the fact, provided the fact itself were real or pos¬
sible : but it is obvious, that if fine imperceptible par¬
ticles or invisible effluvia were thus issued from every
point in the surface of the sun, the earth and other
planets could not move in vacuo ; and therefore the
projectile motion would in time be stopped by the resist¬
ance of this powerful medium. Besides, is it not alto¬
gether inconceivable, nay impossible, that particles issu-
ingfrom the sun should draw the planets towards that
centre ? would they not rather of necessity drive them
to a greater distance ? To say, that after they have
reached the planets, they change their motion and re¬
turn to the place whence they set out, is to endue them
with the powers of intelligence and will, and to trans¬
form them from passive matter to active mind.
Ihese difficulties in the theories of attraction and
impulse have set philosophers upon fabricating number¬
less hypotheses: and Sir Isaac Newton himself, who
never considered gravitation as any thing more than an
effect, conjectured that there might be a very subtile
fluid or ether pervading all bodies, and producing not
only the motion of the planets, and the fall of heavy
bodies to the earth, but even the mechanical part of
muscular motion and sensation. Others (t) again have
supposed fire, or light, or the electric fluid, to be the
universal agent; and some few (u) have acknowledged,
that nothing is sufficient to produce the phenomena but
the immediate agency of mind.
\\ ith respect to the interposition of any material
’ • 'v^jether ether, fire, light, or electricity, it is
sufficient to say that it does not remove any one dif-
H Y S I C S.
Part I
ficulty which encumbers the theory of innate attrac¬
tion. All these fluids are elastic; and of course the
particles of which they are composed are distant from
each other. Whatever motion, therefore, vre may
suppose to be given to one particle or set of particles,
the question still recurs, How is it communicated from
them to others P If one body can act upon another at
the distance of the teu-thousandth part of an inch, we
can perceive nothing to hinder its action from extend¬
ing to the distance of ten thousand millions of miles.
In the one case as well as the other, the body is acting
where it is not present; and if that be admitted to be
possible, all our notions of action are subverted, and it
is vain to reason about the cause of any phenomenon in
Of
Motion
nature. r99
This theory of the intermediate agency of a subtile The hyp<
fluid differs not essentially from the vortices of Des^'^hof
Cartes ; which appeared so very absurd to Cudworth, Al
that with a boldness becoming a man of the first genius tu^w’orti
and learning, he rejected it, and adopted the plastic na¬
ture of Plato, Aristotle, and other Greek philosophers.
That incomparable scholar observes, that matter, be¬
ing purely passive, the motion of the heavenly bodies,
the growth of vegetables, and even the formation of
animal bodies, must be the effect either of the immediate
agency of God, or the agency of a plastic nature used
as an instrument by Divine Wisdom. That they are
not the effect of God’s immediate agency, he thinks
obvious from several circumstances. In the first place,
They are performed slowly and by degrees, which is
not suitable to our notions of the agency of almighty
Power. Secondly, Many blunders are committed in
the operations of nature, such as the formation of
monsters, &c. which could never be were things form¬
ed by the immediate hand of God. He is therefore
of opinion, that after the creation of matter, God
employed an inferior agent to give it motion and form,
and to carry on all those operations which have been
continued in it since the beginning of the world. This
agent he c-aWs plastic nature ; and considers it as a being
incorporeal, which penetrates the most solid substance,
and, in a manner which he pretends not to explain
otherwise than by analogy, actuates the universe. He
does not look upon it as a being endued with percep¬
tion, consciousness, or intelligence; but merely as an
instrument which acts under Divine Wisdom according
to certain laws. He compares it to art embodied ;
and quoting from Aristotle, says, E< t»r,v tv ra> \vXu k
vxv7n)yi>c>i ofuias «v t>) tpvtru iTToiu. If the art of the ship-
wright were inthe timber itself operatively and effectual
ly, it would there act just as nature doth. He calls it a
certain lower life than the animal, v’hich acts regularly
and artificially for ends of which it knows nothing. It
may be, he says, either a lower faculty of some consci¬
ous soul, or else an inferior kind of life or soul by itself,
but depending in either case upon a higher intellect.
He is aware with what difficulty such a principle will
be admitted by those philosophers who have divided all
being into such as is extended and such as is cogita¬
tive : but he thinks this division improper. He would
divide
(T) The several followers of Mr Hutchinson.
(uj u worth, Berkeley, and the author of Ancient Metaphysics,
4
Uta-
)s- lib. i.
i. i.
200
. wu to
possible.
V. M E T A P
divide beings into those which are solid and extended,
and those which have life or internal energy. Those
beings which have life or internal energy he would
affain divide into such as act with consciousness, and
such as act Without it: the latter of which is this
plastic life of nature. To prove that such an instru¬
ment is possible, or that a being may be capable of
operating for ends of which it knows nothing, he in¬
stances bees and other animals, who are impelled by
instinct to do many things necessary to their own pre¬
servation, without having the least notion of the pur¬
pose for which they work. (See Instinct). He ob¬
serves, that there is an essential difference between rea¬
son and instinct, though they are both the attributes
of mind or incorporeal substance : and that therefore,
as we know of two kinds of mind differing so widely,
there is nothing to hinder us from inferring a third,
with powers differing as much from instinct as instinct
differs from reason. Mankind are conscious of their
own operations, know for what purpose they generally
act, and can by the power of reflection take a retrospec¬
tive view of their actions and thoughts, making as it
were the mind its own object. Brutes are conscious of
their own operations, but they are ignorant of the pur¬
poses for which they operate, and altogether incapable of
reflecting either upon their past conduct or past thoughts.
Between their intellectual powers and those of man,
there is a much greater difference than there is be¬
tween them and a plastic nature, which acts as an in¬
strument of Divine Wisdom without any consciousness
of its mvn operations. Aristotle, from whom princi¬
pally the learned author takes his notion of this plastic
nature, compares it, with respect to the Divine Wisdom
which directs and superintends its operations, to a mere
builder or mechanic working under an architect, for
a purpose of which the mechanic himself knows no¬
thing. The words of the Stagyrite are : Tevj
TlxJavatj crigi Ixarav Tip.iu}iQO'JS kcu
x.xl <p-o!peJhgov( olt txs ctflicts tm¥ Troicvpivw
urct<rt)i oi cl’ a/CTreg x.cci tuv vhx, ttoiu piv, ovx etSo]x
^8 rroiei, oiov xx/u to Trvg' tx piv ovv ce$/v%x Qv<ru rtvi ttoiuv
tovIuv ixxTov rovg pcu^orip^vxc di iioc -f-. “ We account
the architects in every thing more honourable than the
mere workmen, because they understand the reason of
the things done; whereas the other, as some inanimate
things, only work, not knowing what they do, just as
the fire burns: the difference between them being only
this, that inanimate things act by a certain nature in
them, but the workman by habit.”
Still further to prove that a being may be endow¬
ed with some vital energy of a subordinate kind, and
yet be destitute of consciousness and perception, the
learned author observes, that there is no reason to
think that the souls of men in sound sleep, lethargies,
or apoplexies, are conscious of any thing j and still less,
if possible, to suppose that the souls of embryos in the
womb are from the very first moment of their arrival
there intelligent and conscious beings : neither can we
Vol. XIII. Part II* t
H Y S I C S. 6.53
say, how we come to be so differently affected in out
souls by the different motions made upon our bodies,
nor are we conscious always of those energies by
which we impress fantastic ideas on the imagination.
But if it be possible for the souls of men to be for one
instant void of consciousness and intelligence, it fol¬
lows, that consciousness is not absolutely necessary to
those energies and motions by which life is preserved.
To this it may be added, upon the best authority f, S
“that where animal or vegetable life is concerned,
there is in every case a different relation between the terary Es-
cause and effect, and seemingly depending upon the sat/s.
concurrence or influence of some farther principle of
change in the subject, than what subsists in inanimate
matter, or in the causes and effects that are the objects
of mechanical and chemical philosophy.” Now to this
principle of vegetable life, without which, in a seed or
in a plant, vegetation will neither begin nor continue,
though light, heat, air, earth, and water, should concur
in the utmost perfection, Cudworth expressly compares
his plastic nature in the universe. It is so far ('says he)
from being the first or highest life, that it is indeed
the last and lowest of all lives, being really the same
thing with the vegetative.
These arguments, if the phenomena of elective at-Arguments
tractions in chemistry be added to them, demonstrate, for its truth:
. wre think, the possibility of such a principle: and to *)Ut
those who are inclined to affirm that no such thing
can exist, because, according to the description of it
given by Cudworth and the ancients, it is neither
body nor spirit in the proper sense of the Words; we
beg leave to ask, in the words of Locke, “ who told
them that there is and can be nothing but solid be¬
ings which cannot think, and thinking beings that
are not extended P which is all that they mean by the
terms body and spirit.” All the Greek philosophers
who were not materialists, and even the inspired wri¬
ters of the Old and New Testaments, constantly di¬
stinguish between the spirit and the soul of a man, call¬
ing the former sometimes vey?, and sometimes
and the latter j and St Paul, who before he was
a Christian, was learned in philosophy, describes the
constituent parts of man as three, nvivpx, rvpx,
spirit, soul, and body. This distinction, setting aside
the authority with which it comes to us, seems to be
well founded j for there are many operations carried
on in the human body without any conscious exer¬
tion of ours, and which yet cannot be accounted for
by the laws of mechanism. Of these, Cudworth in¬
stances the motion of the diaphragm and other
muscles which cause respiration, and the systole and
diastole of the heart} neither of which, he thinks, can
be the effect of mere mechanism. But, as we are not
conscious of any energy of soul from which they pro¬
ceed, even while we are awake, and still less, if pos¬
sible, while we are asleep he attributes them, not to
the intellect or rational mind, but to this infei’ior vital
principle called (v) j which, in his opinion, acts
4 L the
(v) The existence of this plastic nature was warmly debated between Monsieur Le Clerc and Mon¬
sieur Bayle. Mosheim, who was inclined himself to admit such a principle, gives the following view of Le
Gere’s sentiments from Bibliotheque Choisie, tom. ii. p. 113. Respiratio, inquit, et motus cordis, actiones
sunt, quorum nihil ad animam pertinet* Interim mechanice eas fieri, nullo modo probabile est. In volun-
tariis
202
whether it
be true or
not, the
motions of
the heaven¬
ly bodies
are car¬
ried on by
the con¬
stant agen¬
cy of some¬
thing in¬
corporeal.
M E T A P
the same part in the system of the human hotly which
the plastic nature acts in the system of the world.—
To make the resemblance more striking, he observes,
that even the voluntary motion ol our limbs, though
it proceeds ultimately from an energy of will, seems
to be the effect of that energy employing some instru¬
ment which pervades the sinews, nerves, and muscles
of the body 5 and if the human spirit or nnvpx em¬
ploy the instrumentality of a plastic nature or
in moving the small machine of the body, it seems to
be far from incredible that the Divine Wisdom should
employ the instrumentality of a plastic nature in mov¬
ing the great machine of the universe.
But we need not insist further on the possibility of
such an instrument. Whatever may be thought of
the arguments of Cudworth, of which some are, to
say the least of them, plausible, though others appear
to us to have very little strength, Dr Clarke has
proved, with a force of reasoning not inferior to ma¬
thematical demonstration, that the motions of the
heavenly bodies are carried on by the agency of some¬
thing very different from matter^ under every possible
form. “ For, not to say that, seeing matter is ut¬
terly incapable of obeying any laws in the proper
sense of the word, the very original laws of motion
themselves cannot continue to take place, but by
something superior to matter, continually exerting on
it a certain force or power according to such certain
and determined laws: it is now evident beyond que¬
stion, that the bodies of all plants and animals could
not possibly have been formed by mere matter ac¬
cording to any general lawrs of motion. And not
only so, but that most universal principle of gravita¬
tion itself, the spring of almost all the great and regu¬
lar inanimate motions in the world, answering not at
Of
Motion.
H Y S I C S. _ Part It
all the surfaces of bodies, by which alone they can act
upon one another, but entirely to their solid contents,
cannot possibly be the result of any motion originally s—“V"—
impressed upon matter.” For though it is true, that
the most solid bodies with which we are acquainted
are all very porous; and that, therefore a subtile ma¬
terial fluid might penetrate the bodies of the planets,
and operate upon them with a force exerted inter¬
nally ; still it is self-evident, that the greatest quanti¬
ties of such a fluid could not enter into those bodies
which are least porous, and where the greatest force
of gravitation resides : “ and, therefore, this motion
must of necessity be caused by something which pene¬
trates the very solid substance of all bodies, and conti¬
nually puts forth in them a force or power entirely
different from that by which matter acts upon mat¬
ter*.” Which is, as the same able writer observes, an * Eviden
evident demonstration, not only of the world’s being of Nat.«
originally made by a supreme intelligent Cause; but l'ev£'ikd
moreover, that it depends every moment upon some
superior Being, for the preservation of its frame j and
that all the great motions in it are caused by some
immaterial power perpetually and actually exerting it¬
self every moment in every part of the corporeal uni¬
verse. This preserving and governing power, whe¬
ther it be the immediate power and action of the
same Supreme Cause that created the world, or the
action of some subordinate instruments appointed by
him to direct and preside respectively over certain
parts thereof, gives us equally in either rvay a very
noble idea of Providence. W^e know with certainty,
that real and original power can belong only to a be¬
ing endowed with intelligence and will 5 and, there¬
fore, if the existence of Cudworth’s (w) plastic nature
be admitted, (and we see not why it should be
called
tariis commotionibus nesciunt animi nostri, quid facto opus sit, ut membra commoveantur: imperant ill! tan-
tum. Est vero aliud nescio quid, quod fideliter, si modo organa recte sint affecta, mandata ejus exsequitur,
Quidni igitur suspicemur, esse naturam in corpore nostro viventem, praeter animam nostrum, cujus sit animae
prseceptis et jussis morem gerere ? quamquam potentia ejus ita sit definita, ut obedire nequeat animo, nisi recte
sese habeant organa. Eadem forte natura, corporis nostri motibus impulsa, animam edocet, quid factum
jut, ut ille possit praecipere, quae ad conservationem corporis necessaria judicat. Anima, pergit, sit haec vera
esse putes, si mills erit domino, sibimet ipsi servire nescio, nec ulla facilitate alia, quam imperandi et jubendi
xnstructo. Haec vero natura fictrix non dissimilis erit mancipii cui nihil eorum, quae dominus meditatur,
no turn est, quodque nihil aliud facit, quam ut jussis pareat, et dominum de illis rebus admoneat, quae ad
Sa utem ipsms pertinent.” Mosheim proceeds,—Si quis huic loco sic occurrat, Haec ratione tria lingi in
omine pnneipia; respondet vir doctus : “ Nullis constares argumentis, binis tantum hominem partibus
cons are. os, qm hominem ex binis tantum parjtibus component, nulla ratione explicare posse naturam
eonjunctionis animi et corporis, nisi ipsum Deum statuant cunctis actionibus hominum intervenire : hoc vero
, 1'ina ^ ajestate prorsus mdignum esse. Definitionem accuratam mediae hujus naturae postulantibus sese talem
aie non posse e mtionem respondet: Hoc unum sese scire : esse earn naturam interiori agendi virtute instruc-
am, quae ex se et animam et corpus afficere queat; naturam, quae doceat animam quid rerum geratur in cor-
p<ue jnati11 am unique, quae ammi mandatis, quorum tamen caussas nesciat, fideliter obtemperet.” Reliqua,
qu.e 1 1 us ran ae ‘UJL>s lei caussa Clericus affert, praetereo. Satis copiosa est in illis, quae produximus, medi-
tandi^materia. Mosheim. ed. Syst. Intellect, p. 173.
Such a principle actuating the universe, if it be divested of intelligence, and considered as a second or inferior
n( Cr f lreCtl°? °* ®nPregie» is acknowledged by a very able judge to be a rational hypothesis j and
Answer ^ S ^ certainly open a most entertaining scene of natural philosophy.—See Jones's
motion CuiW°rth; mentioned Berkeley and the author of Ancient Metaphysics, as holding all
these Tiblln;,an 6 €Ct, 0 t le. ^mediate agency ol mind or incorporeal substance. The opinion of the last of
Berkek v w « 00 es®en^,a^y diflerent from C udworth’s 5 and therefore it is needless to quote from him:
y r acquainted with the principles ol the Newtonian philosophy, as well as an abler mathe¬
matician,
I
hap. V. M E T A P
Of called in (x) question), it can be considered only as an
ifotion. instrument employed by Divine Wisdom, as a chis*
' sel or a saw is employed by the wisdom of the me-
203 chanic.
iis theory Nor let it be imagined, that this ancient theory of
motion is in any degree inconsistent with the mathe-
^prin- matical principles of Sir Isaac Newton’s astronomy, or
Jes of with the calculations raised from those principles.
:wton. Having founded his astronomy on analogy between the
phenomena of projectile and planetary motions, he as¬
signed the same or similar forces existing in nature as
the efficient causes of both. And indeed, both in
the act of deriving his principles from the projectile
phenomena, and afterwards for the purpose of apply¬
ing them to the planetary, it was necessary to analyze
H Y S I C S. '635
the elliptical motion of the heavenly bodies into a com-
pound of two simple motions in right lines, produced Motion.
by the action of these different forces j and this might —•—'v J
also be useful for the purposes of teaching and demon¬
stration, just as we find it necessary, in all parts of
science, to separate what in nature is inseparable, for
the convenience and assistance of the understanding.
The planetary motions, however, are very probably
simple and uncompounded, for no experiments can be
tried in those distant regions 3 and the astronomy of
Newton, which is only the application of his mathe¬
matical principles to their mensuration from their ana¬
logy to projectile motions, does not at all require that
the forces of gravition and projection be assigned as
their real existent causes (y). It is sufficient for the,
4 L 2 analogy
matician, than either of these pupils of the ancients 3 and being likewise a man who on all subjects thought
for himself, it may be worth while to lay before our readers a short abstract of his reasoning- respecting the
origin of motion. His words are : “ Totum id quod novimus, cui nomen carptis indidimus, nihil in se con-
tinet quod motus principium seu causa efficiens esse possit. Vis, gravitas, attractio, et hujusmodi voces, utiles
sunt ad ratiocinia et computationes de motu et corporibus motis 3 sed non ad intelligendam simplicem ipsius motus
haturam, vel ad qualitates totidem distinctas designandas. Attractionem certe quod attinet, patet illam ah New-
tono adhiberi, non tanquam qualitatem veram et physicam, sed solummodo ut hypothesin mathematicam.
Quin et Leibnitius, nisum elementarem seu solicitationem ah impetu distinguens, fatetur ilia entia non re ipsa
inveniri in rerum natura, sed abstractione facienda esse. Similis ratio est compositionis et resolutionis virhim
quarumeunque directarum in quascunque obliquas, per diagonalem et latere parallelogrammi. Hac mechanices
et computationi inserviunt: sed aliud est computationi et demonstrationibus mathematicis inservire, aliud rerum
naturam exhibere. Ilevera corpus aeque perseverat in utrovis statu, vel motus vel quietis. Ista Vero perseverantia
non magis dicenda est actio corporis, quam existentia ejusdem actio diceretur. Caeterum resistentiam quam ex-
perimur in sistendo corpore moto, ejus actionem esse fingimus vana specie delusi. lievera enim ista resistentia
quam sentimus, passio est in nobis, neque arguit corpus agere, sed nos pati; constat utique nos idem passuros fuisse,
sive corpus illud a se moveatur, sive ab alio principio impellatur. Actio et reactio dicuntur esse in corporibus ; nec
incommode ad demonstrationes mechanicas. Sed cavendum, ne propterea supponamus virtutem aliquam realem,
quae motus causa sive principium sit, esse in iis. Etenim voces illaeeodem modo intelligendae sunt ac vox attractio ;
et quemadmodum hac est hypothesis solummodo mathematica non autem qualitas physica 3 idem etiam de illis in-
telligi debet, et ob eandem rationem.
“ Auferantur ex idea corporis extensio, soliditas, figura, remanebit nihil. Sed qualitates istae sunt ad motum
indifferentes, nec in se quidquam habent, quod motus principium dicit possit. Hoc ex ipsis ideis nostris perspicuunl
est. Si igiturvoce corpus significatur id quod concipimus, plane constat inde non peti posse principium motus : pars
scilicet nulla aut attributum illis causa efficiens vera est, quae motum producat. Yocem autem proferre, et nihili
concipere, id demum indignum esset philosopho.
“ Procter res corpoi-eas, alterum est genus rerum cogitantium : in iis autem potentiam inesse corpora movendi,
propria experientia didicimus, quando quidem anima nostra pro lubitu possit ciere et sistere membrornm motus,
quacunque tandem ratione id fiat. Hoc certe constat, corpora moveri ad nutum animse, eamque proinde baud
inepte dici posse principium motus 3 particulare quidem et snbordinatum, quodque ipsum dependeat, a primo et
universal! principio.
“ Ex dictis manifestum est cos qui vim activam, actionem motus principium, in corporibus revera inesse affir¬
mant, sententiam nulla experientia fundatam amplecti, eamque terminis obscuris et generalibus adstruere nec quid
sibi velint satis intelligere. E contrario, qui mentem esse principium motus volunt, sententiam propria experientia
munitam preferunt, hominumque omni aevo doctissimorum suffragiis comprobatam.
“ Primus Anaxagoras rec v«!/v introduxit, qui motum inerti materiae imprimeret: quam quidem sententiam
probat etiam Aristoteles, pluribusque confirmat, aperte pronuncians primummovens esse immobile, indivisibile, et
nullum habens magnitudinem. Dicere autem, omne motivum esse mobile, recte animadvertit idem esse ac
siquis dicerit, omne aedificativum esse aedilicabile. Plato insuper in Timaeo tradit machinam banc corpoream,
seu mundum visibilem, agitari et animari a mente, quae sensum omnem fugiat. Et Newtonus passim nec ob¬
scure inuit, non solummodo motum ab initio a Numine profectum esse, verum adhuc systema mundanum ab eodem
actu moveri. Hoc sacris literis consonum est: hoc scholasticorum calcula comprobatur.”
De Motu, passim.
(x) This we say upon the received opinion, that there are things wholly incorporeal. The truth of the opinion
itself will be considered in a subsequent chapter.
(y) Indeed Sir Isaac himself is very far from positively assigning them as the real causes of the phenomena.
The purpose for which they were introduced into his philosophy he clearly explains in the following words :
^ Eadem ratione qua projectile vi gravitatis in orbem flecti posset et terram totam circumire, potest et lima,
ve.
636
M E T A P
Of analogy, on which the whole philosophy is founded,
Number, that tli£ phenomena of motion are known fiom ex-
pgj-jmgnts and observations to he the same m both in¬
stances ) that the principles or general laws mathemati¬
cally established from \\\z forces of the one are transfer¬
red to the phenomena of the other ; and that the proofs
and operations deduced from these principles in the lat¬
ter case, are confirmed by facts and experience, the first
* Tatham's an(| fma} test of truth *.
Chart and
SSf Chap. VI. 0/Number.
“ Amongst all the ideas that we have, as there is
none (says Mr Locket) suggested to the mind by more
ways, so there is none more simple, than that of unity
or one. It has no shadow of variety or composition in
it. Every object our senses are employed about, every
idea in our understandings, every thought of our minds,
brings this idea along with it: and therefore it is the
most intimate lo our thoughts, as well as it is, in its
agreement to all other things, the most universal idea
we have 5 or number applies itself to men, angels, actions,
thoughts, every thing that either doth exist or can be
imagined.” He seems likewise to be of opinion that we
have the idea of unity before that of many ; and that it
is by repeating the simple idea of unity in our own minds
that wre come by the complex ideas of tiro, three, &c.
In this opinion he is joined by Pere Puffier* ; who ob¬
serves that it is impossible to explain the nature of unity,
because it is the most simple idea, and that which per¬
haps first occurred to the mind.
That unity is a simple idea, must be granted 5 but it
certainly did not first occur to the mind, nor can it be
abstracted from all individuals, and apprehended in
Locke’s sense of the word as a general idea. Let anv
k ^ ^ ^ man look into his own mind, and then say whether he
ed froni" has a general idea of one or unity as abstracted from
every indi- every individual object mental and corporeal. In par-
vidual. ticular, when he thinks he has completely abstracted
it from body and mind, sensations, ideas, actions, and
passions, &c. let him be sure, before he pronounce it
a general abstract idea, that he is not all the while
contemplating the idea of its name, or of that nume-
rical figure, by which it is marked in the operations of
arithmetic. Both these ideas are in themselves parti¬
cular ; and become general in their import, only as
representing every individual object to which unity is
in any sense applicable. But in the chapter of Abstrac¬
tion, we have said enough to convince every person ca¬
pable of conviction that they are used as signs for whole
classes of objets.
Instead of being an abstract general idea, unity, as
the basis of number, is in fact nothing but a mere
relation, which cannot be conceived without the re¬
lated objects} and so far is it from being the first idea
204
Unity, as
an idea,
cannot
f Essay,
book ii-
chap. xvi.
* First
Truths.
2°5 ’
H Y S I C S. Parti!
that occurred to the mind, that it is certainly the re- 0f
suit of a comparison, made by the intellect, of two Number. |
or more objects. The ideas which first occur to the —
mind are, beyond all doubt, those which are called
ideas of sensation ; and many such ideas every child re- 2cS
ceives before he is capable of comparing objects and Unity, a
forming to himself notions of number. Unity, or the particular
idea of one, is indeed the element of the science 0fre*ati°n* j
arithmetic, just as a mathematical point is the ele¬
ment of the science of geometry ; but accurate notions
of these elements are, in the progress of knowledge,
subsequent to ideas of many and of surfaces. There is
reason to believe that persons totally illiterate have no
notion at all of mathematical points ; and we think it
possible to conceive an intelligent and conscious being
in such a situation as that he could not acquire a no¬
tion of unity or one. Were a child never to see or feel
two objects of the same kind, we doubt if he would
think of numbering them, or of making such a com¬
parison of the one with the other as would suggest to
his mind the relations of one and tivo ; for these rela¬
tions imply both a sameness and a difference of the
objects beyond the power of a child to ascertain.
The difference indeed would be perceptible to the
senses, but the senses would perceive no sameness or
agreement. A guinea, a shilling, and a ball of lead,
impress upon the mind different sensations j and there¬
fore a child undoubtedly distinguishes these objects
from one another: but what could make him derive
from this his first idea of the relation of number ?
A guinea, a shilling, and a ball of lead, are not one,
two, three, in any sense which a child can comprehend.
To be convinced of this, let any man throw a guinea,
a shilling, and a ball of lead upon a table, and ask a
clown what is their number. From being accustomed
to retail the names of number as signs, without affix¬
ing to them any idea of the things signified, he will
probably answer with quickness three, or perhaps one,
tiro, three: but if he be further asked in what respect
they are one, ttuo, three, \\c believe his answer will not
be so ready: They are not otie, two, three guineas, or
shillings, or balls of lead. A philosopher knows them
to be three pieces of the same first matter under dif¬
ferent forms, and can therefore apply to them the rela¬
tion of number with truth and propriety ; but of the
first matter a clown is entirely ignorant, and of course
cannot call them one, two, three, in any sense which is
at once true and to him intelligible.
I o make it still more evident, that it is only by com¬
paring together things of the same kind that our first
ideas of unity and number are formed, let us suppose
no created being to have hitherto existed except the
animated and intelligent globe mentioned in the last
chapter, and we think it will be granted that such a
being in solitude could never acquire the idea of unity.
Let
1 i n e o' ter ram ^ r« ^ ni0.^° ails Slt’ a^a quacunque vi qua in terram urgeatur, retrahi semper a cursu recti-
TlstolTnoreZnn "uTT A' ‘‘ * ^ ta,i. " > orbemo retineri non potest. H*c vis,
terram versus deducer f0 T?1S u.nam a c«rsu rectilineo : si justo major, plus satis flecteret, ac de orLe
qua cornus in datn mi1 * * * * 6 * e<lum U1 fluippe «t sit justce magnitudinis: et mathematicorum est invenire vim,
Tam iP„ Vuam “ “w C"m r1#c,“te possit; et victim invenire Viam eurvilil
Mathcm. Def, V ^ ' ' ao <iuous ^oco cum velocttate egresstim data vx fiectatur.” ■ Principia
(ap.
nf
iber.
VI. M E T A P
Let us next suppose a cubical body to be created and
exhibited to the senses of this spherical man j the con¬
sequence would be a sensation or beeline; entirely new:
but that feeling would not be of unify ; for, as the au¬
thor of Ancient Metaphysics has somewhere well ob¬
served, unity is no object of sensation. The sensation
would be of colour, hardness, softness, roughness or
smoothness, &c. for beyond these the empire of the
senses does not reach. Again, Let another body he
created of a colour and figure totally different from
the colour and figure of the cube, and the spherical
man would then experience new sensations having no
agreement with those which he had formerly felt.
These different kinds of sensations might be compared
together*, but the result of the comparison would not
be the ideas which are denoted by the words one and
two, but merely that which is expressed by difference
or dissimilarity. Were another cube, however, of ex¬
actly the same size and colour with the former to be
brought into existence, and both to be at once presented
to the view of the spherical man, the rudiments of the
idea of number would then be generated in his mind,
because he could not but perceive the cubes to be in
one respect different and in another the same; different
as being distinct from each other, and agreeing in their
effects upon the organs of sensation.
It appears, therefore, that mankind must have made
i made gome pj-ogress in classing things according to their
J™ genera and species, before they acquired any correct
ideas of the relation of number, or thought of using
Is ac- numerical names or figures as general and discrimi-
I nn t° nating signs: for we say one, two, three, &c. only with
P ^ respect to the species or genus of which each of the
things denoted by these numbers is an individual; and
Hied if there be any thing which has no genus or species,
j lotion neither number nor unity can, in the original sense of
imoer wor^gj be predicated of it (z). We say indeed,
that there is one God; but perhaps we do not always
attend to the meaning of the expression. Language
I' was formed to answer the common purposes of life ;
and those purposes are best answered by denoting in¬
dividuals by the name of the species or genus to which
they belong: but God belongs to no species or genus,
unless he be said improperly (a) to be of the univer¬
sal genus of Being ; and therefore, the true meaning of
the word one, when joined to the verb is, and trans¬
ferred from the creature to the Creator, in such a
=7
must
H Y S I C S. 637
sentence as—“ there is one God”—seems to be nothing Of Time-
more than an affirmation that God exists, and that1 " “v
to him the relation of number cannot be applied. In
a word, unity and number are merely relations between
the individuals of the same species or genus of being j
and men acquire ideas of these relations at the same
time and bv the same means that they are led to class
things into species and genera. As to the processes
of addition and subtraction, and the various purposes
to which number is applied, these things belong to
the science of arithmetic, and fall not under the pro¬
vince of the metaphysician, whose sole object is to
ascertain the real nature and causes of things. It
may, however, be worth while to observe, that Locke,
whose notions of number seem to have been different
from ours, owns, that a man can hardly have any
ideas of numbers of which his language does not furnish
him with names. But if units were either real things,
or even positive ideas, we see not how names could be
necessary to their existence; whereas, if they be nothing
more than mere relations, it is obvious that they cannot
be conceived but as relative either to beings actually
existing, or to names which are the signs of actual
beings.
Chap. VIT. O/Time.
. 208
When St Augustine was asked what time is ? he re- Time, a
plied, “ Si non roges, intelliqo.” An answer from which in/e 0.* ^u'
it may be inferred, that he thought the nature of time
could not be explained by a logical definition. 1'ime ^tinetion to
and eternity are commonly considered as the two modes eternity,
of duration; and if duration be taken in what Locke
thinks its true and original sense, to denote permanence
of existence, with a kind of resistance to any destructive
force, the distinction seems to be sufficiently proper.
It is indeed the best that we can make or compre¬
hend ; for duration, time, and eternity, are subjects
which have perplexed philosophical minds in all ages,
and of which, if we have adequate notions, it is
very difficult to express these notions in language In¬
stead of attempting it by previous definitions, the me¬
thod in which the ancients generally began their in¬
quiries, we shali pursue the better course of induction
recommended by Lord Bacon, and endeavour to show
by what means we acquire the notion of that mode
of duration which is called time in contradistinction
to
(z) We are happy to find our notions on this subject confirmed by an authority so respectable as that of
Professor Stewart. “ Without the povtfer of attending separately to things which our senses present to us in
a state of union, we never (says this able writer) could have had any idea of number: for before we can con¬
sider different objects as forming a multitude, it is necessary that we should be able to apply^ to all of them
one common name ; or, in other words, that we should reduce them all to the same genus. I he various ob¬
jects, for example, animate and inanimate, which are at this moment before me, I may class and number in a
variety of different ways, according to the view of them that I choose to take. I may reckon successively the
number of sheep, of cows, of horses, of elms, of oaks, of beeches ; or I may first reckon the number of ani¬
mals, and then the number of trees ; or, I may at once reckon the number of all the organized substances which
■ my senses present to me. But whatever be the principles on which my classification proceeds, it is evident that
the objects numbered together must be considered in those respects only in which they agree with each other ;
and that if I had no power of separating the combinations of sense, I could never have conceived them as
forming a plurality.” Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, chap. iv.
(a) We say improperly, because beings which were created can have nothing in common with that Being which
is self-existent, and upon whose will and power all other things depend.
/
sop
'Whilst the
mind is oc¬
cupied by.
one idea or
notion,
there is no
perception
of time;
which
2X0
arises from
comparing
the succes¬
sion of our
ideas with
the perma¬
nence of
other ob¬
jects.
M E T A P
to eternity. We begin with time j because tve our¬
selves exist in it, and it is in some sense familiar to us.
If we be able to trace our notions of this mode of du¬
ration to their source, we may then give a definition
of it founded on fact and universal experience, and
afterwards proceed to consider the other mode in con¬
junction with infinity, to which it is nearly allied.
It has been already observed (see N° 92 of this ar¬
ticle), that every man, while awake, has a train of
sensations and ideas constantly passing through his
mind in such a manner, as that the one succeeds the
other in a regular order. It is not possible, either, by
detaining in the mind one idea to the exclusion of
all others, to stop the course of this succession en¬
tirely j or, by hurrying some ideas off’ the stage, and
calling others in their place, to quicken its progress
beyond a certain degree. One man indeed has naturally
a quicker succession of ideas than another; and all
men can, by great exertions, accelerate or retard in
a small degree the natural flow of their thoughts. A
studious man lays hold, as it were of a particular
idea, which he wishes to contemplate, and detains it
in the imagination, to the exclusion of all others 5 a
man of wit calls remote ideas into view with a rapidi¬
ty of which a cool and phlegmatic reasoner can form
no conception ; and a forcible seiisation takes full pos¬
session of the mind, to the exclusion of all ideas what¬
ever. Whilst the attention is wholly occupied by one
idea, or by one sensation, the mind has no notion
whatever of time ; and were it possible to detain such
idea or sensation alone in the mind till the hand of a
clock should move from the number of one hour
to that of another, the hour, as marked on the dial-
plate and measured by the motion of the hand, would
appear but as one instant absolutely void of duration,
lor the truth of this assertion we appeal to the expe¬
rience of our readers. Such el them as have ever
been engaged in deep study must often have had their
attention so fixed upon one object, that large portions
o time, as measured by the clock, have passed away
wholly unheeded ; and every man who has seen a very
striking and uncommon object, must remember, that
w.ien the sensation was first impressed upon his mind,
a‘ 0, r °bjects, ideas, and notions, and amona; the
rest the notion of time, were for a while excluded.
. .0 sensa.tion, however, keeps possession of the whole
mind alter it has ceased to be new ; nor can the most
vigorous exertions long preserve any one idea from be¬
ing driven off the stage by: the succeeding train. Now
this succession of ideas appearing and disappearing in
hen turns, is that which, when compared with the
permanency of ourselves and other things, gives us
our first and justest notion of time: for whilst we are
thinking, or whilst a series of ideas is successively pas¬
sing through our minds and vanishing, we know that
we ourselves and the things around us exist; and this
with the^ °- CTimlafltl0n °f .cxistence> commensurate
.viti the train of our fleeting ideas, is what we call the
- iration ol ourselves and the things around us.
We are aware that the first notions of time have
1 en ° tcn sai^ to 1)6 derived from motion as perceived
be no sound nor ^ ^ "Ti n° there could
11 1 ) °r aUy Sense °f hearing.” “ JJe niio-ht
added (savs the author of Ancient Metaphy^
HYStCS. Parti
nor any other perception of sense, f urther, Without Afr
motion there would have been no visible world, norL ^
generation or production of any kind here below;
and, among other things, time could have had no ex¬
istence.” All this is Certainly true j but that corpo¬
real motion, though the original source of all our
ideas, is not that which immediately suggests to us the
notion of time, will he readily granted by him who
considers that motion itself is perceived by us only
when it excites or accompanies a constant succession of
perceptions and ideas. Motion, when equable and
very slowr, such as that of the hour hand of a com¬
mon watch, is not perceived by us in its course ; nor
can we discover that the thing has moved at all, till
after we have been sensible of the lapse of a consider¬
able portion of what is commonly called when
we discover that the hand of the watch has changed
its place with respect to other objects which we know
to be fixed. The same is true of motion remarkably
quick : “ Let a cannon ball (aays Locke) pass through
a room, and in its way take with it any limb or fleshv
parts ol a man 5 it is as clear as any demonstration
can be* that it must strike successively the two sides of
the room ; it is also evident that it must touch one part
of the flesh first, and another after, and so in succession:
and yet I believe nobody who ever felt the pain of such
a shot, or heard the blow against the two distant walls,
Could perceive any succession either in the pain or
Sound of so swift a stroke.”
Of these two phenomena a satisfactory account may
he easiK- given ; from which we think it will at the
same time he apparent, that the succession of the train
ot ideas in the mind is the measure and standard of
all other successions* We know that the eiiergy of 2111
mind which reviews a train of sensible ideas is of the Tlie.suc-
very same kind with that which attends to a series of f.ess*on,°l
passing sensations (See N° 68.) j and therefore it is na-^asure
tural to suppose that we can pay attention to sensations all oilier
and ideas passing with nearly equal velocities. But itsuccessioj
has been shown, that every sensation remains in the
mind or sensorium, lor a very short space after the
object which excited it is taken away: whence it
follows, that a body communicating to the organs of
sense a series of similar impressions succeeding each
other with remarkable rapidity, cannot excite a train
ol similar and distinct sensations 5 because the effects
ol the first and second impressions not having vanished
when those of the third and fourth arrive, the whole
train ol effects must necessarily coalesce into one uni¬
form sensation. This reasoning is confirmed by expe¬
rience. Similar sounds succeeding each other at con¬
siderable intervals, are all distinctly perceived 3 and if
the motion be accelerated gradually, it may be carried
to a great degree ol velocity before the sounds be con¬
founded and coalesce into one. “ Mr Hersehel having,
by means of a clock, produced sounds or clicking
tioises, which succeeded each other with such rapidity
that the intervals between them were, as far as could
be judged, the smallest possible, found that he could
evidently distinguish one hundred and sixty of them in
a,.Secan^ lime ? hut beyond that he could by no
effort ol attention distinguish one sound from another.
1 he same philosopher tried another experiment on vi¬
sible sensations By means of the same handle and
work of the clock, he caused a wheel in it to turn
till
c ip. VII. M E T A P
0 ime. till it acquired the velocity of once’in a second. He
u continued to increase the velocity, and observed it
while revolving at the rate of twenty times round in
thirteen seconds, and could still distinguish the teeth
and spaces from each other ; whence it appears (by a
computation given at length), that he had two hun¬
dred and forty-six distinct visible sensations generated
by equable motion in a second of time. The teeth
of the wheel, he owns, were not so far visible as to show
their shape distinctly, much less could they have been
counted : but he very plainly distinguished the circum¬
ference to be divided into teeth and spaces y and he
supposes that the same division might still have been
seen though the motion had been a little faster, as far
perhaps as two turns in a second, equal to three hun-
* I (son's dred and twenty sensations The reason that the
fl won division could not be seen whilst the wheel moved more
rapidly than twice round in a second of time, was
doubtless the continuance of that agitation in the brain
from which each sensation proceeded, until a new im¬
pression caused a new agitation which coalesced with
the former and removed all distinction Hence it is
plain, that no external succession can be perceived which
moves with a greater velocity than that of which the
internal train of sensations and ideas is capable. On
the other hand, an external succession which moves
with less rapidity than that to which the internal flow
of ideas may be reduced, either has not sufficient force
to generate sensations at all, or the successive impres¬
sions from which the sensations proceed follow one an¬
other at such distances as to permit the natural train of
ideas to intervene between them, and thus destroy the
perception of the succession entirely.
To us, therefore, it seems evident, that the con¬
stant and regular succession of ideas in the mind of a
waking man, is the measure and standard of all other
successions } of which, if any one either exceeds the
pace of which our ideas are capable, or falls short of
it, the sense of a constant and continued succession is
lost, and Ave perceive it not but with certain intervals
of rest between. So that it is not motion, but the
constant train of ideas in our minds, that suggests to us
our first notion of time j of which motion no other-
wise gives us any conception, than as it causes in our
minds a constant succession of sensations: and we
have as clear a notion of time by attending to the
train of ideas succeeding each other in our minds, as
by a train of sensations excited by constant and percep¬
tible motion.
That it is merely by comparing the permanent ex¬
istence of things with the fleeting succession of ideas
in our own minds that we acquire our notions of
time, may perhaps be still more evident from the fol-
tlfay on lowing narrative quoted by Hr Beattie f, from L'Hts-
r 1}u toire deP Academic Royale des Sciences pout' Vannee 1719.
“ A nobleman of Lausanne, as he was giving orders
to a servant, suddenly lost his speech and all his senses.
Hiflerent remedies were tried without effect. At
last, after some chirurgical operations, at the end of
'six months, during all which time he had appeared to
be in a deep sleep or delirium, his speech and senses
were suddenly restored. When he recovered, the ser¬
vant to whom he had been giving orders when he
was first seized with the distemper, happening to be
in the room, he asked whether he had executed his
H Y s I c s. 639
commission, not being sensible, it seems, that any in- Of Time.
terval of time, except perhaps a very short one, had  v J
elapsed during his illness.” If this story be true, here
was a man, who, by the train of ideas vanishing at
once from his mind, lost the perception of what was
to others six months of time : and had all mankind
been in his state, the same portion of time would have
been irrecoverably lost even to the annals of chrono-
logy.
We are aware of an objection to any inference
which may be drawn respecting the present question
from the case of this nobleman. It may be said that
he had lost, together with the perception of time, the
perception of every thing besides 5 and that, therefore,
motion may still be the cause from which a waking
man derives his notions of time. But in reply to this
objection, wTe beg leave to ask, W hether if a ball had
been put in motion on a table, and the nobleman had
been told, that a body moved with the velocity of that
ball would have been carried over so many thousand
miles of distance during the time that he lay in a state
of insensibility, he could from such information alone
have formed any tolerable notion of the length of
time in which he was insensible ? He certainly could
not, for want of a standard by which to measure the
rapidity of the motion. He would, indeed, have
known instantly that he had been insensible for a con¬
siderable length of time, because he had the evidence
of former experience that a body carried by perceptible
motion over a great extent of distance wmuld have
generated in his mind a vast train of successive sensa¬
tions } but till he had attended this ball during part
of its course, and compared with the permanency of
other objects the series of sensations which it gene¬
rated in his mind, he would not have been able to
guess with any thing near to accuracy the length of
time it would take to pass over a thousand miles,—
The same insensibility of duration happens to every
man in sound sleep. From having notions of time,
such as they are, formed in our minds, we never in¬
deed suppose, however soundly we have slept, that the
moment at which we awake in the morning is conti¬
guous to that in which we fell asleep at night. The
reason is obvious } every man has been awake whilst
others were sleeping, and has known by experience,
that if they had been awake likewise a train of ideas
would have passed through their minds which must have
suggested to them the notions of time. Most men, too,
have been frequently awake whole nights, and have
thus acquired a notion of time as going on incessantly,
whether perceived by them or not} and this motion be¬
ing closely associated with our ideas of night and morn¬
ing, we inevitably suppose a portion of time to have
elapsed between them, though unperceived by us in our
sleep. But were a man to sleep without dreaming from
Sunday night till Tuesday morning, and then to awake
at his usual hour as marked on the clock, there are num-
beidess instances on recoi'd to convince us, that he would
not of himself suppose, nor perhaps be very easily
persuaded, that more than one night had elapsed be¬
tween his falling asleep and the moment at which he
awoke.
It being thus evident, that our notion of time is
suggested by that comparison which we inevitably
make of the existence of things permanent with the
train
64-0
Of Time.
212
Time a
mere rela¬
tion of co¬
existence.
213
Objections
answered.
M E T A P
train of Ideas incessantly passing through our minds ;
1 wo may now perhaps be able to answer the question,
« What is time ?” It must of necessity be one of three
things, viz. either the ideal succession itself; a certain
quality inherent in all objects; or merely the relation
of coexistence between things that are permanent and
the trains of fleeting ideas which succeed each other
on the theatre of the imagination. It is not the first
of these 5 for in every train of thought, the appearance
of any one idea in the mind occupies no more of the
extension of time, than a mathematical point occupies
of the extension of distance. Ten thousand mathe¬
matical points added together would make no part of
a line ; and ten thousand ideas made to coalesce, if
that were possible, would occupy no part of that mode
of duration which is called time. A point is the
boundary of a line, but no part of it: the appearance
of an idea in the mind is instantaneous; and an instant
is the boundary, but no part of time. Hence it fol¬
lows, that were every thing instantaneous like ideas in
a train, there could be no such thing as time, since
nothing could be said to have in that sense of the
word any duration. That time is not a quality inhe¬
rent in all objects, is likewise plain ; for we have seen,
that were ideas as permanent as objects, the notion
of time could never have been acquired. Succession,
though it does not itself constitute time, is essential
to its existence j and were all motion to cease, and
the attention of men to be immoveably fixed upon one
invariable object or cluster of objects, time would cease
likewise. It remains, therefore, that time can be
nothing else than the relation of coexistence appre¬
hended between things that are permanent and those
trains of fleeting ideas which incessantly succeed each
other on the theatre of the imagination. Thus whilst
a man is steadily looking at one object, which, from
its being common, does not occupy his -whole mind,
he may he conscious of a thousand ideas starting up
in his imagination, and each in its turn vanishing the
instant in which it appeared. Every one of these
ideas had an existence as well as the object at which
he is looking; but the existence of each of them was
instantaneous and in succession, while the existence of
the external object is permanent. The object, there¬
fore, as contrasted with a train of ideas, is said to
endure or to exist in time, whilst each idea is destitute
of duration, and exists in no time.
To this theory some objections occur, which it will
be incumbent upon us to obviate. It mav be said,
that though each idea considered by itself is instan¬
taneous, and occupies no time ; yet the whole train
when taken together, . without being compared with
any thing external, is perceived to occupy a consider¬
able portion of that mode of duration j and that,
therefore, time itself- must he something more than a
mere relation between a fleeting succession of ideas
and objects of more permanent existence. But how,
we beg leave to ask, is the whole train perceived to
occupy any portion of time? Is it not by being com¬
pared with our own existence ? A man whilst a train
of ideas is passing through his mind may be suddenly
deprived of all his external senses, and then indeed it
will be impossible for him to compare the fleeting ex¬
istence oi this internal succession with the more per-
- manent existence of external things j but, whilst he
2 :~
H Y S I C S.
Part I
thinks at all, he must be conscious of his own existence,
and cannot avoid perceiving, that whilst his ideas pass
in constant succession, each making an instantaneous
appearance in his mind, he himself remains unchanged.
Now, what is it that this perception suggests to the
mind ? Evidently nothing more than the relation of
coexistence between a fleeting succession and a per¬
manent object for were it possible that the man could
be deprived of memory as well as of his senses, and
still have ideas succeeding each other in his mind, he
would then think all objects equally fleeting j he would
indeed be himself a mere succession of instantaneous
distinct persons, and could have no notion whatever
of time. His existence, though it should seem to
endure half a century as estimated by others, must
to himself appear to pass away like a flu.Ji of light¬
ning.
It may be still further objected to our theory, that
time is measured by motion j and that it seems very
absurd to talk of measuring a relation, especially a
mere ideal relation, by a real external thing. In an¬
swer to this objection, which at first sight appears for¬
midable, we beg leave to observe, that all relations are
equally ideal; and that yet many of them may he said
to be measured by real external things, with as much
propriety as time can be said to be measured by mo¬
tion. When a man wishes to ascertain the relation of
quantity which one body hears to another, though he
knows that such a relation lias no other than an ideal
existence, and cannot be conceived but in conjunction
with the related bodies, he applies to them successively
some commom standard 5 and having discovered the
relation which each bears to that, he compares the
one relation with the other, and thus ascertains the
relation sought. Just so it is with respect to motion
measuring time. That which to each individual con¬
stitutes real time, is the relation, of coexistence be¬
tween the fleeting succession of his own ideas and other
things of a more permanent nature. But a man has of¬
ten occasion to ascertain the time of things external
which fall not under the inspection of his senses ; and
in society all men have transactions with one another to
be performed in some determinate portion of time,
though there are not, perhaps, two men existing whose
ordinary trains of thought flow with precisely the same
rapidity. To remedy these inconveniences, it was ne¬
cessary to invent some common standard, by means of
which men might ascertain the duration of actions per-
lormed at a distance, and be aide to keep appointments
made with each other. The only standard proper for these
purposes is such a constant and equable motion as has
suggested a flux of perceptions common to all men in
all ages and countries j and hence the motions of the
heavenly bodies have been universally made use of for the
common regulators of time. These motions, however,
do not constitute real and natural time, any more than
a toot or a yard applied to two distant bodies constitutes
the relation of quantity which these bodies bear to each
other. I hey are merely stated measures, to be different¬
ly applied according to the different purposes which we
have in view.
Thus, if a man in Europe wishes to know what
would to him have been the real and natural time of
an action performed in the East Indies, he has only
to be told that it was co-existent, we shall suppose,
with
Of Tim,
(ap. VII. ME TAP
i rime, with a diurnal revolution of the earth j and by com-
w y - ■ paring this common measure with Ins usual ilow of
thought, he can form some notion of the extent of that
train of ideas, which, had he been present, would to
him have been successively co-existent with the action
in question. But when persons have an appointment to
keep, this common measure of motion must be differ¬
ently, or rather partially, applied. In such cases, it
is no part of their intention to compare their own ex¬
istence with that of the whole train ol ideas which
may pass in the mind of each} for the result of such
a comparison, which alone constitutes true and natu¬
ral time, would not he the same in perhaps auy two
men : but their purpose is, to compare their own per¬
manent existence only with that train of sensations
which shall he excited in the mind by the perceptible
motion of the sun, or any other body fixed upon which
moves equably} and such a train must consist of an
equal number of instants in all men. Neither the
sun, nor the hour hand of a common watch, moves
with such apparent rapidity as to keep pace with the
internal flow of thought ot which the most phlegma¬
tic man is conscious. That these bodies move at all,
is known only by their visible change of place during
the lapse of a considerable portion ot real time } and
as there is in their course a certain number ot places
distinctly marked, to which alone it is agreed that
the attention is to be turned, it is impossible that of
time so computed two men can have diflei’ent notions.
Such time, however, is but partial; and the method
of ascertaining it, when compared with that by which
wre ascertain real time, has a striking resemblance to
that by which we ascertain the relation of partial
quantity between two distant bodies. When it is
our purpose to ascertain the relation of real quantity
which one body bears to another, we apply the com¬
mon standard to each in every dimension ol length,
breadth, and depth ; but when we have no other view
than to ascertain the relation of length which the one
bears to the other, we apply the common standard to
each in that dimension only. Just so it is with regard
to real and partial time. W hen an individual wishes
to ascertain what would to him have been the dura¬
tion of any action which he did not see performed,
lie applies the common standard to the existence of
that action, and to the usual flow ot his own thoughts :
hut when two men talk of the duration of any ac¬
tion, or agree to meet on such a day, they compare
the existence of the action, or the distance interven¬
ing between the present moment and the day of
meeting, only with that partial train of sensations
which by the common standard is generated in an
equal number, and in the same order, in the minds
of both.
I f must It will be said, that if time be nothing more than a
had a mere relation subsisting between trains of ideas or
^ 'uiiig. other fleeting objects, and things oi a more perma¬
nent existence } and if the universe had a beginning j
either time must have had a beginning likewise, or the
. Deity cannot be immutable. We allow the force ol
Vol. XIII. Part II.
H Y S I C S. 641
the argument 5 but instead of an objection, We consider Of Infinity
it as a confirmation of the truth ol our theory. The and Kter-
Deity, who is immutable, exists not in time, but ju mt)' _ ^
eternity, and that these, though from the poverty ol
language they are both called modes ol duration, are
vet very different from each other, we shall endeavour
to prove in the next chapter.
Chap. VIII. 0/Infinity and Eternity.
As corporeal substance is certainly not infinite, and^Ty we
as the present material system has in itself every evi-fiDe^ VJ1'
denco ol its not being eternal, it may seem strange,e^e,.ni^y
perhaps, to the reader, that we should treat of infinity among the
and eternity among the adjuncts of body. But in adjuncts
modern metaphysics these words are used in a vague ^
sense to denote the extent of space and. time $ and in.
this chapter it is our intention to do little more than
ascertain their meaning, and to show, in opposition te
some celebrated names, ol what subjects they may not.
be predicated. There is a mathematical and a meta¬
physical infinity, which, though often confounded,
ought to be kept distinct. In mathematics, extension
is said to he divisible ad infinitum, and number is some¬
times considered as infinite : hut in metaphysics these
modes of expression are extremely improper. A posi¬
tive and metaphysical infinite is that which has no li¬
mits, and to which no addition can he made ; hut it is
obvious that there is no number which may not he en¬
larged, nor any positive idea of extension which has not
limits, and which may not be either increased or dimi¬
nished. The infinity of the mathematician is termed
infinity of power, and that of the metaphysician absolute
infinity. The first consists in this, that a being, how¬
ever great or small it he supposed, may still he con¬
ceived to possess more greatness or minuteness than we
can lorm an idea ol, even after the utmost stietch ot
human thought. I bus when it is said, that all exten¬
sion as such is infinitely divisible, it is not meant that
every extended substance contains an infinite number
of real parts : for then the parts of an inch would he
equal to those of a league : hut the meaning is, that
in ideal extension we can never reach the end of ideal
division and subdivision. In like manner, when it is
said that number is infinite, the meaning is not that
any positive number is without limits, or the possibi¬
lity of increase, hut that we might go on for ever,
adding unit to unit, without approaching nearer to the
end of the process. If, therefore, the mathematician
Would speak properly, and without the affectation ol
paradox, he ought to say that all extension as such is
indefinitely divisible, and that unit might be added to
unit without end; but these phrases suggest notions
very different from that of a metaphysical infinite, ^
which is something positive to which nothing can fieSpaceami
added (B). . . lime suppo-
That there is something positively infinite, has been sed to be,
very seldom questioned ; hut it has been warmly *
puted among metaphysicians what subjects aic infinite.^ ot]ier
-j- 4 JVI I'1 eternal:
(b) 'Ov y«£ cv y.rdiv iv au to trh, Toulo w,i.
tom. i. Opcr,
Arist. Pfys. Auscult. lib. ix. cap. 9. page 492;
* Demon¬
stration of
the Being
and Attri¬
butes of
Ciod, and
Correspon¬
dence with
a Gentle¬
man of
Gloucester¬
shire.
ill
but impro¬
perly.
21S
Neither
space nor
M E T A P
Dr Clarke and his adherents have contended that space
and time are real things ; that they are bodies of neces¬
sary existence j that the former impresses us with the
idea of its infinity, and that the latter is positively
eternal. “Time and space (says the doctor*) are
the sine qua non of all other things, and of all othei
ideas. To suppose either of them finite, is an express
contradiction in the idea itself. No man does or can
possibly imagine either of them to be finite; but only
either by non-attention or by choice he attends perhaps
to part of his idea, and forbears attending to the remain¬
der. They who suppose space to be nothing but a
relation between two bodies are guilty of the absurdity of
supposing that which is nothing to have real qualities :
For the space which is between two bodies is always unal¬
terably just what it was, and has the very same dimen¬
sions, quantity, and figure, whether these or any other
bodies be there or any where else, or not at all. Just as
time or duration is the same, whether you turn your
hour-glass or no, or whether the sun moves or stands
still, or whether there was or was not any sun, or any
material world at all. To set bounds to space is to
suppose it bounded by something which itself takes up
space, and that is a contradiction; or else that it is
bounded by nothing, which is another contradiction.
To suppose space removed, destroyed, or taken away,
amounts to the absurd supposition of removing a thing
away from itself; that is, if in your imagination you
annihilate the whole of infinite space, the whole of in¬
finite space will still remain ; and if you annihilate any
part of it, that part will still necessarily remain, as
appears by the unmoved situation of the rest; and to
suppose it divided or divisible amounts to the same con¬
tradiction.”
The absurdity of considering space as a real external
thing has been already evinced in Chap. IV. p. 624.
where it was shown how we acquire the notion, and what
kind of notion it is. Space, as was there observed, may
he conceived either as the mere absence and possibili¬
ty of body ; or as ideal extension, united to, and in¬
hering in, an ideal substratum. Taken in the former
sense, it is an object of pure intellect 5 in the latter, it
is an idea ov form in the imagination. That the ab¬
sence of body or matter is the sine qua non of all other
tilings, and all other ideas, Dr Clarke was not dis¬
posed to affirm, when he made the divine substance to
pervade every material atom in the universe: and to
talk of the absence of body being infinite is a palpable
contradiction, unless Berkeley’s doctrine be true, that
the material world has no existence. To say that the
possibility of matter is infinite, is to use language which
has no other meaning than that, however far the mat-
terial world be on all sides extended, its extension may
still be conceived greater and greater ad infinitum. This
is a position which no philosopher ancient or modern
lias ever denied ; but it is so far from implying that
we have a positive idea of the infinity of the material
world, or of any adjunct of the material world, that it
js absolutely inconsistent with such infinity. Whatever
is capable of perpetual increase must certainly have
limits, and every new addition is the limit of that to
which the addition was made.
Taken in the second acceptation as an ideal extension
united with an ideal substratum, space is so far from
being infinite in any sense of the word, that we will
H \ SIC S. Part ]
venture to assert no man ever contemplated such -a. form ofinfinj
in his own imagination, without conceiving it to be andEt
bounded. 01 this, at least we are certain, that when “by-
we have attempted to frame a positive idea of pure '"■“Y"
space, it has not been in our power to divest that idea
of limits. Those who can frame in their minds real
and positive ideas wholly abstracted from every indi¬
vidual object, may indeed perform in this way many
feats above our abilities j but as wre possess no such
powers of abstraction, every thing which wTe can call an
idea is limited in the same manner that the object it¬
self is limited from which the idea was derived. Thus,
the largest expansion that ever we beheld is the concave
hemisphere j and when we try to form the largest po¬
sitive idea of pure space, all that we can do is to figure to
ourselves that concave empty of body. We may, in¬
deed, suppose its diameter to be either a million or ten
thousand millions of miles ; and wm may go on enlarg¬
ing it ad infinitum : but when we return from this pro¬
cess of intellect to the contemplation of the ideal forms
of the imagination, none of these forms appear to us
larger or more extended than the hemisphere, which is
the object of sense, and they all appear to be bounded,
and bounded in the very same way.
With respect to the eternity of time, we think Di-
Clarke equally mistaken as with respect to the infinity
of space. Of time, indeed, we cannot, properly speak¬
ing, have any idea or mental form. Time, as we have timg ^ ,
seen, js a mere relation, and is in itself the creature ofpositiTef
the mind which has no external idiatum. It is suggest-infinite;
ed, however, by the fleeting succession of our ideas,and wll1
compared with the more permanent existence of other
objects : and therefore succession is essential to it. But
nothing which has parts, whether coexistent or in
succession, can be positively infinite. For, “ in an in¬
finite series of successive generations of men, for in¬
stance, there will be several infinites that are parts of
one another j and by consequence one greater than an¬
other: which (as has been well argued*) is an ex-^,- t 1 1
press contradiction, since the greater must necessarily jnA.fj
bound the less, and exceed its limits by so much as it to the i s
is greater than it; that is, must make it not infinite.0/^ i
Infinite generations contain an infinitely greater infi-1
nity of particular men. An infinite number of men^jt!
must have twice as many hands, and ten times as manynity.
fingers, and so on. Infinite time has an infinity of See alsc e
ages; these a much greater infinity of years, days,sailiea<fI
hours, &c. Space likewise (according to Dr Clarke)
has three dimensions, all infinite. It must therefore, Si
contain an infinity of surfaces, an infinitely greater in-Origin
finity ot lines, and a still infinitely greater infinity o[E',M.
physical points. rI he case is the same in number it¬
self, which, if we suppose it to contain an absolute in¬
finity of thousands (and we may as well do that as
imagine it to comprehend an infinity of units), it will
contain ten times as many hundreds, fifty times as
many scores, and so on. All this is only the indefi-
mteness ol number, which we in vain attempt to turn
into a positive infinite with which it is totally incom¬
patible. For let us add one to any of these infinite
series of generations, ages, lines, or numbers, which
we know to be always in our power, and if it was ab¬
solutely infinite before, here is one more than infinite.
If it only becomes infinite now, then one finite added
to another finite makes infinity. If it be no larger af¬
ter
H.p. VIII. METAP
0i Unity ter the addition than it was before, then one part
jEter- added to another adds nothing*, all Avhich are absurdi-
: tv. jjeS- The same will appear, if we subtract a part from
this supposed absolute infinite, which may be done m
any of the forementioned subjects, as well as in every
thing which admits of parts, or may be taken in pieces
by the mind.”
To this kind of reasoning Dr Clarke replies as fol-
T) isual lows : “ To endeavour to prove that there cannot pos-
re to the gibly be any such thing as infinite time or space, from
fo 3ing t}je impossibility of an addition of finite parts ever com-
tc imS posing or exhausting an infinite ; or from the imagi-
^ U nary inequality of the number of years, days^ and hours,
that would be contained in the one 5 or of the miles,
yards, and feet, that would be contained in the other,
is supposing infinites to be made up of numbers of
finites ; that is, it is supposing finite quantities to be
aliquot or constituent parts of infinite, when indeed they
are not so, but do all equally, whether great or small,
Whether many or few, bear the very same proportion
to an infinite, as mathematical points do to a line, or
lines to a superficies, or as moments do to time, that
is, none at all. No given number or quantity can be
any aliquot or constituent part of infinite, or be compa¬
red at all with it, or bear any kind of proportion to it,
or be the foundation of any argument in any question
concerning it.”
If it be indeed true, and it is that for which we
contend, that no given number or quantity can be any
aliquot or constituent part of infinite, or be compa¬
red at all with it ; then it undeniably follows, not that
miles, yards, and feet, are no constituent parts of spa c t
or years, days, and hours constituent parts of time j
but that space and time cannot possibly be positive in¬
finites. This, we say, follows undeniably : for no¬
thing is more evident, than that all quantities of the
same kind, from the largest to the least, bear a certain
proportion to each other; and upon the supposition
that space is a real extending thing, miles, yards, and
feet are included in it, and bear to it the relation of
parts to a whole. The same is true of time, days,
and hours. To affirm (for no proof is oftered), that
all finite quantities, whether great or small, whether
many or few, do equally bear the very same proportion
to an infinite, as mathematical points do to a line, or as
in moments do to time, is plainly to beg the question-—
j e a pe- “ that space considered as a real extended thing is
1 infinite ;” and to beg it, too, in opposition to the com¬
mon sense and reason of mankind. Mathematical points
we all know to be nothing real, but merely negations
of extension but supposing space to be something real
and extended, can any man persuade himSelf that a mile
or a million of miles of this space is likewise a mere
negation of extension ? With him who can bring him¬
self to this persuasion, we pretend not to argue. He is
possessed of faculties, whether true or false, of which we
are destitute.
That finite quantities, whether great or small, do
all equally bear the same proportion to an infinite in
' power, is indeed true but it is no great discovery : for
such an infinite, as we have seen, is nothing but the
continued possibility of repeating the same mental pro¬
cess of addition or multiplication 5 and he who can go
on for ever adding, in his own imagination, foot to
foot, or hour to hour, will find it equally easy to add,
H Y S I C S. 643
in the same manner, league to league, or age to age. Of Infinity
If he can perform the one operation, he must like- an<l kter-
wise have power to perform the other ; and he cannot nity' .
but perceive that it is as impossible to come to an end,
of adding league to league, or age to age, as of add¬
ing foot to foot, or hour to hour j but then he must
know that these leagues, feet, ages, and hours, are not
real external things, but mere ideas and notions ift his
mind. If sucli powers of ideal multiplication and ad¬
dition be what Dr Clarke means by the ideas of space
and time, it is indeed a contradiction to suppose either
of them limited ; for that is to suppose our porvers
different from what avc know them to be by conscious¬
ness and experience. But to confound powers Avith the
objects of those powers, is certainly very inaccurate; and
to suppose, because avc can go on for ever adding one
portion of ideal space or time to another, that therefore
our ideas of space and time are in themselves positively
infinite, is a contradiction : for to an idea positively
infinite, it is obvious that nothing can be added. Ei¬
ther, therefore, space and time do not impress us Avith
the ideas of their positive infinity ; or we cannot have
the poAver of adding league to league, and age to age,
without end.
“ But (says the doctor) to suppose space removed,
destroyed, or taken Avholly away, amounts to the ab¬
surd supposition of removing a thing from itself; that
is, if in your imagination you remove the Avhole of spaccy
the Avhole of space Avill still remain.” True, every
man lias ideas of space treasured up in his imagination,
which the sound of the very vvord space Avill at all
• times bring into his immediate view ; and whilst he
has such ideas, it is impossible that he should not have
them : which is all the mystery of the matter, and
amounts to nothing more than that a thing cannot be
and not be at the same instant. W hen the doctor
affirms, that if “ you annihilate any part of space, that
part Avill necessarily remain, as appears by the unmoved
situation of the rest,” avc are not certain that avc per¬
fectly understand him. A man may surely think ol
a cubical inch Avithout thinking of a foot or a yard ;
and he may suppose the inch taken away from the foot
or the yard, and these ideal quantities so much lessen¬
ed by the subtraction. But if the doctor be here
again confounding the poAvers of the mind with the
positive ideas of space, the sentence Avhen explained
Avill be seen to contain nothing to his purpose. Every
man has the povA-er of contemplating in idea millions
of miles, and millions of ages, and of adding mile to
mile, and age to age, without end ; and if he try to
deprive himself of any part of this power, or to fix
a limit to the mental process of addition, he will find
that in spite of himself his imagination Avill ramble be¬
yond the limit assigned, and that he has attempted an
impossibility. This, however, is so far from being a
proof that his ideas of space and time are positively in¬
finite, that, as we have already observed, it is a proof
of the contrary. 2I2
But (says this great man and his followers) “ spaceSpace aud
and time are the sine qua non of all other things and time are
all other ideas. The supposal of the existence of owysaidto be
thing whatever includes necessarily a presupposition of^^f aU™*
the existence of space and time ;” and, therefore, if oti,er
there be any thing infinite and eternal, space and time things; but
must likevvise be so.
4M2
To
644 M E T A P
of Inanity To every corporeal substance, and every idea of such
and Eter- substance, space and time are indeed necessary: tor
nity. every body has extension and duration } and every idea
'*^v ' of a particular body, being nothing but a secondary
perception in the imagination or memory, must have the
same relation to imaginary extension, that the object
from which it was derived has to extension which is real.
Every idea, too, which remains in the imagination
whilst a train of other ideas passes successively in view,
therefore or whilst external things are perceived to change, has
things real time. But will any man say that consciousness, our
which- have not;on 0f pGU'ei\ our acts of willing, or even tastes,
v hltevertoand smells, are extended, or that the supposal ot
space^or °their existence necessarily implies a presupposition of
the existence of space ? We acquire our ideas of ex¬
tension and space by means ot our senses of touch and
sight *, and we learn from experience, that things ex¬
ternal and extended are the causes of our sensations of
taste, sound, and smell. The effects are in our minds
closely associated with the ideas of their causes ; and
it is not perhaps easy to think of a particular sound,^
taste, or smell, without at the same time thinking of
the object by which it was first excited in the mind ;
hut had we been originally formed with the powers of
consciousness, thinking, and willing, and with no other
senses than those of tasting, smelling, and hearing, it
is obvious that we never could have had the idea of
space ; and therefore, that idea cannot possibly be ne¬
cessary to the presupposition of every thing else. To
consciousness, thinking, and willing, space is so far
from being necessary, that we cannot perceive any the
most distant relation between them. It is not more
difficult to conceive a part greater than the whole, than
it is to conceive an ell of consciousness, of thought, or of
will; nor is it in the power of any man to make space
and sweetness coalesce in his mind so as to form of the
two simple ideas one complex conception. The very
reverse is the case with respect to the objects of sight
and touch. The idea of every' thing which we see and
handle necessarily coalesces in the mind with the idea
or space, nor can we possibly separate the one from the
other; but the things which we see and handle are nei-
224. ther infinite nor capable of infinity,
to- time. With respect to time, the same observations will be
found to he just as with respect to space. Whatever
is liable to change, exists in time and cannot be eter¬
nal ; but il there be any being immutable, and who
views at once all things which to us are past, present,
and to come, the existence of that being is not com¬
mensurable with time. That such a being is possible
no man can doubt, who reflects, that if we had one
permanent, idea invariably in the mind, we should never
have acquired the notion of succession or of time ; and
that if there were actually no change in nature there
could not possibly in nature be any such thing as time.
Every man, therefore, who can conceive existence
without change, must be convinced, that “ the supposal
of the existence of any thing whatever does not neces¬
sarily include the presupposition of the existence of
time; and that there may be an eternity distinct from
time, as well as an infinity distinct from space; nay,
that nothing which is properly infinite and eternal can
possibly occupy either space or time
H Y S 1 C S. Part I
If it be asked, What kind of infinity and eternity of infmi
they are which have no relation to space and time ? and Ete
Cudwortb, treading in the footsteps of the ancients, has nity. |
long ago answered, That they are “ absolute perfection, *
and necessary existence. For (says he), infinite under-a
standing and knowledge is nothing else but perfiect know-eternity, i
ledge, which hath in it no defect or mixture of igno-'vhat tie
ranee, but knows whatsoever is knorvable. In like man-8116,
ner, infinite power is nothing else but perfiect power,
which hath in it no defect or mixture of impotency—
a power which can do every thing which is possible or
conceivable. Lastly, Infinity of duration, or eternity, is
really nothing else but perfection, as including in it ne¬
cessary existence and immutability ; so that it is a contra¬
diction to suppose such a being to have had a beginning,
to cease to be, or to suffer or be affected by any change
whatever. And because infinity is perfection, therefore
nothing which includes in its idea or essence any thing
of imperfection, as every positive idea of number, cor¬
poreal magnitude, and successive duration, evidently
docs, can be truly and properly infinite*.” * IntelkA
It must indeed be confessed, that the idea of sacccs-tual fy-
sion so insinuates itself into our usual ideas of existence,
and is so closely connected with the existence of all finite
beings, that we find it extremely difficult to ima¬
gine the eternal existence of God, any otherwise than
as an eternally continued series or succession. Our
constant conversation with material objects, and the
associations thence arising, make it almost impossible
for us to consider things abstracted from time and
space ; yet we have the evidence of experience and
consciousness, that an idea may be conceived without
relation to space and time, and that space and time
cannot be made to coalesce with some of our notions.
The same must be true with respect to infinity and
eternity; for we have seen that neither space, time,
nor any thing else which consists of parts, whether
continuous or successive, can be supposed to be posi¬
tively infinite, as the supposirion implies the most pal¬
pable contradiction. But that there may be perfect
power, perfect knowledge, and permanent invariable
existence, is so far from implying any contradiction,
that even we, whose faculties are so very narrow, can
yet make some advances towards the conception of
such perfections. Thus, every man of common un¬
derstanding knows that some things are in themselves
possible, and others impossible, to be performed by
any power. Of these possibilities and impossibilities
a philosopher knows more than an illiterate man ; and
one philosopher knows more than another. An intel¬
lect more perfect knows more of them than any man ;
and that intellect which knows them all must be abso¬
lutely perfect, and incapable of improvement, because
it knows every tiring which is to be known. The
same is true of perfect power :—hut we shall treat of
real infinity and eternity more at large when we come
to demonstrate the being and attributes of God. Afr
present it is sufficient to have shown that nothing can
be positively infinite but a being absolutely perfect;
which never was not, which can produce all things
possible and conceivable, and upon which all other
things must depend.
PART
META P H Y S I C S.
( ap. E
Mind
j eueral.
t Y '
PART III. OF MINDS AND THEIR POWERS.
H5
Of Mind
in general.
Chap. I. O/'Mind in General.
THE science of metaphysics coriiprehends every¬
thing, into the existence, nature, or causes of which any
inquiry may be made. But all things of which we have
any notion or idea may be divided into mind and body,
l6 with their various powers, qualities, and adjuncts. By
» Idi- body is meant that which is solid, extended, inert, and
s riished divisible j and its several adjuncts are space, motion,
fi body. nurnber, and time. The only mind with which we are
intimately acquainted is our own ; and we know that it
is possessed of the powers of sensation, perception, re¬
tention, consciousness, reflection, reason, and will.
These are totally different from extension, solidity, di¬
visibility, and motion ; and therefore it is proper to di¬
stinguish the being of which they are powers by another
name than that of body.
ably Of bodies there are various kinds possessing various
ls of sensible qualities \ and from analogy it is reasonable to
;ent conclude, that there may he various classes of minds
endowed with different kinds or degrees of power.
For this indeed we have stronger evidence than that of
analogy'. Brute animals evidently possess the powers
of perception and spontaneity with some degree of
consciousness 5 but as they appear not to reflect upon
their own conduct, or to have their actions influenced
by motives, their minds are inferior to ours, though
still perfectly distinct from mere extended, inert, and
divisible substances. Mind, therefore, considered with
respect to its powers, is evidently different from body
considered with respect to its qualities. This is indeed
a truth which has seldom if ever been controverted j
but it has been long and warmly disputed, Whether
mind and body be not both composed of the same first
,2g matter P
: absurd Hobbes supposed that every material atom is en-
I thesis dowed v/ith the faculty of sensation (c) ; but that for
< isbbes waRt 0f memory each sensation is momentancous, being
! jCtins instantly and wholly effaced as soon as its cause is remo¬
ved. Though this hypothesis is too absurd to require
a formal and laboured confutation, it may not be impro¬
per to observe, that, if it were true, the hairs of a man’s
head would feel extreme pain when pinched by the hot
iron of the hair-dresser ; and that the nails of his fingers
would be severely tortured when under the operation of
the knife or the rasp.
erhy- Others have supposed that each atom of matter has
' eses‘ a tendency towards sensation and perception 5 and that
when a sufficient number of these atoms are brought
together in a certain order, the united tendencies pro¬
duce the actual powers which distinguish mind from
gross body. This supposition is if possible more ab¬
surd than that of Hobbes. Sensation and perception
are of such a nature, that a mere tendency towards them
is inconceivable. A thing must either be sensible and
percipient, or insensible and inert: there is evidently
no medium. Or if we could suppose each individual
atom to have a tendency towards sensation, it would by
no means follow that a number of such atoms brought
together in any possible order would become one sen¬
tient, thinking, and active being. A number of bodies
laid upon an inclined plane have each a tendency to roll,
downwards 5 but if the declivity of the plane be not
such as that their separate tendencies may overcome
the resistance opposed to each individual body by fric¬
tion, the united tendencies of all the bodies when brought
together will not be able to overpower the resistance of
their united frictions. Just so is it with respect to sen¬
sation and perception : If the tendency of one atom can¬
not overcome one degree of inertness, the tendency of a
thousand atoms will not overcome a thousand degrees of
the same inertness. 230
We have just mentioned these absurd suppositions Only two
that our article might be complete: but it is proper 0Pimons at
to inform the reader, that, so far as we know, neither ^^bjcct.
of them has for these many years been maintained by
any philosopher of eminence either at home or abroad.
The opinions on this subject, whicli at present divide
the republic of letters, are two j and these alone are
worthy of examination. One party maintains, That
perception, memory, reason, and will, &c. are the
powers of a being which must be immaterial and indi¬
visible : The other alleges, That as we know nothing
of these powers but from our own consciousness, and
as we can trace them in ourselves to the brain and no
farther, we have no reason to suppose that they are
the powers of any substance distinct from matter. Both
parties, however,, distinguish that which in man is the
subject of thought from his external organs of sense,
and agree to call it by the name of mind; though the
one considers it as composed of the same first matter
with the dust of the ground j whilst the other believes
it to have no property whatever in common with that
matter.
Were we to adopt some of the ancient methods of
philosophizing, this important question might be soon
decided. A most respectable writer, who has labour¬
ed to restore the metaphysics of Plato and Aristotle,
hopes to confute the materialists, by laying down what
they must think arbitrary definitions of mind and mat¬
ter, and then showing that the one is not the other.
“ I*V.
(c) Scio fuisse philosophps quosdam, eosdemque viros doctos, qui corpora omnia sensu proedita esse sustinueruut:
Ncc video, sinatura sensionis in reactione sola cdllocaretur Q.UOMODO ref atari possint, Sed etsi ex reactione etiam
corporum aliorum, phantasma aliquod nasceretur; illud tamen, remoto objecto, statim cessaret. Nam nisi ad re-
tinendum motum impressum, etiam remoto objecto, apta habeant organa, ut habent animalia j ita tantum sentient,
nunquam sensisse se recordentur. Sensioni ergo, quse vulgo ita appellafur, necessario adhxret memoria aliqua..
Hobbes's Physic, cap, xxv, sect. £
6^6
Of Mind U ^ie Part3 ^ie ma*er^ 'vor^ (says )1C) ^iere
in general. 's a perpetual motion : For the celestial bodies move
—v—■■«.< constantly in one respect or another *, and all here be¬
low is in a continual vicissitude of generation and cor¬
ruption, which cannot be vMthout motion. Now, where
there is motion, there must be something that moves:
What is moved 1 call body: what moves I call mind.”
From this definition he undertakes to prove, that mind
must be immaterial. “ That there is a relation be¬
tween moving and being moved (says he) nobody can
deny ; and the relation is no other than that of action
and passion. But the nature of relation is such, that
it must necessarily be between two things at least j and
it is further necessary, that the two things related
should exist together. Hence, if there be that which
moves, there must be a different thing that is moved;
and wherever the one is, the other must necessarily be j
so that nothing can move itself. This being establish¬
ed, I say that what moves must be either material or
immaterial : for the one of these being the negation
of the other, there can be no middle betwixt them •,
because a thing must necessarily be^ or not be. If then
it be immaterial, there is an end of the question : but
if it be said to be material^ then I say that it must be
moved itself before it can move any thing else j for it
is only in that way that body can move body. If
then it must be first moved itself, but cannot itself
* move itself, what is it that moves itself ? If it be an¬
swered, That it is another material mover, then I re¬
peat the same question, to which the same answer must
be given : and so we have an infinite series of material
movers, without any beginning or principle of motion.
Now this is absurd, and contradictory to this first prin¬
ciple of natural philosophy, admitted by all philoso¬
phers ancient and modern, That nothing can be produced
* Ancient without a cause *.
Metaphy- I or the immateriality of the human mind, and of
rncs. every being endowed with the powers of perception
and thoughtj the learned writer has better arguments ;
but it is upon this chiefly that he rests his persuasion,
that mind is the only mover in the universe. It is
needless to observe, that in the very definitions and
axioms upon which this reasoning is built, the thing to
be proved is taken for granted: for if it be self-evi¬
dent, that what moves is, in the author’s sense of the
word, mind, that what is moved is body, and that no¬
thing can move itself, all reasoning on the subject is su¬
perfluous. This, however, is so far from being self-
evident, that a materialist may reply, “ every animal
moves itself, and yet every animal is nothing more
than a system of matter.” This position, whether
irue or false, can neither be proved nor confuted by
arguments a priori founded on general definitions.
That animals move themselves, and that to the senses
they appear to be nothing else than systems of matter,
are facts which cannot be controverted. If we would
is.nowr whether they have in them a principle of motion
Part III
which is not material, we must submit to the laws ofor the Sur
induction (see Logic) j and by investigating the es- stance of,
sential qualities of matter, endeavour to ascertain whe-t5ie Huma
ther a material system can be rendered active. That.
we ourselves have active powers, we know by the most 2,r
complete of all evidence, viz. consciousness of their The propel
energies j and it has been already shown, that such ™ethod of
powers as we experience in ourselves cannot exist but “)Jes*j§a-
in a subject possessed of will and understanding. The^u^.
question therefore to be first decided between the ma-niind.
terialists and immaterialists is, Whether the powers of
consciousness, understanding, and will, can result from
the particular organization of a system of matter ? If
they can, we have no reason to attribute them in man
to any other source : If these powers appear necessa¬
rily to require an immaterial principle for their sup¬
port, it will probably be granted, that an immaterial
principle is the source of every power and every mo¬
tion in the universe j and the doctrine of mind, in the
strictest sense of the word, will be sufficiently esta¬
blished.
Chap. II. Of the Substance of the Human
Mind.
The most celebrated materialist of this or perhaps ^rg^inj
of any other age is Dr Priestley j who having in his for the k
own imagination divested matter of solidity, and re- materialii
duced it to mere centres of attraction and repulsion,of tlie !lu'
observes, that “ if one kind of substance be capable ofman miUl
supporting all the known properties of man j that is, if
those properties have nothing in them that is absolute¬
ly incompatible with one another; we shall be obliged
to conclude (unless we openly violate the rules of phi¬
losophizing, which wall not authorize us to multiply
causes or kinds of substance without necessity'), that no
other kind of substance enters into his composition j
the supposition being manifestly unnecessary, in order to
account for any appearance whatever.—All the pro¬
perties that have hitherto been attributed to matter,
may be comprised under those of attraction and repul¬
sion. Besides these, man is possessed of the powers of
sensation or perception, and thought. But if, without
giving the reins to our imaginations, we sufi’er ourselves
to be guided in our inquiries by the simple rules of
philosophizing above mentioned, we must necessarily
conclude, that these powers also mav belong to the
same substance that has also the properties of attrac¬
tion, repulsion, and extension (d), which I as well as
others call by the name of matter. The reason of the
conclusion is simply this, that the powers of sensation
or perception and thought, as belonging to man, have
never been found but in conjunction with a certain
organised system of matter; and therefore that those
powers necessarily exist in and depend upon such a
system. This at least must be our conclusion, till it
can be shown that these powers are incompatible with
the
metaphysic s.
mean tl ^ ^ riestley mentions the extension of corporeal substance, it must be remembered that he does not
ensi°i1 of any real thing possessed of an independent existence. The extension belongs wholly to the
reoeatedl - nnationoi spheres, of attraction and repulsion. The centre itself, which attracts and repels, he
doubt wbltE T1-?S, n0t i^Ve t^ie ^^mensi°ns even of a physical point; and he sometimes seems to entertain a
doubt whether it be any thing more than a mere relative notion.
ap. II. M E T A P
e Sub-the other known properties of the same substance j and
ice of for this I see no sort of pretence.”
tuman This is what Dr Priestley calls the proper and direct
‘n(t , proof that the sentient principle in man is the material
^ substance of the brain ; and he enforces it by the follow¬
ing observations : “ Had avc formed a judgment con¬
cerning the necessary seat of thought by the circum¬
stances that universally accompany it, Avhich is our rule
in all other cases, we could not but ha\re concluded
that in man it is a property of the nervous system, or
rather of the brain j because, as far as rve can judge,
the faculty of thinking, and a certain state of the brain,
always accompany and correspond to one another j
which is the vrerv reason Avhy Ave believe that any pro¬
perty is inherent in any substance Avhatever. There
is no instance of any man retaining the faculty of
thinking Avhen his brain was destroyed j and Avhenever
that faculty is impeded or injured, there is sufficient
reason to belie\re that the brain is disordered in pro¬
portion : and therefore Ave are necessarily led to con¬
sider the latter as the seat of the former. Moreover,
as the faculty of thinking in general ripens and comes
to maturity Avith the body, it is also observed to decay
with it} and if, in some cases, the mental faculties
continue vigorous Avhen the body in general is en¬
feebled, it is evidently because in those particular cases
the braiti is not much affected by the general cause of
Aveakness. But, on the other hand, if the brain alone
be affected, as by a bloAv on the head, by actual pres¬
sure Avithin the skull, by sleep, or by inflammation,
the mental faculties are universally affected in propor¬
tion. Likewise, As the mind is affected in consequence
of the affections of the body and brain, so the body is
liable to be reciprocally affected by the affections of
the mind, as is evident in the visible effects of all strong
passions, hope or fear, love or anger, joy or sorrow,
exultation or despair. These are certainly irrefragable
arguments, that it is properly no other than one and
the same thing that is subject to these affections, and
that they are necessarily dependent upon one another.
In fact, there is just the same reason to conclude, that
the powers of sensation and thought are the necessary
result of a particular organization, as that sound is
the necessary result of a particular concussion of the
air. For in both cases equally the one constantly ac¬
companies the other j and there is not in nature a
stronger argument for a necessary connexion of any
cause and any effect. To adopt an opinion different
from this, is to form an hypothesis Avithout a single
— fact to support it*.”
Though the ingenious author thinks, that if there
iter andhe any foundation for the established rules of philoso-
phizing, this reasoning ought to be conclusive, he yet
subjoins, for the greater satisfaction of his readers,
some additional arguments, or rather, as he says, di¬
stinct illustrations of the great argument. They are
as folloAV :
i. “ That the faculty of thinking necessarily de¬
pends, fo^ its exercise at least, upon a stock of ideas,
. about which it is always conversant, will hardly be
questioned by any person. But there is not a single
idea of which the mind is possessed but Avhat may be
proved to have come to it from the bodily senses, or to
have been consequent upon the perceptions of sense.
The notion, therefore, of the possibility of thinking in
3
H Y S I C S. 647
man, Avithout an organized body, is not only destitute of the Suh-
of all evidence from actual appearances, but is directly stance ot
contrary to them j and yet these appearances oughttlie Human
alone to guide the judgment of philosophers. ■ ' - v -- '
2. “ The only reason Avhy it has. been so earnestly
contended for, that there is some principle in man
that is not material, is, that it might subsist, and be
capable of sensation and action, Avhen the body is dead.
But if the mind Avas naturally so independent of the
body, as to be capable of subsisting by itself, and even
of appearing to more advantage, after the death of
the body ; it might be expected to discover some
signs of its independence before death, and especially
Avhen the organs of the body were obstructed, so as
to leave the soul more at liberty to exert itself j as in
a state of sleep or swooning, which must resemble the
state of death *, in Avhich it is pretended that the soul
is most of all alive, most active, and vigorous. But
judging by appearances, the reverse of all this is the
case.
3. “ If the mental principle Avas, in its OAvn nature,
immaterial and immortal, all its particular faculties
Avould be so too j Avhereas A\re see that every faculty
of the mind Avithout exception is liable to be impair¬
ed, and ev'en to become Avholly extinct, before death.
Since, therefore, all the faculties of the mind, sepa¬
rately taken, appear to be mortal, the substance or
principle in Avhich they exist must be pronounced to be
mortal too.
4. “ If the sentient principle in man be immaterial,
it can have no extension ; it can neither haA’e length,
breadth, nor thickness j and consequently every thing
within it, or properly belonging- to it, must be simple
and indivisible. Let us noAV consider hoAv this notion
agrees Avith the phenomena of sensation and ideas. It
Avill not be denied, but that sensations or ideas pro¬
perly exist in the soul, because it could not othenvise
retain them, so as to continue to perceive and think
after its separation from the body. Noav, Avhate\rer
ideas are in themselves, they are evidently produced
by external objects, and must therefore correspond to
them ; and since many of the objects or archetypes
of ideas are divisible, it necessarily folloAvs, that the
ideas themselves are divisible also. But, Iioav is it pos¬
sible that a thing (be the nature of it Avhat it may)
that is divisible, should be contained in a substance, be
the nature of it likeAvise Avhat it may, that is indivisible ?
If the archetypes of ideas have extension, the ideas
which are expressive of them, and are actually produ¬
ced by them according to certain mechanical larvs,
must have extension likeAvise : and therefore the mind
in which they exist, Avhether it be material or imma¬
terial, must have extension also. But Iioav any thing
can have extension and yet be immaterial, Avithout
coinciding with our idea of mere empty space, I know
not.”
To the argument, Avhich is here chiefly insisted on
as being agreeable to the established rules of philoso¬
phizing, a very able reply has been made, Avhich Ave
shall give in the Avords of its elegant and spirited au¬
thor. But before Ave attempt to dig up the founda¬
tion of the doctor’s system, it may not be improper
to demolish, if possible, the additional buttresses by
Avhich it is strengthened. An experienced general,
before he storm a citadel yyhich he knows to be strong¬
ly
648
Of the Sul): ly rortifietl and sil.xifuliy defended, will t,ake care to
stance of raze every less important redoubt from which the ene-
tlie Human my might annoy him in his rear.
, MimL , Because the faculty of thinking in general ripens,
^ comes to maturity, and decays with the body, and
Answered, the body on the other hand is affected by the aflcc-
tions of the mind, the doctor affirms that we have
the same reason to conclude, that the powers of sen¬
sation and thought are the necessary result of a parti¬
cular organization, as that sound is the necessary re¬
sult of a particular concussion of the air. This argu¬
ment is conclusive only upon the supposition that there
is no positive evidence whatever of the immateriality
of the being which is the subject of thought. If the
other reasonings for the materiality or immateriality
of the mind he of equal weight, this argument ought
doubtless to turn the balance j but if there he the
smallest prcponderancy in behalf of the immaterialists,
it is a mere begging of the question to attempt to
counteract it by any inference which can be drawn
from the mutual affections of the body and mind. . If
two such heterogeneous beings as an immaterial mind
and an organized body can be supposed united in one
person, they must necessarily affect each other j and
to affirm on account of this reciprocal affection, that
they are one and the same, is equally absurd as to say
that an electrician and his apparatus are one and the
same. Dr Priestley himself did not at first perform
his electrical experiments with so much ease as alter
he had acquired facility by long practice, nor could
he even yet perform them so neatly with a bad as Avith
a good apparatus.
That which the doctor calls the first illustration
of his argument might be admitted, and the force of
the argument itself be consistently denied. Some kind
of organized body may be necessary to the mind as an
instrument Avithout Avhich it could not exert its fa¬
culties but it Avould certainly be rash to infer that
the mind must therefore be a system of matter. An
anvil and a hammer are necessary to the exercise of
the blacksmith’s art; but Avdiat Avould be thought of
him who should from this fact conclude, that the
blacksmith himself must be a system of iron ! This,
therefore, instead of illustrating the great argument,
seems to be wholly foreign from the question in de-
o'd^nce ^ate ’ aT1^ ^ ^aS ^aCt ^)Cen Price*,
with Dr an^ thousands of others Avho reject the doctrine of ma-
Priestley. terialism, as an impious absurdity. The second illustra¬
tion, hoAvever, is more to the purpose j and as it is not
neAV, we shall give it an old ansAvev.
| Religion Why do not avc perceive external objects in our
of Nature slCep or in a swoon 9 “ Because (says Mr Wollaston t),
Delineated, t}ie passages are become impracticable, the windows
shut, and the nerves being obstructed, or somehoAV ren-
SICS. Part II]
dered for the time useless, can transmit no informa- OfthcSu’
tion to it. Why, however, does it not reason and stance 0:
think about something or other 9 Because, all the marks the Huma
by which things are remembered, being for the pre- *™id.
sent choked up or disordered, the remembrance of 'r'“
those objects about which it is wont to employ itself,
and even of the Avords (or other signs) in Avhich it uses
to reason, and to preserve the deductions and conclu¬
sions it makes, is all suspended at least for the time :
and so its tables being covered, its books closed, and
its tools locked up, the requisites for reasoning are
wanting, and no subject offers itself to exercise its
thoughts, it having yet had little or no opportunity
to take in higher objects and more refined matter for
contemplation. And, to conclude, if it be demand¬
ed, Why any one should imagine that the soul may
think, perceive, act, after death, when it doth not do
this in sleep, &c. ? the ansAver is, Because those enclo¬
sures and impediments Avhich occasioned the foremen-
tioned intermissions, and those great limitations under
which it labours at all times, avIII be removed AV'ith its
enlargement out of the body. When it shall in its pro¬
per vehicle be let go, and take its flight into the open
fields of heaven, it avxII then he bare to the immediate
impressions of objects: And Avhy should not those im¬
pressions AV'hich affected the nerves, that moved and
affected the vehicle and soul in it, affect the vehicle im¬
mediately when they are immediately made upon it,
Avithout the interposition of the nerves ? The hand
which feels an object at the end of a staff", may cer¬
tainly be allowed to feel the same much better by im¬
mediate contact Avithout the staff.”
The opinion, that the soul is united to some fine ve¬
hicle, Avhich dAvells Avith it in the brain, and goes off
Avith it at death, Avas not peculiar to Mr Wollaston.
It Avas thought extremely probable by Dr Hartley,
and shall he shoAvn aftcrAvards to have been a very an¬
cient opinion ; but AArc do not quote it at present as
either AVell or ill founded, but only as sufficient, in
conjunction Avith the reasoning of its author, to ob-
A’iate the force of Dr Priestley’s second illustration of
his argument for the materiality of mind, provided the
argument itself be not more poAverful than any Avhich
the immaterialists can bring against it.
The doctor’s third illustration A\re have already ob¬
viated, when we accounted for the mind and the body
mutually affecting each other j and we might refer to
Dr Px-ice’s ansAVer (e) to the fourth, as being, in our
opinion, a full confutation of it. But as that author’s
notions of mind and ideas differ in some respects from
our OAArn, avc shall examine this objection to the doctrine
of the immaterialists upon principles which avc believe
Dr Priestley more inclined to admit.
That the sentient principle in man, if it be imma¬
terial,
M E T A P H Y
(e) In Disquisitions, p. 37 and 102, it is asserted, that ideas are certainly dn isible. “ This seems to me A’ery
absurd. It Avould be as proper to assert ideas to be hard or round. The idea of an object is the apprehension j
vicav, or notion of it *, and hoAV can this he divisible ? Pei’ception is a single and indivisible act. The object per¬
ceived may be divisible j but the perception of it by the mind cannot be so, It is said in page 93, that if ideas
arc not things distinct from the mind, a mind with ideas and a mind without ideas would be the same.—I main-
Vl11' la^ .ea! are n.n^ distinct fx-om the mind, but its conceptions 5 or not things themselves, but notions of things.
qav toes it tollow from hence, that a mind Avith or without ideas is the same ? It Avould seem that this folloAA'S
much more troni the contrary assertion.” Correspondence between Dr Price and Dr Priestley.
4
{ap. n.
(Jhe Sub-terial, can Lave no extension, is a truth which we
nec <*f think cannot be controverted 5 and if so, everything
t Human in that principle must be simple and indivisible. Thus
J^n ' 1 far we agree with Dr Priestley j but with respect to
what follows we drfler from him entirely. The agi¬
tation in the brain, which is the/immediate cause of
sensation, must indeed correspond to the impression
ah extra by which it is produced, and therefore must
have the property of extension ; but that agitation,
whatever it be, is not itself sensation, any more than
a bludgeon is a blow, or a sword is a wound. Dr
Priestley, indeed, in answer to Dr Price, affirms, that,
according to Hartley’s theory, ideas are only vibia-
tions in the brain ; but whoever shall take the trouble
to examine that theory himself, will not find that its
author ever advances such an opinion, or considers
vibrations as any thing more than the instruments by
which sensations and ideas are excited in the sentient
principle. A real and proper idea, as we have often
repeated, is nothing else than a fainter sensation : but
no sensation, from whatever cause it may proceed, is it¬
self extended •, nor could w'e, without memory, the
reasoning faculty, and the power of local motion, have
acquired from mere sense any notion of extension at
all: (see sect. 3. Chap. 1. Part 1.). Sensations and ideas
are those appearances (if we may so say), which vibra¬
tions or some other motion in the brain excite, in the
mind \ but a half appearance is an absurdity. A man
may view half a tree with his eyes, and he may con¬
template the idea of half a tree in his mind } but he can¬
not have half a view or half an idea of any thing. Sen¬
sations and ideas result from the mutual agenev of the
Vol. XIII. Part II. ' t
649
brain and sentient principle upon each other •, and ifOftheSub-
the agency of the brain be vibration, more of it mav stance of
vibrate at one time than at another : but surely the
mere relation between its agency at any time and the ■ V ‘ /
agency of the mind, can neither have extension nor
be divisible ; for who ever thought of extending or
dividing relations ? On this subject it is extremely
difficult to write with perspicuity and precision 5 and
what we have said may very possibly be misunderstood.
Our notion is to ourselves clear and determinate ; but
language, which was not invented by metaphysicians,
wants words in which it may be properly expressed.
Perhaps the reader may understand what we mean,
w hen we say that a sensation or an idea is the instanta¬
neous effect of the mutual agency of the brain and
sentient principle. Of this we think every man, by
a little attention, may be perfectly convinced, though
it may be impossible ever to discover the precise na¬
ture of this agency 5 and if so, it is plain that sensa¬
tions and ideas cannot be divided, for no instantancons
effect of any kind is divisible. A sensation, and of
course a simple and original idea, neither has extension
itself, nor suggests the notion of extension ab extra.
By running the hand or any other member along a so¬
lid body, wre feel continued resistance : this feeling, or
the idea of this feeling, becomes in time so closely asso¬
ciated with all our sensations of touch and sight, that
the one cannot be separated from the other 5 and these
associations are what Dr Priestley calls extended ideas.
Upon the whole then, avc think it apparent, that our
sensations, and the relicks of our sensations, are unex¬
tended and indivisible (e) ; and that though they sug-
4 N gest
M E T A P H Y S I C S.
(f) We affirm this only of human sensations and ideas, because these are the only sensations and ideas of
which we are conscious, and about which we can reason. Other animals are sentient as well as man, and
appear to have their sensations excited by impressions ab extra; but whether in every species of ani¬
mals a single impression excites but one sensation common to the whole animal, or different sensations
which are felt each by a difl'erent faculty or sentient principle, is a question which we are not able to answer.
We make this remark, because from the phenomena of sensation in the earthworm and other reptiles, some
philosophers of eminence having supposed, that in these creatures the sentient faculty belongs to the mate¬
rial system, and is divisible with it j have thence concluded, we think rashly, that all arguments for the
Immateriality of the human mind arc founded merely on our ignorance. Vi e call this conclusion rash 5 be¬
cause, though we know perfectly what a human sensation is, wre have so little knowledge of the naturfc of
sensation in worms, that what may be true of the one principle of sensation may be false of the other. In¬
deed, if we are to judge from the phenomena, this is actually the case. It appears from experiments made
by Abbe Spallanzani and others, that if a certain number of rings be cut oil’ either from the anterior or
posterior part of a worm, or even from both, the remainder will not only continue to live and be sentient,
but will also regenerate a new head and a new tail, and become again a complete worm. Nothing like this takes
place in man or in the higher orders of animals j and therefore, were it cei'tain that the sentient principle in
the worm is diffused through the whole system, and divisible with it, we could not infer that the principle
of such sensations as we are conscious of, is likewise extended and divisible. It is, however, so far from being-
certain that the sentient principle is diffused through the whole worm, that nothing necessarily follows from
this fact, but that its seat is at some distance from either extremity. Nay, were it true, as perhaps it is,
that a worm may be so divided, as that each of the two sections shall retain life, sensation, and this repro¬
ductive power, we would not therefore be authorized to conclude that the sentient principle is one coex¬
tended and divisible writh the material system. The earthworm, like many other reptiles, being an herma¬
phrodite, which unites in itself both sexes, may possibly consist of trvo animated systems •, which though unit¬
ed by some bond of connexion, by which sensation is communicated from the one to the other, are yet in
themselves perfectly distinct. Should this, upon proper investigation, be found to be the case ; and should it
likewise be found, that when a worm is divided into three or more parts, only one or two of these parts con¬
tinue to live, there would be no room whatever for supposing that even in these creatures the principle of sen¬
sation is extended and divisible. In the mere porver of reproducing amputated parts, when that power ie
considered by itself, there is nothing more wonderful than in the growing of the nails of our fingers, or the
hairs
65(
Of the Sub¬
stance of
the Human
Mind.
* Essays,
Philosophi¬
cal, Histo¬
rical, and
Literary,
vol. ii.
M E T A P
gest to us the existence oi extended things ab extra,
the sentient being may be unextended and indivisible.
Having thus examined Dr Priestley’s auxiliary ar¬
guments for the materiality of mind, we now proceed
to consider his main and direct prool. To this, as we
have observed, so able a reply has been made, that it
would be injustice to our readers not to lay it before
them, in the words of its author. “ E readily ac¬
knowledge (says this spirited essayist*) that the power
of sensation or perception never having been found but
in conjunction with a certain oi'ganized system ol matter,
we ought, as philosophers, to conclude that this power
necessarily exists in, and results from, that organized
system, unless it can be shown to be incompatible with
other known pj’operties of the same substance. On the
other hand, it must be admitted, that constant con¬
junction implies necessaty connexions only when reasons
cannot be discovered to prove the conjunction to be ac¬
cidental and arbitrary. In the present instance, it is
alleged, that discerptibility is a property of matter ab¬
solutely incompatible with the property of sensation
H Y S I C S. PartHI
or perception ; or in othel words, that sensation is a Of the Sul]
power or property incapable of division. But as the stance ofl
power of the entire system is clearly nothing more than1*16 Huma
the sum or aggregate of the powers of all the parts, it,
necessarily follows, that the primary particles of which 2-4
the system is composed must, upon the material hypo- Direct
thesis, possess distinct powers of sensation*, and that Pro2f that.
those powers combined constitute the indivisible powersent'e||
of sensation belonging to the system*, or, in other|,ian
words, that the indivisible power of sensation is a divi- be asysteil
sible power, nay, an infinitely divisible power, if mat-°f matter.
ter be, as philosophers in general allow, an infinitely
divisible substance—a conclusion obviously and grossly
ridiculous. We are then compelled to acknowledge,
that sensation or perception is not the property of a
material substance *, i. e. if the common mode of ex¬
pression be retained, it is the property of an immaterial
substance ; or, to avoid verbal contention, it is a property
not resulting from, or necessarily connected with, the
organical system, but a property wholly foreign, super¬
induced, and adventitious (g).
“ In
hairs of our heads. The only thing which seems to militate against the simplicity of the principle of sen¬
sation in worms, is the continuance of life, &c. with both parts of a worm when cut into two by a knife or
pair of scissars *, but if a worm be found to have two seats of sensation analogous to the brain in higher ani¬
mals, and if it be likewise found that life continues only in such sections as retain at least one seat of sensa¬
tion, the sentient principle in the worm may be as simple and indivisible as in any animal whatever. We nei¬
ther wish nor expect much stress to be laid upon these hints and conjectures. Should they induce any of our
physiological readers, who have leisure, and are at the same time skilled in philosophy, properly so called, to
institute a set of experiments upon worms and such reptiles, and to trace apparent eflects to their higher
causes, they might eventually lead to important discoveries. In the mean time, it is sufficient for our purpose
to observe, that whatever be the sentient principle or principles in the earthworm, it is obvious that the whole
animal cannot in any case be conscious, as man undoubtedly is, of one individual sensation ; and that therefore no
arguments built upon the phenomena accompanying sensation in worms, can be of any importance in the contro¬
versy about the materiality or immateriality of the human mind.
(g) This argument is not new7. It was long ago urged by Dr Clarke against Mr Dodwell ; and some of
our readers may not be ill pleased to see it stated by so masterly a reasoner : “ That the soul cannot possibly
be material, is demonstrable from the single consideration of bare sense or consciousness. For matter being a
divisible substance, consisting always of separable, nay of actually separate and distinct parts, it is plain that un¬
less it were essentially conscious, in which case every particle of matter must consist of innumerable separate
and distinct consciousnesses, no system of it, in any possible composition or division, can be an individual con¬
scious being. I or suppose three or three hundred particles of matter, at a mile or any given distance one
irom another, is it possible that all these separate parts should in that state be one individual conscious being ?
Suppose then all these particles brought together into one system, so as to touch one another, will they there-
by, or by any motion or composition whatsoever, become one whit less truly distinct beings than they ivere when
at the greatest distance ? How then can their being disposed in any possible system make them one individual
conscious being ? It you will suppose God by7 his infinite power superadding consciousness to the united particles,
yet still these particles being really and necessarily as distinct beings as ever, cannot be themselves the subject in
which that individual consciousness inheres •, but the consciousness can only be superadded by the addition of some-
thing, which in all the particles must still itself be but one individual being. The soul, therefore, whose power
ot thinking is undeniably one individual consciousness, cannot possibly be a material substance.” Clarke's Letter
to Mr Dodwell, 2d edition.
T-hat the same mode of reasoning was known to the ancients, Cudworth has shown by numerous quotations ;
and as an argument certainly loses nothing by antiquity, or by having occurred to thinking men in distant
ages, we shall lay before our readers two passages from Plotinus, of which the extract from Clarke’s letter
t lough we are persuaded it was not borrowed by the author) must be considered as little more than a para-
pinastica trans ation. ti toivm (Pyaovtrtv, 01 t»i» ^vp^tiv <s-uy.ec aval Zsyavhf, tt^oIov ysv ttiqi Ixots-Tov yigov?
■jl, iv tm ccviu ruyctlt, ttoti^ov sxsccrrflv ipvfflv, ctct irlt y.cti tj aAj) ; x.at Tsa'htv rev yi^ow; to y^og } ago, to yyyidog rvvs-
XA.. 0 tyi ovcrioi avjrig xaljoi iduyi Trotrcv Tivog ovlog' ct'h'hoo x.cu oXov Tio'hXotyy, otti^ o-uyeon tioiquvou advvxlev, iv TiXuoai to
* «Aov ivxt, xtci To yi^og 0 to oXov, vTia^yfiiv' ev atxiflov tuv yipwv, 00 ^yitovtiv. e| x-yvyluv "^vvs) xojoig vTrxghin
* V. Lib. vn. Cap. 5.
^ ie same argument is elsewhere stated thus : £< voarlov ty^ot, y.xi w x^yoii' it yvickvo; xvluv e^ovlog v <rv-
l p1 "i^Cap 2 ^ ‘t’dvycdoy rvytpopqny o-uyxrMv £a»jv i^yctfy.rQeii, xxi vow yivvxf tcc xvotflce. £n. I .
mp. II. METAP
J he Sub- u I11 opposition to tills reasoning, the materialists
nee of affirm, that entire systems may possess, ami they think
t Human themselves warranted to pronounce that organized sys-
limt terns of matter actually do possess, powers essentially
v different from those which inhere in the several parts.
Amongst various familiar though striking illustrations
of this truth, it has been said, that a rose possesses the
property of sweetness or fragrance, a globe the pro¬
perty of sphericity, a harpsichord the property or
power of producing harmony, aqua regia the property
of dissolving gold, &.c. though the component parti¬
cles of these different organized systems are themselves
totally destitute of the powers and properties here enu¬
merated.
“ The immaterialists, in reply, assert, that it is not
only false in fact, but a direct contradiction, and an
absolute impossibility in the nature of things, that a
system should possess any property which does not
inhere in its component parts. To assert that the
power of the whole is the sum or aggregate of the
powers of all the parts, is an identical and self-evident
proposition, the whole and all the parts being terms
precisely synonymous. Whoever, therefore, calls in
question the truth of this axiom, must maintain that
the power of the whole is something different fi’om the
power of all the parts, i. e. that the power of the whole
is not the power of the whole.
“ It will be easy to demonstrate the correspondence
of facts with this plain and simple theory. For this
purpose, it is necessary to observe, that the properties
of matter, or what are generally denominated such,
may be divided into real and nominal, which Locke
and others have called primary and secondary qualities.
Figure, magnitude, and motion, are qualities really in¬
herent in matter j but figure, magnitude, and motion,
eternally varied, can produce only different combina¬
tions of figure, magnitude, and motion. There are
also powers, or qualities, vulgarly considered as inhe¬
rent properties of matter organically disposed, which
are really and truly qualities or affections of the men¬
tal or percipient principle, and have no existence when
not perceived. Thus the sweetness or fragrance of the
rose, considered as mere sweetness and fragrance, can
be nothing but an affection ol the mind j considered as
a quality of the rose, they can mean nothing more than
a certain arrangement, configuration, and motion of
parts, which in some inexplicable manner produces the
sensation of sweetness. In this instance, therefore, the
power of the whole is plainly the aggregate of the
powers residing in the parts, by the motion and or¬
ganization of which a certain effect is produced upon a
foreign and percipient substance.
“ But a globe, we are told, possesses the property of
sphericity, though not a single particle amongst that in¬
finite number of which the globe is constituted is itself
of a spherical form. The fallacy of this illustration is,
however, as easily demonstrable as that of the former.
The sphericity of a globe is evidently the sum or aggre¬
gate of the curvilinear or convex parts which compose
• its surface \ and the property of the whole is neither
more nor less than the combined properties of all its
parts. No one doubts, that by new compositions or
arrangement of material particles possessing magnitude,
figure, and motion, an endless diversity of phenomena
may be produced, to which it may be necessary to apply
H Y S I C S.
65*
new names. New names, however, do not constitute oftlie Sub-
new properties j and though we give to a globe the stance of
appellation of an entire system, and ascribe to it the ”van
property of sphericity, we know at the same time that, ‘ ^ ;
it is really nothing more than a collection of thousands
of millions of particles, actually separate and distinct,
arranged in that particular form which we denominate
spherical. But this can never be regarded as in the
remotest manner analogous to the creation ol the power
of perception, in consequence of a certain organical
arrangement or disposition of impercipient particles.
Though sphericity is, indeed, the property of the entire
sphere, yet every part of the sphere, if divided, possesses
its share of sphericity. But if the percipient principle
be divided, what would become of the power of percep¬
tion ? A sphere equally divided becomes two hemi¬
spheres j l)oes a perception, when divided in like man¬
ner, become two demi-perceptions ?
“ The same reasonings may easily be transferred, and
applied to the harpsichord. Can any one be absurd
enough to affirm that the power ot harmony resides in
the harpsichord, as the power of perception does in the
mind ? After the utmost skill of the artificer has been
exerted, we discover nothing more in the harpsichord
than new modifications of the old properties of figure,
magnitude, and motion, by means ot which certain
vibrations are communicated to the air, which, convey¬
ed by the medium of the auditory nerves to the sen-
sorium, produce the sensation of harmonic sounds.
These new modifications are therefore attended, indeed,
with new and very wonderful effects ; but then those
effects are produced upon, and are themselves modifica¬
tions of, the sentient or percipient faculty. And though
it is wholly incomprehensible to us in what manner
these effects, that is, these sensations, are produced,
we well know, and perfectly comprehend, that they are
not new powers belonging to any organized system of
matter j that they have no existence but in a mind
perceiving them •, and that they are far from militating
against that grand and universal axiom, that the power
of the whole is nothing more than the united powers ot
all the parts.
“ As to the last instance adduced, of the power of
aqua regia to dissolve gold, though neither the spirit of
salt, nor the spirit of nitre of which it is compounded,
separately possesses that power, it is plain, that from
the union of these twTo substances, certain new modes
of configuration and motion result j and the solution
of gold is the consequence of this new arrangement
and motion of the parts. But the particles ot which
the menstruum is composed were always possessed ol
the properties of figure and motion j and what is styl¬
ed a new property, is clearly nothing more than a
new effect of the old properties differently modified.
In a word, the advocates for materialism may safely
be challenged to produce, in the whole compass ol na¬
ture, a case which bears the least analogy to that which
these instances are most unphilosophically adduced to
prove and to illustrate. It is an absurdity w hich tran-
substantiation itself does not exceed, to maintain that
a whole is' in reality any thing different from its com¬
ponent parts : and all nature rises up in confutation of
an assertion so monstrous and extravagant. To affirm
that perception can arise from any combination of im¬
percipient particles, is as truly ridiculous, as to affirm
4 N 2 that
rialists
shown
652 M E T A P
Of the Sub-that a comhinution of the seven primary colours wit h
stance of tjie four c:.rthqal virtues may constitute a planet. It is
thcMIi^uc|lianequivalent to an assertion, that an epic poem might be
< composed of parallelograms, cones, and triangles. In
a word, it is an absurdity not less real, and a little less
obvious, than that of the blind man who thought that
the idea of a scarlet colour resembled the sound of a
trumpet.”
If matter be taken in the common acceptation, to
be a solid, extended, and inert substance, this reasoning
for the immateriality of the sentient principle in man
appears to us to have the force of demonstration,
which no difficulties or partial objections, arising from
Reply by GUr inability to conceive the baud of union between
the mate- two such heterogeneous substances as mind and body,
can ever weaken, and far less overturn. But the mo¬
dern materialists deny that matter is either solid or
inert. “ All those facts (say they) which led philo¬
sophers to suppose that matter is impenetrable to other
matter, later and more accurate observations have
shown to be owing to something else than solidity and
impenetrability, viz., a po wer of repulsion, which for
that reason they would substitute in its place. The
property of attraction or repulsion (says Dr Priestley)
appears to me not to be properly what is imparted to
matter, but what really makes it to be what it is ; inso¬
much, that without it, it would be nothing at all ;
and as other philosophers have said,—‘ Take away
solidity, and matter vanishes,’ so I say, ‘ Take away at¬
traction and repulsion, and matter vanishes.” If this
be admitted, tbe ingenious author hopes that we shall
not consider matter with that contempt and disgust with
which it has generally been treated, there being no¬
thing in its real nature that can justify such sentiments
respecting it.
We know not why, upon any hypothesis, mat¬
ter should be viewed with contempt and disgust.—
Whether penetrable or impenetrable, every consistent
tlieist considers it as one of the creatures of God, per¬
fectly fitted to answer all the purposes for which it was
intended: but were it really destitute of solidity, and
endowed with the powers of attraction and repulsion,
we should still be obliged to consider it as incapable of
the powers of sensation and thought. If we have any
notion at all of what is meant by centres of attraction
and repulsion (of which indeed we are far from beino-
confident), it appears to us to be intuitively certain^
that nothing can be the result of any possible combina¬
tion of such centres, but new and more enlarged spheres
of attraction and repulsion. But surely consciousness
sensation, and will, are as different from attraction and
repulsion, as a cube is from the sound of a trumpet, or
as the sensations of a felon in the agonies of death are
from the attraction of the rope by which he is hanged.
It this be admitted, and we are persuaded it will be
den .ed by no man whose understanding is not clouded
by an undue attachment to paradoxes, the sentient prin¬
ciple cannot possibly be matter j for if, when the powers
of attraction and repulsion are taken away, matter vani¬
shes ; and if consciousness and sensation are not attrac¬
tion and repulsion 5 it is not more evident that three
and two are not nine, than that the substance which at¬
tracts and repels cannot be that which is conscious and
percipient.
Locke, who was certainly no materialist, as he re-
236
to be ab¬
surd
J:I Y S I C S. Part II
peatedly affirmed, and indeed demonstrated, that of the Su
thought could never he the result of any combinations stance o|
of figure, magnitude, and motion, was yet of opinion,^ ^mi
that God by his almighty power might endow some .
systems of matter with the faculties of thinking
and willing. It is always with reluctance that we Locke's J
controvert the opinions of so great a man ; and it is PhdonliaJ
with some degree of horror that we venture in any j
case to call in question the power of Omnipotence.—
But Omnipotence itself cannot work contradictions ;
and it appears to us nothing short of a contradiction,
to suppose the individual power of perception inhe¬
ring in a system which is itself extended and made up
of a number of separate and distinct substances. For
let us suppose such a system to be six feet long, three
feet broad, and tivo feet deep (and we may as well sup¬
pose a system of these dimensions to be percipient, as
one that is smaller) then it is plain, that every idea
must be extended, and that part of it must be in one
place, and part in another. If so, the idea of a square
inch will be six feet long, three feet broad, and two
feet deep; and what is still harder to be digest¬
ed, the several parts of this idea will be at a great
distance from each other, without any bond of union
among them. The being which apprehends one ex¬
tremity of the idea, is, by the supposition, six feet di¬
stant from the being which apprehends the other ex¬
tremity ; and though these two distinct beings belong
to one system, they are not only separable, but actually
separated from each other as all the particles of matter
are. What is it then that apprehends as one the
whole of this extended idea ? Part of it may be appre¬
hended by one particle of matter, and part of it by ano¬
ther \ and there is nothing which apprehends or can
apprehend, the whole. Perhaps it will be said, the
power of apprehension is not divided into parts, but
is the power of the one system, and therefore appre¬
hends at once the whole idea. But a power or facul¬
ty cannot he separated from its subject, power which
inheres in nothing being confessedly impossible; and
a material system is not one subject in which any indi¬
vidual power or faculty can inhere. There must,
therefore, be united to the system some one being,
which is the subject of thought, and which is unex¬
tended as well as indivisible. This, we say, follows
undeniably. For, let us suppose, that an extended
being without separate parts is possible, and that
such a being is percipient; it is obvious, that the
whole of any one of its perceptions could not be in one
place. Now, though we should grant to Dr Priest¬
ley and other materialists, that every idea of an ex¬
tended substance has itself three dimensions, and is in¬
corporated and commensurate with the whole perci¬
pient system; what, upon this supposition, shall we
think of consciousness and of the perception of truth?
Is consciousness or truth extended ? If so, one side or
superficies of consciousness, or of a truth, may be greater
or less than another, above or below, to the right or
to the left j and it will be very proper and philosophi¬
cal to speak of the length, breadth, and depth, of con¬
sciousness or of truth. But surely to talk of the
place or the extension of these things, is as absurd
as to talk of the colour of sound, or the sound of
a triangle j and we might as well say, that consci¬
ousness is green or red, as that it is an ell or an inch
(lap.
l.e Sub-long j an^ that truth is blue, as that it has three
Ice of dimensions.
jjJluman This reasoning is somewhat differently stated by
|in<b Cudworth ; who observes, that if the soul be an ex-
u " tended substance, “ it must of necessity be either a
1^ ise the physical point (i. e. the least extension possible, if tliere^
5f entbe-be any such least extension), or else it must consist ot
jplannot more suth physical points joined together. As for
b( tenl- t,ie foriner 0f these, it is impossible that one single atom,
or smallest point of extension, should be able to perceive
distinctly all the variety of things, i. e. take notice of
all the distinct and different parts of an extended object,
and have a description or delineation of the whole of
them upon itself (for that would be to make it the
least, and not the least, possible extension at the same
' time : Besides, to suppose every soul to be but one
physical point, or the smallest possible extension, is to
suppose such an essential difference in matter or exten¬
sion, as that some of the points thereof should be natu¬
rally devoid of all life, sense, and understanding; and
others again, naturally sensitive and rational. And
even should this absurdity be admitted, it would yet
be utterly inconceivable how there should be one, and
but one, sensitive and rational atom in every man ; how
653
this atom of so small dimension-, should actuate the Of the Sub-
whole system j and how it should constantly remain stance ot
the same from infancy to old age, whilst all the otherthy^an
parts of the system transpire perpetually, and are sue-
ceeded by new matter (h).
“ But if, according to the second hypothesis, souls
be extended substances consisting of many points one
without another, and all concurring in every sensa¬
tion •, then must every one of these points perceive
either a point only of the object, or else the whole.
Now, if every point of the extended soul perceives only
a point of the object, then there is no one thing in us
that perceives the whole, or that can compare one part
of the object with another. On the other hand, if
every point of the extended soul perceive the ichole ob¬
ject at once, then would there be innumerable percep¬
tions of the same object in every sensation •, as many,
indeed, as there are points in the extended soul.—
And from both these suppositions it would alike follow,
that no man is one single percipient or person, but that
in every man there are innumerable distinct percipients
or persons', a conclusion directly contrary to the infal¬
lible evidence of consciousness (x).’1
Cogent as these arguments for the immateriality
of
M E T A PHYSICS.
(Hb Should it be said, that this essential difference between the atoms of matter is not fortuitous } that some ot
them are created intelligent for the express purpose of animating systems of others which are unintelligent :■ and
that these intelligent atoms do not operate upon the systems with which they are united, by the vis imrtue, soli¬
dity, ov extension, of matter, but by the energies of understanding and will: Should this (we say) be alleged,
surely it may be asked, for what purpose they are conceived to have the quality ol extension . It is evidently ot
no use; and it has been already shown, and shall be more lully shown afterwards, that by our notions ot consci¬
ousness and understanding, we are so far from being led to suppose the subject ot these powers extended, that we
cannot suppose anv relation whatever between them and extension. But if these intelligent atoms be divested of
their quality of extension, they will be transformed from matter to mind, and become the very things tor the ex¬
istence of which we plead. , . . . ^ 1 1 1 v
(1) As the materialists endeavour to prejudice the public against the notion of an unextended soul, by re¬
presenting it as a fiction of DesCartes, altogether unknown to the ancients, it may not be improper to give
our readers an opportunity of judging for themselves how far this representation is just.— / Minus, reasoning
about the nature of the soul from its energies of sensation, expresses lnmselt in these words : pOJ.u
uMxnrtcu rms, h xvlo uvui, kxi xvlu nxvU xfltXxp.ZxnrOxi w0A**v xMikpc, r* urtolx, „
TTOMXI TTiPl h 7T0I0T/ITYIS XXI $1 ho? TTOniXoi, 016V TT^lTUXOr 6V yX£ xXXo [XiV £iVOi xXXo Si 0tptxXfXl4V, XXXx TXvloV 0p6U TTXvIuVi
Kxt u ro Uiv h ouuxrm to h ^ xxon, iv n ^ uvxi i oh t^x rxvlx, p u; to xvlo ofcov txv.
u^Tiuv iXdov Totv. “ That which perceives in us, must of necessity be one thing, and by one and the same
indivisible perceive all j and that whether they be more things entering through several organs ot sense,
as the many qualities of one substance, or one various and multiform thing, entering through the same
organ as the countenance and picture of a man. For it is not one thing in us that perceives the nose, and
another thing the eyes •, but it is one and the self-same thing that perceiveth all. And when one thing enters
through the eyes, another through the ears, both these also must of necessity come at last to one indivisible;
otherwise they could not be compared together, nor one of them he affirmed to be different from the ot ier,
the several ideas of them meeting nowhere in one place.” Pursuing the same argument, and having observed,
that if what perceiveth in us be extended, then one of these three things must of necessity be affirmed, that either
every part of this extended soul perceives a part only of the object, or every part of it the whole object j
or else, that all comes to some one point, which alone perceives both the several parts of the object and the
whole \ he observes of the first of these suppositions,—piyiSu ovh tov]u, gvfifttpgoflo xv ufi xXXo xXXov foi^o?, xxt
mhvx hum hXov too xirfalov xfhx^iv s^v rag xv u lyco piv xXXov' <rv h xXXovxMoto : “ If the soul be a magni¬
tude, tlien must it be divided, together with the sensible object, so that one part ot the soul must perceive one part
of the object, and another another j and nothing in it, the whole sensible 5 just as I should have the sense of
one thing, and you of another.” Of the second supposition he writes in tins manner : « dt oT,om xxvlcS x^nlxr
us ^Jhx'eJdxi tov piyiOovc mVvxolos xxuoov, xx, xMr^ xx? ixxrlov xurtklov rvpMxi ytyvirtx, uxw ouv tov xvlov
xwovs ev to) iyt/xovovvli hfcm uxovx, : “ But if every part of the extended soul perceive the whole sensible object,
since magnitude is infinitely divisible, there must be m every man infinite sensations and images of one object.
-—And as for the third and last part of this disjunction, Plotinus by asserting the infinite divisibility of body, here
shows that the supposition of any one physical point is in itself an absurdity. But if it were not, he agrees with
M E T A P
Ot'the Sub of the sentient principle appear to be, they have been
0 5 -]-
lately treated with the most sovereign contempt by a
writer who professes to be a disciple ot Dr Priestley s,
* Tracts
T't Ideal,
Theologi¬
cal, and
Political,
vol. i.
staiu'c of
the Human writer who professes
AlintL bnt who seems not to have learned the modesty or the
* candour of his master. Dr Priestley labours to prove,
that to account for the phenomena of perception and
volition, &c. it is not necessary to suppose an immaterial
principle in man. Mr Cooper with greater boldness
affirms, and undertakes to demonstrate with all the
parade of mathematical precision*, that such a principle
hi impossible. Though the authority of this philosopher
in such inquiries as depend not immediately upon the
retort and the furnace, is certainly not great, he yet
utters his dogmas with such confidence, that it may
not be improper to examine the chief arguments upon
2-q which they rest.
An attempt “ Suppose (says he) the soul to have no common
to prove property with matter ; then, no thing can act upon
the imposisi- any otiier but by means of some common property,
immaterial Of this we have not only all the proof that induction
substance, of known and acknowledged cases can furnish, but
that additional proof also which arises from the impos¬
sibility of conceiving how the opposite proposition ca/i
be true. But by the supposition, the soul has no
property in common with matter 5 ami therefore the
soul cannot act upon matter. But by the supposition
of every system of immaterialism (except those of
Malebranche, Berkeley, and Leibnitz), it is deemed
an essential property of the soul, that it acts upon the
body, or upon matter *, therefore the soul can and
cannot act upon matter at the same time, and in the
same respect. Bnt this is a contradiction in terms 5
and as two contradictions cannot both be true at the
same time, the supposition of the existence of an im¬
material soul cannot be true; that is, the soul does not
exist.”
This reasoning, the reader will observe, is carried
on with all the pomp of mode and figure. The pro¬
positions hang upon each other like the several steps
of an algebraic process : but as in such processes one
error unwarily admitted produces a falt?e result, so in
demonstrative reasonings one unsound argument admit¬
ted into the premises is necessarily productive of error
in the conclusion. When the author affirms, ‘‘ that
no thing can act upon any other but by means of some
common property,” he affirms without the shadow of
proof what is certainly not self-evident. He says, in¬
deed, that of this we have all the proof that induc¬
tion of known and acknowledged cases can furnish ;
but unless consciousness be calculated to deceive us,
this is unquestionably a mistake. Matter, he repeat¬
edly affirms, has no other properties than those of at¬
traction and repulsion : but a man moves his arm by
a mere energy of will } and therefore, according to
this demonstrator, an energy of will must be either
> material attraction or material repulsion. If so, it is
reasonable to conclude, that when a man draws his
hand towards his head, the centre of his brain exerts
its power of attraction ; and that when he extends his
240
shown to
be futile.
H Y S I C S. Part III
arm at full length before him, the same centre exerts or the Sul
its power of repulsion. We beg pardon of our readers stance of
for detaining them one moment upon such absurdities as Hunui
Mind.
these: yet wre cannot dismiss the argument without ta¬
king the liberty to ask our all-knowing author, How it
conies to pass that the same centre sometimes attracts
and sometimes repels the same substance at the same
distance} nay, that it both attracts and repels substan¬
ces of the same kind, at equal distances, and at the
very same instant of time ? This must be the case,
when a man puts one hand to his head, and thrusts
another from him; and therefore, if these operations
be the effect of attraction and repulsion, it must be
of attraction and repulsion to which induction of known
and acknowledged cases furnishes nothing similar or
analogous, i. e. of such attraction and repulsion as, ac¬
cording to Mr Cooper’s mode of reasoning, does not
exist. The truth is, that we are not more certain that
we ourselves exist, than that an energy of will is nei¬
ther attraction nor repulsion j and therefore, unless
all matter be endued with will, it is undeniable, that,
whatever be the substance of the soul, one thing acts
upon another by a property not common to them both.
In what tnanner it thus acts, wre pretend not to know:
but our ignorance of the manner of any operation is no
argument against the reality of the operation itself,
wdien wre have for it the evidence of consciousness and
daily experience; and when the author shall have ex¬
plained to general satisfaction how material centres at¬
tract and repel each other at a distance, wre shall under¬
take to explain how one thing acts upon another with
which it has no common properties.
Suspicious, as it should seem, that this reasoning has^ second
not the complete force of mathematical demonstration,‘lttem')t
the author supports las opinion by other arguments,
“ Whatever we know (says he), we know by means
of its properties, nor do we in any case whatever cer¬
tainly know any thing but these j and wre infer in all
cases the existence of any thing which rve suppose to
exist from the existence of its properties. In short,
our idea of any thing is made up of a combination of
our ideas of its properties. Gold is heavy, ductile,
tenacious, opaque, yellow, soluble in aqua regia, &c.
Now, let any one suppose for an instant that gold is
deprived of all these, and becomes neither heavy, duc¬
tile, tenacious, opaque, yellow, soluble, &c. what re¬
mains, will it be gold? Certainly not. If it have other
properties, it is another substance. It it have no pro¬
perties remaining, it is nothing. For nothing is that
which hath no properties. Therefore, if any thing
lose all its properties, it becomes nothing j that is, it
loses its existence. Now, the existence of the soul is
inferred, like, the existence of every thing else, from its
supposed properties, which are the phenomena of
thinking, such as perception, recollection, judgment,
and volition. But in all cases of perfect sleep, of the
operation of a strong narcotic, of apoplexy, of swmon-
ing, of drowning where the vital powers are not ex¬
tinguished, of the effects of a violent blow on the
241
back
Aristotle in asking 5r«s xw to —thereby plainly indicating, that the sentient principle is totally se¬
parated from extension, and can neither be considered as extended like a superficies or solid, nor unextended as a
physical point.
c i[>. ir. M E T A P
jL^.back part of the head, and all other leipothymic aftec-
st :e of tions, there is neither perception, recollection, judge-
t]lf umanmeat, nor volition*, that is, all the properties ot the
pd- soul are gone, are extinguished. Therefore, the soul
^ 1 itself loses its existence for the time. If any man shall
say, that these properties are only suspended for the
time, I would desire him to examine what idea he an¬
nexes to this suspension; whether it be not neither
more nor less than that they are made not to exist for the
time. Either no moi*e is meant, or it is contradictory
to matter of fact *, and moreover, if more be meant, it
may easily be perceived to involve the archetypal exist¬
ence of abstract ideas, and to contradict the axiom im-
possibile est idem esse et non esse.”
sh j, t0 For the benefit of short-sighted inquirers, it is to be
k ually wished that the author had favoured the public with
w • this proof which might have been so easily brought $
for we can discern no connexion whatever between
the suspension of the exercise of the powers of the
mind, and the archetypal existence of abstract ideas,
or the absurd proposition that it is possible for the same
thing to be and not to be. We think, however, that we
understand enough of this reasoning which he has given
ns to be able to pronounce with some confidence that
it is nothing to the purpose, lor, in the first place,
We beg leave to observe, that between the properties
of gold and the powers of thinking, &c. there is no
similarity ; and that what may be true when affirmed
of the one, may be false when affirmed ot the other.
The powers of the mind are all more or less active *,
the enumerated properties of gold are all passive. We
know by the most complete ot all evidence, that the
exercise of power may be suspended, and the power it¬
self remain unimpaired ; but to talk of the suspension
of the energies of what was never energetic, if it be
not to contradict the axiom impossibileest idem esse et non
esse, is certainly to employ words which have no mean¬
ing. Yet even this argument from the properties of
goTd might have led the author to suspect that some¬
thing else may be meant by the suspension of the ex¬
ercise of powers, than that those powers are made not to
exist for the time. In a room perfectly dark gold is not
yellow ; but does it lose any of its essential properties,
and become a different substance, merely by being car¬
ried from light to darkness ? Is a man while in a dark
room deprived ot the faculty of sight, and one of the
powers of his mind made not to exist for the time ?
The author will not affirm that either of these events
takes place. He will tell us that gold exhibits not its
yellow appearance, merely because the proper medium
of light passes not from it to the eye of the percipi¬
ent, and that it is only for want of the same medium
that nothing is seen by us in perfect darkness. Here,
then, by his own confession, is a power of the mind,
and a property of an external object, both suspended
in. their energies, without being annihilated} and no
proof has yet been brought that all the powers of the
mind may "not in the same manner be suspended in
their energies without being made not to exist. As
light is necessary to vision, but is not itself either the
thing which sees or the thing which is seen, so may
the brain be necessary to the phenomena of thinking,
without being either that which thinks, or that which
is thought upon *. and as actual vision ceases when light
is withdrawn, though the eye and the object both con-
H Y S I C S. 655
tinue to exist*, so may the energy of thinking cease of the Sub-
when the brain is rendered unfit for its usual office, stance of
though the being which thinks, and the power of
thought, continue to exist, and to exist unimpaired. 1
That this is actually the case every man must be con¬
vinced who believes that in thinking he exerts the
same powers to-day that he exerted yesterday *, and
therefore our author’s second demonstration of the
nonexistence of mind is, like his first, founded upon
assertions which cannot be granted. 2 ^
Another of these pretended demonstrations is as a third at*
follows : “ If the soul exist at all, it must exist some-tempt of
where*, for it is impossible to frame to one’s sell antilesame
idea of any thing existing, which exists nowhere.*111'1
But if the soul exist somewhere, by the terms it oc¬
cupies space, and therefore is extended ; but whatever
has extension, has figure in consequence thereof. The
soul then, if it exist, hath the properties of extension
and figure in common with matter. Moreover, by the
supposition of every immaterial hypothesis (except
those of Malebranche, Berkeley, and Leibnitz), it
acts upon body, i. e. upon matter j that is, it attracts
and repels, and is attracted and repelled, for there is
no conceivable aflection of matter but what is founded
on its properties ot attraction and repulsion ; and it
it be attracted and repelled, its reaction must be at¬
traction and repulsion. The soul then has the pro¬
perties of extension, figure, attraction and repulsion,
or solidity. But these comprise every property which
matter, as such, has ever been supposed to possess.
Therefore the soul is matter, or material. But by
the supposition it is immaterial; therefore it does not
exist. For nothing can exist whose existence implies
a contradiction.”
Mr Cooper, we see, still proceeds in the direct roadsll0Wnto
of mathematical demonstration } but in the present in-COnfute it-
stanee we beg leave to stop him in the very beginning self,
of his course, and to ask where the universe exists ?
When he shall have given such an answer to this ques¬
tion as men of common sense may he able to compre¬
hend, we may perhaps attempt to tell liim where an
unextended soul exists. If this demonstration be not
a collection of words without meaning, the existence
of space as a real thing is taken for granted. Space,
therefore, has extension, and of course figure ; but
ive believe Mr Cooper will find some difficulty in ascer¬
taining the figure of infinite space. The mind certainly
acts upon body. For this we have the evidence of
consciousness and experience but we have no evidence
whatever that it must therefore attract and repel, and
he attracted and repelled. It has been already ob¬
served, that the mind, whatever he its substance, acts
upon the body by energies of will. \Miat these are
every man knows with the utmost certainty and preci¬
sion ; whilst we may venture to assert, that no man
knows precisely what corpuscular attraction and repul¬
sion are, supposing the existence of such powers to he
possible. When we speak of attraction and repulsion,
we have some obscure notion of bodies acting upon
each other at a distance *, and this is all that we know
of the matter. But when we think of an energy of
the human will, the idea of distance neither enters nor
can enter into our notion of such an energy. These
are facts which we pretend not to prove by a mathe¬
matical or a chemical process. Every man must be
' convinced
656
METAPHYSICS.
Of the Sub-convinced of their truth by evidence more complete
stance of than any proof, viz. immediate consciousness of his
the Human Q^vn thoughts and volitions. This hemg the case, ive
. Mind' , may turn Mr Cooper’s artillery against himself, and
because mind acts upon body by powers different from
attraction and repulsion, argue that body neither at¬
tracts nor repels ; and were it true, as it is certainly
false, that no thing could act upon another but by
means of some property common to both, we might in¬
fer that every atom of matter is endowed with the
powers of volition and intelligence, and by consequence
that every man is not one but ten thousand conscious
beings, a conclusion which our philosopher seems not
inclined to admit.
Objections Having finished his demonstrations, the author states
to the doc- other objections to the doctrine of immaterialism
materialism as are not Ids own nor new, have greater
•stated and weight. “ It appears no more than reasonable (says
answered, he), that if the doctrine of materialism be rejected as
inadequate to explain the phenomena, these latter should
at least be explained in some manner or other better
upon the substituted than the rejected hypothesis } so that
it is reasonable to require of an immaterialist that his
supposition of a distinct soul should explain the ra¬
tionale of the phenomena of thinking. But, strange
to say, so far from attempting to explain these phe¬
nomena on the immaterial hypothesis, it is acknow¬
ledged on all hands that even on this hypothesis the
phenomena are inexplicable.” This objection it would
certainly be no difficult task to obviate j but from that
trouble, small as it is, we are happily exempted by
the objector. “ I would have it understood (says he),
that no materialist ever undertook to say how percep¬
tion results from our organization. What a materi¬
alist undertakes to assert is, that perception, whatever
it be, or however it results from, does actually result
from our organization.” According to Mr Cooper,
then, the rationale of thinking is equally inexplicable
by materialists and immaterialists 5 and the truth is,
that we know the rationale of hardly any one operation
in nature. We see that the stroke of a racket produces
motion in a billiard ball; but how it does so, we be¬
lieve no man can say. Of the fact, however, we are
certain ; and know that the motion is produced by
some power, about the effects of which we can rea¬
son with precision. In like manner we know with the
utmost certainty, that we ourselves have the powers of
perception and volition 5 and that these powers cannot
be conceived as either an ell or an inch long. How
they result from the mutual agency of an immaterial
and material substance upon each other, we are in¬
deed profoundly ignorant 3 but that such is the fact,
and that they are not the result of mere organization5
we must necessarily believe, so long as it is true that
the power of the entire system is nothing more than
the sum or aggregate of the powers of all its parts.
The immaterial hypothesis contains in it something
inexplicable by man : The material hypothesis like¬
wise contains, by the confession of its advocates some¬
thing that is equally inexplicable 3 and is over and
above burdened with this contradiction, that the whole
is something different from all its parts. It is there-
tore no “ singular phenomenon in literary history
that one hypothesis should be rejected as inadequate
*o account for appearances, and that the hypothesis
Part HI,
substituted should, even by the acknowledgment ofofthes
its abettors, be such as not only not to explain the stance of
rationale of the appearances, but from the nature ofllle Humai
it, to preclude all hopes of such an explanation.” M'nd.
This is exactly the ease with respect to a vacuum in
astronomy. That hypothesis does not in the least
tend to explain the rationale of the motions of the
planets 3 but yet it must be admitted in preference to a
plenum, because upon this last hypothesis motion is im¬
possible.
“ Supposing the existence of the soul, it is an un-^ j^
fortunate circumstance (says Mr Cooper), that weasmany1
cannot properly assert positively any thing of it at dungs may
all.” Were this the case, it would indeed be a very1)0 ais6ei't-
unfortunate circumstance 3 hut can we not assert no-^ ,of t}le
t .1 • c 1 „ A. soul as of
sitively jis many things of the soul as we can of thethe bodv!
body P Can we not say with as much propriety and
certainty, that the soul has the powers of perception
and volition, &c. as that the body is solid and extend¬
ed, or as that matter has the powers of attraction
and repulsion P We know perfectly what perception
and volition are, though we cannot have ideas or men¬
tal images of them 3 and if cur author knew-s what
attraction and repulsion are, we believe he will not
pretend to have of them ideas entirely abstracted from
their objects. “ But granting the soul’s existence, it
may be asked (says he), Of what use is an hypothesis
of which no more can be asserted than its existence ?”
We have just observed that much more can be asserted
of the soul than its existence, viz. that it is something
of which perception and w ill are properties 3 and lie
himself asserts nothing of matter but that it is some¬
thing of which attraction and repulsion are propex--
ties.
“ This soul, of which these gentlemen (the imma-
terialists) are conscious, is immaterial essentially. Now
1 deny (says our author), that w'e can have any idea
at all oi a substance purely immaterial.” He else¬
where says, that nothing can exist which is not extend
ed, or that extension is inseparable from our notions
ri king the word idea in its proper
of existence. Tak
sense, to denote that appearance which external ob¬
jects make in the imagination, it is certainly true that
Ave can have no idea of an immaterial substance 5 but
neither have we, in that sense, any idea of matter ab¬
stracted from its qualities. Has Mr Cooper any idea
of that which attracts and repels, or of attraction and
repulsion, abstracted from their objects ? He may per¬
haps, have, though w7e have not, very adequate ideas of
bodies acting upon each other at a distance 3 but as he
takes the liberty to substitute assertions for arguments,
we beg leave in our turn to assert, that those ideas nei¬
ther are, nor can be, more clear and adequate than our
notion of perception, consciousness, and will, united in
one being.
That extension is no otherwise inseparable from cur Extension
notions of existence than by the power of an early andI10t insePa
perpetual association, is evident from this circumstance,rablc |101'
’ r ’ ’all notion*
that, had we never possessed the senses of sight and
of txist-
touch, we never could have acquired any idea at all of cnee,
extension. No man, who has thought on the subject,
will venture to affirm, that it is absolutely impossible
for an intelligent being to exist with no other senses
than those of smell, taste, and hearing. Now it is ob¬
vious that such a being must acquire some notion of ex-
' istence
c ip. II. metaphysics.
Oi eSub- istence from his own consciousness : but into that notion
ce of extension could not possibly enteP ; for neither sounds,
lb [unian tastes, smells, nor consciousness, are extended 5 and it is
. a fundamental article of the materialists creed, that all
11 our ideas are relicks of sensation. Since then existence
may be conceived without extension, it may be inferred
that they are not inseparable from each other ; and since
Cogitation cannot be conceived with extension, we may
reasonably conclude, that the being which thinks is not
extended.
Mr Cooper indeed, with his master, talks of extend¬
ed ideas and extended thoughts: but we must assert, in
the words of Cudworth, that “ we cannot conceive a
thought to be of such a certain length, breadth, and
thickness, measurable by incites, feet, and yards; that we
cannot conceive the half, or third, or twentieth part of
a. thought; and that we cannot conceive every thought
to be of some determinate/igwrr, such as round or angu¬
lar, spherical, cubical, cylindrical, ox the like. Where¬
as if extension were inseparable from existence, thoughts
must either be mere nonentities, or extended into length,
breadth, and thickness; and consequently all truths in
us (being nothing but complex thoughts) must be long,
broad, and thick, and of some determinate figure. The
same must likewise be affirmed of volitions, appetites,
and passions, and of all other things belonging to cogi¬
tative beings j such as knowledge and ignorance, wis¬
dom and folly, virtue and vice, &C. that these are ei¬
ther all of them absolute nonentities, or else extended in¬
to three dimensions, and measurable not only by inches
and feet, but also by solid measures, such as pints and
quarts* But if this be absurd, and if these things belong¬
ing to soul and mind (though doubtless as great realities
at least as tfie things which belong to body) be unex¬
tended, then must the substances of souls or minds be
themselves unextended, according to that of Plotinus,
vav? ov 'btxrlcts xtp Ixvtcej, and therefore the human soul
cannot be material.”
1 t the Mr Cooper employs many other arguments to prove
1 an the materiality of the sentient principle in man j but
1 1 can- £}ie force 0f them extends no farther than to make it
[ ^lties i11 the highest degree probable, that the mind cannot
l in u_ exert its faculties but in union with some organized
1 with corporeal system. This is an opinion which we feel
fficor- not ourselves inclined to controvert $ and therefore we
I aanys" s*ia^ not ma^c any particular remarks upon that part
I an pro- °f our author’s reasonings. That an immaterial and
l|cand indiscerptible being, such as the soul, is not liable to
be dissolved with the body, is a fact which cannot be
controverted : for what has no parts can perish only
by annihilation; and of annihilation the annals of the
world afford no instance. That an immaterial being,
endowed with the powers of perception and volition,
&c. may be capable of exerting these powers in a state
of separation from all body, and that at least one im¬
material Being does actually so exert them, or other
powers analogous to them, are truths which no man
whose arrogance does not surpass his judgment will ven¬
ture to deny 5 but the question at present between the
• most rigid immaterialists and their opponents, is, whe¬
ther there be ground to think that the human soul is
such a being ?
Now, when Mr Baxter and his followers confident¬
ly affirm, that human perception must necessarily subsist
after the dissolution of the present mortal and perishable
Vol. XIII. Part II.
657
system; and that the soul, when disencumbered ofQftheSub-
all body, will have its faculties greatly enlarged; they s- •nice of
affirm what to us appears incapable of proof. That^^.^11111
a disembodied soul may perceive, and think, and ■ f ,«
act, and that its powers of intellection may have a
wider range than when they were circumscribed by a
corporeal system, which permitted their action upon
external objects only through five organs of sense, is
certainly possible; and the argument by which the ma¬
terialists pretend to prove it not possible, is one of the
most contemptible sophisms that ever disgraced the
page of philosophy. To affirm, that because our in¬
tellectual powers, in their embodied state, seem to de¬
cay with the system to which they are united, the
mind, when set free, must therefore have no such
powers at all, is equally absurd as to say, that because
a man shut up in a room which has but one windorv
sees objects less and less distinctly as the glass becomes
more and more dimmed, he must in the open air be
deprived of the power of vision. But because the hu¬
man soul may, for any thing that we see to the con-
traty, subsist, and think, and act, in a separate state,
it does not therefore necessarily follow that it will do
so ; and every thing that we know of its nature and
its energies leads us to think, that without some kind
of body by which to act as by an instrument, all its
powers would continue dormant. There is not the sha¬
dow of a reason to suppose that it existed and was con¬
scious in a prior state ; and as its memory at present,
unquestionably depends upon the state of the brain,
there is all the evidence of which the case wTill admit,
that if it should subsist in a future state divested of all
body, though it might be endowed with new and en¬
larged powers of perception, it could have no recollec¬
tion of w hat it did and suffered in this world, and there¬
fore would not be a fit object either of reward or of
punishment. This consideration has compelled many
thinking men, both Pagans and Christians, to suppose
that at death the soul carries with it a fine material
vehicle, which is its immediate sensorium in this world,
and continues to be the seat of its recollection in the
next. Such, as wre have seen, was the opinion of Mr
Wollaston and Dr Hartley; it was likewise the opinion
of Cudworth and Locke, who held that the Supreme
Being alone is the only mind wholly separated from
matter; and it is an opinion which even Dr Clarke,
one of the ablest advocates for immaterialism, would not
venture positively to deny. 240
Nor is this opinion peculiar to a few moderns. Cud-ancient,
worth, after giving a vast number of quotations from
Pythagoreans and Platonists, which prove to a demon¬
stration that they held the Deity to be the only mind
which perceives and acts without the instrumentali¬
ty of matter, observes, “ from what hath been said,
it appeared), that the most ancient assertors of the
incorporeity and immortality of the human soul, yet
supposed it to be always conjoined with some body.”
Thus Hierocles plainly : heyatn ovmx rvpQvif igovtrx
crapet. evla tov 'fjviptov^yov £<5 to uvcti TragyMlei/, a;
pr,Tt to a-apx uvea «v]»v, priTi anv trupdloi' xe%v piv
uo-upoLToi, Tovrixt Si iif <ro>pu, to oAov CiV%; ilSot;.
The rational nature having always a kindred body, so
proceeded from the demiurgus, as that neither itself is
body, nor yet can it be without body ; but though itself
be incorporeal, yet its whole form is terminated in a
+ 4 0 body.
658
Of the Sub- body. Agreeably to tliis the definition which he gives
stance of of a man is, hoyucn p’lct c-vpQovs xSxvcitov raftotlof,
the Human a rational soul, together with a kindred immortal body;
Milld' and he affirms, that our present animated terrestrial
v body, or mortal man, is nothing but ei^wAav uvi^Trov,
the 'image of the true man, or an accession from which
it may be separated. Neither does he affirm this only
of human souls, but also of all other rational beings
whatsoever below the Supreme Deity, that they always
naturally actuate some body. W herefore a demon or
angel (which by Hierocles are used as synonymous
words), is also defined by him after the same manner,
ty'VYii Aflyixii gila (pcJjit’jov trcugitjos, a rational soul, together
with a lucid body. And accordingly Proclus upon Pla¬
to's Timams ajjirmeth, 7t«vt« hctigwa ruv r.y.Hi^av tegiflevee
’tpiifttvv, xx( voegxv oy/igx xitkgicv: That
.every demon, superior to human souls, hath both an intel¬
lectual soul and an ethereal vehicle, the entireness thereof
bang made up or compounded of these two things. So
that there is hardly any other difl’erence between de¬
mons or angels, and men, according to these philoso¬
phers, but only this, that the former are lapsable into
aerial bodies only, and no further; but the latter into
terrestrial also. Now, Hieroclcs positively affirms this
to have been the true cabala, and genuine doctrine of
the ancient Pythagoreans, entertained afterwards by
Plato: v-ou tovt» toiv nv&etyi>fua)v doy/xei, e eSs TlXxreov
vtrhgtv X7ritxct<rx$ ^vvetpu vircTrli^ov
fjsvyoys T£ Kca hvio^ov j Trcttrxv foiou/ re xcti wQ^aTnyyiv ipv^v.
And this teas the doctrine of the Pythagoreans, which
Plato afterwards declared; he resembling every both
human and divine soul (i. e. in our modern language,
every created rational being) to a winged chariot, and a
driver or charioteer both together: meaning by the cha¬
riot, an animated body; and by the charioteer, the in¬
corporeal soul actuating it.
That this Pythagorean opinion of the Deity’s being
the only mind which thinks and acts without material
organs was very generally received by the ancient
Christians, might be proved by a thousand quotations :
W e shall content ourselves with producing two from
the learned Origen. “ Solius Dei (saith this philosophic
father of the church), id est, Patris, Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti, naturae id proprium est, ut sine materiali
substantia, et absque ulla corporese adjectionis societate,
*; PnfAr~ intelligatur subsistere “ Materialem substantiam
C °n 1 ' I" opinione quidem et intellectu solum separari, a naturis
rationalibus, et pro ipsis, vel post ipsas affectam videri;
sed nunquam sine ipsaeas vel vixisse, vel vivere : Solius
namque Trinitatis incorporea vita existere putabiturf.”
Should Mr Cooper and his friends ask, What is the use
of a soul which cannot act without the instrumentality
of matter ? or why we should suppose the existence of
such a substance ? we beg leave, in our turn, to ask
these gentlemen, What is the use of a brain which
cannot see without eyes P and why they should suppose
all our sensations to terminate in such an internal
system, since the vulgar certainly suppose their sensations
to subsist in their respective organs P Hr w this ancient
notion, which makes body so essential a part of man, is
consistent with the immortality of the human soul, we
shall inquire in a subsequent chapter j in which we
shall endeavour to ascertain what kind of immortality
we have reason to expect, and upon what.evidence our
METAPHYSICS. Part II]
expectation must rest. Previous to this inquiry, how-Qfperson,
ever, it is necessary to enter upon another, which is of Identity
the first importance, and which every materialist has' v~—
endeavoured to perplex ; we mean that which concerns
personal identity: for if, as has been often said, no man
is the same person two days successively, it is of no
importance to us whether the soul be mortal or im¬
mortal.
cap. 6.
f Lib. 2.
cap. 2.
Chap. III. 0/Personal Identity.
2^0 !
Whether we are to live in a future state, as it is Personal
the most important question which can possibly" be ldeu%> i
asked, so it is the most intelligible one which can be
expressed in language. Yet strange perplexities have
been raised about the meaning of that identity or same¬
ness of person, which is implied in the notion of our liv¬
ing now and hereafter, or indeed in any two successive
moments j and the solution of these difficulties hath
been stranger than the difficulties themselves. To re¬
peat all that has been said on the subject would swell
this chapter to a disproportionate hulk. We shall there¬
fore content ourselves with laying before our readers
the sentiments of Bishop Butler, and the fancies and
demonstrations of the philosopher of Manchester. We
are induced to adopt this course, because we think the
illustrious bishop of Durham has exhausted the subject,
by stating fairly the opinions which he controverts, and
by establishing his own upon a foundation which cannot
be shaken, and which are certainly not injured, by the
objections of Mr Cooper. 2<;i
“ When it is asked (says this philosophical prelate*) though it
in what personal identity consists ? the answer should be ,H
the same as if it were asked in what consists similitude 11tlj I
or equality?—that all attempts to define would butsto0dand
perplex it. Yet there is no difficulty at all in ascer-ascertab
taining the idea or notion : For as, upon two triangles by consci
being compared or viewed together, there arises toousnetsa!
the mind the notion of similitude j or, upon twice two* Dissert
and four, the notion of equality: so likewise, upont/ora uf,
comparing the consciousness of one’s self or one’s own subjoined
existence in any two moments, there as immediately ^4”“^
arises to the mind the notion of personal identity.
And as the two former comparisons not only give us
the notions of similitude and equality, hut also show us
that two triangles are similar, and that twice two and
four are equal ; so the latter comparison not only gives
us the notion of personal identity, but also shows us the
identity of ourselves in these two moments—the
present, suppose, and that immediately past, or the
present and that a month, a year, or twenty years past.
In other words, by reflecting upon that which is myself
now, and that which was myself twenty years ago,
I discern they are not two, hut one and the same
Se^‘ 2 2 I
“ But though consciousness of what is present and^esc
remembrance of what is past do thus ascertain our per-however,!
sonal identity to ourselves j yet, to say that remem-do not
brance makes personal identity, or is necessary to ourn]ttk®r,el
being the same persons, is to say that a person has not^y,
existed a single moment, nor done one action, but what
he can remember $ Indeed none but what he reflects
upon. And one should really think it self-evident, that
consciousness of personal identity presupposes and there¬
fore
( ap. HI. M E T A P
irsona]fore cannot constitute personal identity 5 anymore than
I itity. knowledge, in any other case, can constitute truth,
- 'r*—1 which it presupposes.
“ The inquiry, what makes vegetables the same in
the common acceptation of the word, does not appear to
have any relation to this of personal identity j because
the word some, when applied to them and to person, is
not only applied to different subjects, but is also used
in different senses. When a man swears to the same
tree, as having stood fifty years in the same place, he
means only the same as to all the purposes of property
and uses of common life, and not that the tree has been
all that time the same in the strict philosophical sense of
the word : For he does not know whether any one par¬
ticle of the present tree be the same with any one parti¬
cle of the tree which stood in the same place fifty years
ago. And if they have not one common particle of
matter they cannot be the same tree in the proper and
philosophic sense of the word sa?ne ; it being evidently
a contradiction in terms to say they are, when no part
of their substance and no one of their properties is the
same ; no part of their substance, by the supposition j
no one of their properties, because it is allowed that
the same property cannot be transferred from one sub¬
stance to another: And, therefore, when we say that
the identity or sameness of a plant consists in a con¬
tinuation of the same life, communicated under the
same organization to a number of particles of matter,
whether the same or not j the word same, when applied
to life and to organization, cannot possibly be under¬
stood to signify what it signifies in this very sentence,
when applied to matter. In a loose and popular sense,
then, the life, and the organization, and the plant, ai’e
justly said to be the same, notwithstanding the perpetual
change of the parts. But, in a strict and philosophical
manner of speech, no man, no being, no mode of being,
no any thing, can be the same with that with which it
has indeed nothing the same. Now sameness is used in
this latter sense when applied to persons. The identity
of these, therefore, cannot subsist with diversity of
! J substance.
, it it is. “ The thing here considered, and demonstratively, as
I think, determined, is proposed by Mr Locke in these
words : Whether it (i. e. the same self or person) he the
same identical substance $ And he has suggested what is
a much better answer to the question than that which
he gives it in form: For he defines a person a thinking
intelligent being, &c. and personal identity, the sameness
of a rational being ; and then the question is, W hether
the same rational being is the same substance ? which
needs no answer j because being and substance are in
this place synonymous terms. The ground of the
doubt, whether the same person be the same substance,
is said to be this, that the consciousness of our own ex-
:: II < istence in youth and in old age, or in any two joint
successive moments, is not the same individual action,
i. e. not the same consciousness, but different succesive
consciousnesses. Now it is strange that this should have
occasioned such perplexities : for it is surely conceivable
• that a person may have a capacity of knowing some
object or other to be the same now which it was when
he contemplated it formerly j yet in this case, where,
by the supposition, the object is perceived to be the
same, the perception of it in any two moments cannot
he one and the same perception. And thus, though
H Y S I C S. 659
the successive consciousnesses which we have of our of Personal
own existence are not the same, yet are they conscious- Identity,
nesses of one and the same thing or object; of the same v—
person, self, or living agent. The person of whose ex¬
istence the consciousness is felt now, and Was felt an
hour or a year ago, is discerned to be, not two persons,
but one and the same person j and therefore is one and
the same. 2C^
“ Mr Locke’s observations upon this subject appear False"no-
hasty j and he seems to profess himself dissatisfied with tions of
suppositions which he has made relating to it. ButPerso^la,
some of those hasty observations have been carried tolclc111 y
a strange length by others j whose notion, when traced
and examined to the bottom, amounts, I think, to
this: ‘ That personality is not a permanent but a
transient thing: That it lives and dies, begins and
ends, continually : That no one can any more remain
one and the same person two moments together, than
two successive moments can be one and the same mo¬
ment : That our substance is indeed continually chan¬
ging : but whether this be so or not, is, it seems,
nothing to the purpose j since it is not substance, but
consciousness alone, which constitutes personality ;
which consciousness, being successive, cannot be the
same in any two moments, nor consequently the per¬
sonality constituted by it*.” Hence it must follow, * Answer
that it is a fallacy upon ourselves to charge our present
selves writh any thing wre did, or to imagine our tJdr^Be-
sent selves interested in any thing which befel us fence of his
terday; or that our present self will be interested Letter to
in what will befal us to-morrow j since our present
self is not in reality the same with the sell of yester-^^’ ^
day, but another self or person coming in its room, ^
and mistaken for it •, to which another self will suc¬
ceed to-morrow. This, I say, must follow: for if the
self or person of to-day and that of to-morrow are not
the same, but only like persons j the person of to-day
is really no more interested in what will befal the per¬
son of to-morrow, than in what will befal any other
person. It may be thought, perhaps, that this is not
a just representation of the opinion we are speaking
of j because those who maintain it allow that a person
is the same as far back as his remembrance reaches :
And indeed they do use the words identity and same
person j nor will language permit these words to be laid
aside. But they cannot, consistently with themselves,
mean that the person is really the same : F or it is self-
evident, that the personality cannot be really the same,
if, as they expressly assert, that in which it consists is
not the same. And as, consistently with themselves,
they cannot, so I think it appears they Jo not, mean
that the person is really the same, but only that he is so
in a fictitious sense, in such a sense only as they assert:
for this they do assert, that any number of persons
whatever may be the same person. t he bare unfold¬
ing this notion, and laying it thus naked and open,
seems the best confutation of it. However, since
great stress is said to be put upon it, I add the follow¬
ing things: 255
“ First, This notion is absolutely contradictory toover-
that certain conviction, which necessarily and every mo-throvfn
ment rises within us, when we turn our thoughts upon
ourselves, when we reflect upon what is past, and look
forward to what is to come. All imagination, of a daily
change of that living agent which each man calls him-
4O2 self
66o
M E T A P
Of Personal self for another, or of any such change throughout our
Identity, whole present life, is entirely borne down by our natu -
't ral sense of things. Nor is it possible for a person in his
wits to alter his conduct with regard to his health or
affairs, from a suspicion that though he should live to¬
morrow he should not however be the same person he is
to-day.
“ Secondly, It is not an idea or abstract notion, or
quality, but a being only, which is capable of life and
action, of happiness and misery. Now all beings con¬
fessedly continue the same during the whole time of
their existence. Consider then a living being now ex¬
isting, and which has existed for any time alive : this
living being must have done, and suilered, and enjoyed,
what it has done, and suffered, and enjoyed, formerly
(this living being, I say, and not another), as really as
it does, and suffers, and enjoys, what it does, and sufiers,
and enjoys, this instant. All these successive actions,
sufferings, and enjoyments, are actions, enjoyments, and
sufferings, of the same living being j and they are so
prior to all considerations of its remembering or forget¬
ting, since remembering or forgetting can make no al¬
teration in the truth of past matter of fact. And sup¬
pose this being endued with limited powers of know¬
ledge and memory, there is no more difficulty in con¬
ceiving it to have a power of knowing itself to be the
same being which it was some time ago, of remembering
some of its actions, sufferings, and enjoyments, and for¬
getting others, than in conceiving it to know, or re¬
member, or forget, any thing else.
“ Thirdly, Every person is conscious that he is now
the same person or self he was as far back as his re¬
membrance reaches : since when any one reflects upon
a past action of his own, he is just as certain of the
person who did that action, namely himself (the per¬
son who now reflects upon it), as he is certain that the
action was at all done. Nay, very often a person’s as¬
surance of an action having been done, of w'hich he is
absolutely assured, arises wholly from the consciousness
that he himself did it: and this he, person or self,
must either be a substance or the property of some sub¬
stance. If he, if person, be a substance ; then consci¬
ousness that he is the same person, is consciousness that
he is the same substance. If the person, or he, be the
property of a substance, still consciousness that he is
the same property is as certain a proof that his sub¬
stance remains the same, as consciousness that he re¬
mains the same substance would be j since the same
propel ty cannot be transferred from one substance to
another.
“ But though we are thus certain that wre are tin
same agents, living beings, or substances, now, whiel
we were as far back as our remembrance reaches ; ye
it is asked, Whether we may not possibly be deceive!
in it P And this question may be asked at the end o
any demonstration whatever ; because it is a questioi
concerning the truth of perception by memory : ant
he w'ho can doubt whether perception by memory cai
in this case be depended upon, may doubt also whethej
perception by deduction and reasoning, which also in
elude memory, or indeed whether intuitive perceptior
itself, can be depended upon. Here then we can <r<
no farther: lor it is ridiculous to attempt to prov<
the truth of our faculties, which can no otherwise b<
4
H Y S I C S. Part III
proved than by the use or means of those suspected fa-Of Person^
culties themselves.” Identity.
This reasoning, which we believe will to most men ''■’“v---
appear unanswerable, Mr Cooper hopes to overturn by 0,.256
the following observations * : “If all imagination of a to the foe
daily change in us be borne down by our natural sense going rea-
of things, then (says he) does our natural sense ofsoning-
things positively contradict known fact j for a daily, * Tracts,
a momentaneous, change in us, i. e. in our bodies,
does actually take place.” True, a daily change in
our bodies does take place, and so likewise does a
daily change in our clothes ; but surely no man was
ever led by his natural sense of things to suppose, that
his limbs or external organs were the seats of sensation
and will, any more than that his coat or his shoes were
any real parts of his trunk or of his feet. But it is
only that which thinks and wills that any man con¬
siders in this case, as himself or his person j and if
our natural sense of things, or consciousness, tell us,
that what thinks and wills has continued the same
from a distance of time as far back as we can remem¬
ber, it is certain, that whether it be material or imma¬
terial, it has continued from that period, otherwise we
can be certain of nothing. “ But (says our philoso¬
pher) other known and ascertained facts are frequent¬
ly borne down by our natural sense of things : for how
many thousand years before the days of Copernicus was
the motion of the earth round the sun entirely borne
down by our natural sense of things, which made us
give full credit to the motion of the sun round the
earth ? Do not the generality of mankind believe, up¬
on the evidence of their natural sense of things, that
eveiy part of their body remains exactly the same to¬
day as it was yesterday ?” 2„
To the former of these questions we answer posi- Answered
tively, that before the days of Copernicus the motion
of the earth round the sun was not borne down by our
natural sense ol things, but by ill-founded hypotheses
and inconclusive reasonings. By the natural sense of
things, nothing can be meant, in this place, but the evi¬
dence of consciousness or of external sensation j but
the actual motion either of the sun or of the earth is not
perceived either by consciousness or by sensation. Of
consciousness nothing is the object but the internal
energies and feelings of our own minds ; and with re¬
gard to the motion of the sun or of the earth, nothing
is perceived by the sense of sight but that, after con¬
siderable intervals of time, these two great bodies have
repeatedly changed their places in the heavens with re¬
spect to each other. This is all that on this subject
our natural sense of things leads us to believe j and is not
this infallibly true ? Afterwards indeed, by taking for
granted the truth of proposisious, for which neither
sense nor consciousness affords the shadow of evidence j
the vulgar now, and all mankind formerly, reasoned
themselves into the opinion, that the earth stands still,
and that the sun moves round it. In vulgar philo¬
sophy it is taken for granted, that in the universe
there is not a relative but an absolute upivards and an
absolute downwards ; that our heads are absolutely up¬
ward, and our feet downward j and that were the earth
to revolve round its axis j these positions would be re¬
versed, that our heads would be placed beneath our
feet, and that we ourselves would fall from the earth
into
c tp. III. M E T A P
rsonal into empty space. Upon tliese false hypotheses the
I uity. vulgar reason correctly. They know that bodies can-
u. r~'' not change their place without motion j they know
that in the time of their remembrance the sun and
the earth have been perpetually varying their places
with respect to each other j they know that they them¬
selves have never fallen, nor had a tendency to fall,
into empty space *, and lienee they infer that it is the
sun and not the earth that moves (k). But will any
man say that the absurd suppositions from which this
conclusion is logically deduced, have the evidence ei¬
ther of sensation or of consciousness, as the permanen-
ey of that living agent which each man calls himself
has ?
To our author’s second question we likewise reply
with confidence, that the generality of mankind do
not believe, upon their natural sense of things, that
every part of their body remains exactly the same
to-day as it was yesterday. It would be strange in¬
deed if they did, after having repeatedly experienced
the waste of increased perspiration or sweating} after
having witnessed men emaciated by sickness, and again
restored to plumpness in health} and after having
perhaps lost whole limbs, which certainly their natural
sense of things teaches them to consider as parts of
their body. In all these cases, the generality of man¬
kind are as sensible of changes having taken place in
their bodies as he who has attended ever so closely to
physiological inquiries, thohgh not one of them has the
least imagination of a change having taken place in the
living agent which each man calls himself.
Bishop Butler observes, that if the living agent be
perpetually changing, it is a fallacy upon ourselves to
charge our present selves with any thing we did, to
imagine our present selves interested in any thing which
beftd us yesterday, or that our present self will be in¬
terested in what will befal us to-morrow. To this ju¬
dicious observation our daring philosopher replies,
“ that as the man of’ to-morrow, though not in all
points the same with, yet depends for his existence up¬
on, the man of to-day, there is sufficient reason to care
about him.” Could he have said that as the man of
to-day depends for his existence on the man of to¬
morrow, there is sufficient reason for the present man
to care about the future man } or that as the man of
to-morrow depends for his existence on the man of to¬
day, there is to-day sufficient reason for the future man
to care about the present man} we should in either case,
if the anachronism had been kept out of sight, have
seen the force of his argument. Every man has suffi¬
cient reason to care about the ox upon which he is to
be fed } but we cannot so clearly perceive what reason
the ox has to care about the man.
Not satisfied, it would seem, with this reply, our
author proceeds to affirm, u that the man of to-mor¬
row, possessing a reminiscence of the actions of the man
of to-day, and knowing that these actions will be re¬
ferred to him both by himself and others (which is
H Y S I C S. 66 r
certainly knowing that both himself and others are OfPersonal
most iniquitous wretches), they cannot be indifferent Identity. <
to the man of to-day, who looks forward to the pro- ’ v
perties of the man of to-morrow i. e. the remi¬
niscence and knowdedge of a future man constitute all
the relation that subsist between a present man and his
actions} a discovery worthy of an original genius.
But as on the subject of personal identity we pretend
to no originality, we shall leave this proposition to the
meditation of our readers, and take the liberty to ask
our author a question or two respecting this same re¬
miniscence, which he is graciously pleased to acknow¬
ledge for a property.
He defines identity, “ the continued existence of
any being unaltered in substance or in properties}”
and he repeatedly acknowledges that no identical qua¬
lity or property can be transferred from one subject to
another. Let us now suppose, that a man has a remi¬
niscence of an individual action performed a month
ago, and that this reminiscence is accompanied with a
consciousness that the action was performed by him¬
self. This supposition, whether true or false, may cer¬
tainly be made} for it implies nothing more than what
every man firmly believes of himself in every act of re¬
membrance. Let us again suppose, thS.t, at the di¬
stance of ten or twenty years, the man known by the
same name has a reminiscence of the same action, with
a consciousness that he himself performed it. Is this
reminiscence the same with the former ? or is it a dif¬
ferent reminiscence ? If it be the same, either the per¬
son remembering at the distance of ten or twenty years
is the same with him who remembered at the distance
of a month, or there is an identical quality transferred
from one substance to another, which is admitted to
be impossible. If reminiscence be itself a real and im¬
mediate quality of any substance, and not the mere
energy of a power, and if the one reminiscence be
different from the other, the subjects in which these
two different qualities inhere must likewise be dif¬
ferent. Yet the man who has the reminiscence at
the distance of a month, has the evidence of conscious¬
ness that the action was performed by him } and the
man who has the reminiscence at the distance of ten
or twenty years, has likewise the evidence of consci¬
ousness that the same action was performed by him
and not by another. By the confession of Hume and
of all philosophers, consciousness never deceives } but
here is the evidence of one consciousness in direct op¬
position to another} and therefore, as two contradic¬
tory propositions cannot both be true, either the one
reminiscence is the same with the other, or reminiscence
is no real quality. That one act of reminiscence should
be numerically the same with another, which followed
it at the distance of twenty years, is plainly impossible}
whence it should seem, that reminiscence itself is no
real and immediate quality of any substance. But if
this be so, what is reminiscence ? We answer, it is
plainly neither more nor less than the energy of a power,
which
(k) This inference too has been so often drawn, that it comes in time to coalesce in the mind with the
sensations, from which the motion either of the sun or of the earth is deduced with infallible certainty} and
hence it is considered as part of that, truth which sensation immediately discovers. Ue our chapter oj Assort
ATI OX.
66:
M E T A P
Of Personal which though dormant between its energies, remains
Identity, unchanged from the one to the other, and which be-
v-- Jng Jtself the real and immediate quality of a subject,
that subject must likewise remain unchanged. That
powers may remain dormant, and yet unchanged,
every man must be convinced j who having struck any
thing with his hand, knows that he has power to re¬
peat the stroke, and yet does not actually repeat it.
Two blows with the hand immediately following each
other are numerically different, so that the one can¬
not with truth be said to be the other j but we have
the evidence of external sense, that they are both struck
by the same member. In like manner, two energies of
reminiscence directed to the same object, and succeed¬
ing each other at any interval of time, cannot possibly
be one and the same energy 5 but as the latter ener¬
gy may include in it the former as well as the ob¬
ject remembered by both, we have the evidence of con¬
sciousness that both are energies of the same power 3
and we have seen, that to suppose them any thing else,
may be demonstrated to involve the grossest absurdities
and contradictions.
Mr Cooper has other arguments to obviate the
force of Bishop Burnet’s demonstration of personal
identity 3 such as, that a “ high degree of similarity
between the two succeeding men is sufficient to make
the one care about the other 3 and, that “ a good
man, knowing that a future being will be punished or
rewarded as the actions of the present man deserve,
will have a sufficient motive to do right and to ab¬
stain from wrong.” But if there be any one of our
readers who can suffer himself to be persuaded by such
assertions as these, that the living agent which he calls
himself is perpetually changing, and at the same time
that such change is consistent with the expectation of
future rewards and punishments, he would not be re¬
claimed from his error by any reasoning of ours. We
shall therefore trust such trifling with every man’s
, judgment, and proceed to examine our author’s de¬
monstration^ that personal identity has no existence.
But here it is no part of our purpose to accompany
him through his long chemical ramble, or to contro¬
vert his arguments for the nonidentity of vegetable
and animal. bodies. The only thing to which, after
Bishop Butler, wre have ascribed identity, is that which
in man is. sentient and conscious 3 and the nonidentity
of this thing, whatever it be, Mr Cooper undertakes to
demonstrate from the known properties of sensations and
ideas.
This demonstration sets out with a
258
A pretend-
very ominous
ed demon- circumstance. The author, after conducting impres-
that per- T"8 ^ from tl,e extremities of the nerves to
sonal iden- t )e ^1’a*n> ^ffirms, that sensations and ideas are nothing
tityisim- motions in the brain perceived 3” i. e. when
possible. a man thinks he is looking at a mountain, not only
at rest, but to appearance immoveable, he is grossly
deceived : for he perceives nothing all the while but
motion in his brain! Were not the desire of advancing
novelties and paradoxes invincible in some minds, we
should be astonished at finding such an assertion as
this fall from the pen of any man who had paid the
s ightest attention to the different energies of his own
intellect. Motions in the brain, as we have repeatedly
0 serve , are the immediate causes of our sensations 3
3
H Y S X C S. part TII
but is it conceivable, is it possible, that any thing Qfp
should be the cause of itself ? The motion of a sword Identity8
through the heart of a man, is the immediate cause of'’"—v-*-.
that man’s death 3 but is the sword or its motion death
itself, or can they be conceived as being the sensations
of the man in the agonies of dying ? But sensations and
ideas, whatever they be, exist in succession 3 and there¬
fore, argues our demonstrator, no two sensations or
ideas can be one and the same sensation or idea. The
conclusion is logically inferred 3 but what purpose can
it possibly serve ? What purpose ! why it seems “ sensa¬
tions and ideas are the only existences whose existence
we certainly know (a charming phrase, the existence of
existences, and as original as the theory in which it
makes its appearance) 3 and, therefore, from the na¬
ture of sensations and ideas there is no such thing as
permanent identity.” Indeed ! what then, we may be
permitted to ask, is the import of the word we in this
sentence P Does it denote a series of sensations and ideas,
and does each sensation and each idea certainly know
not only itself, but ail its ancestors and all its descen¬
dants ? Unless this be admitted, we are afraid that some
other existence besides sensations and ideas must be al¬
lowed to be certainly known, and even to have some¬
thing of a permanent identity. Nay, wre think it has
been already demonstrated (see Chapter of Time), that
were there not something permanent, there could be no
time, and of course no notion of a first and last, or in¬
deed of succession, whether of sensations or ideas. And
therefore, if we have such a notion, which the author
here takes for granted, and upon which indeed his de¬
monstration rests, it follows undeniably that there is
something permanent, and that we know there is some¬
thing permanent, which observes the succession of sen¬
sations and ideas. ,59
All this, indeed, Mr Cooper in effect grants 3 for Shown to,
he is not much startled at the appearance of contra die-be
tions in his theory. “ I find (says he), by perpetually^111CB
repeated impressions which I perceive, that my hands,
body, limbs, &c. are connected, are parts of one
whole. I find, by perpetually x-epeated perceptions
also, that the sensations excited by them are constantly
similar, and constantly different from the sensations ex¬
cited by others.” He has then repeated pei'ceptions :
but how can this be possible, if he be not different
from the perceptions, and if he do not remain unchanged
while the perceptions succeed each other at greater or
less intervals of time ? A striking object passing with
rapidity before the eyes of a number of men placed be¬
side each other in a line of battle, wrould undoubtedly
excite a succession of sensations 3 but sui-ely that succes¬
sion would not take place in the mind of any individual
in the line, nor could any single man in this case say
with truth that he had repeated perceptions of the ob¬
ject. In like manner, were that which is sentient per¬
petually changing, no man could possibly say or sup¬
pose that he had repeated pei'ceptions of any thing 3
tor upon this supposition, the man of to-day would have
no more connexion with the man who bore his name
yesterday, or twenty years ago, than the man in the
line had writh the first.
Upon the whole, we cannot help thinking that Bi¬
shop Butler’s demonstration of personal identity remains
unshaken by the batteries of Mr Cooper.— ft rests, in¬
deed,
C ip-
III.
M E T A P
60
iculty
/ed.
rsonal deed, upon the solid basis of consciousness and memory j
tity- and if implicit credit he not given to the evidence of
'r“J these faculties, we cannot proceed a single step in any
inquiry whatever, nor be certain of the truth even of a
mathematical demonstration.
But as we have ourselves supposed, that to sensation,
reminiscence, and every actual energy of the mind ol
man, the instrumentality of some material system is ne¬
cessary, it may perhaps be thought incumbent on us
to show how the perpetual flux of the particles of mat¬
ter which compose the brain, as well as all the other parts
of the body, can consist with the identity of the person
who perceives, remembers, and is conscious. If this
cannot be done, our hypothesis, ancient and plausible
as it is, must be given up 5 for of personal identity it is
impossible to doubt. In this case, however, we per¬
ceive no difficulty 5 for if there be united to the brain
an immaterial being, which is the subject of sensation,
consciousness, and will, &c. it is obvious, that all the
intellectual powers which properly constitute the per¬
son, must he inherent in that being. The material sy¬
stem, therefore, can he necessary only as an instrument
to excite the energies of those powers •, and since the
powers themselves remain unchanged, why should we
suppose that their energies may not be continually ex¬
erted by successive instruments of the same kind, as
well as by one permanent instrument ? the powers of
perception and volition are not in the material system,
any more than the sensation of seeing is in the rays of
light, or the energy of the blacksmith in the hammer
with which he beats the anvil. Let us suppose a man
to keep his eye for an hour steadily fixed upon one ob¬
ject. It will not surely be denied, that if this could
be done, he would have one uninterrupted and unvaried
perception of an hour’s duration, as measured by the
clock. Yet it is certain that the rays of light which
alone could occasion that perception would be perpe¬
tually changing. In like manner, a blacksmith, whilst
he continues to heat his anvil, continues to exert the
same power whether he uses one hammer all the time,
or a different hammer at each stroke. The reason is
obvious } the eye, with all its connexions of brain and
mind in the one case, and the person of the smith in
the other, remain unchanged} and in them alone re¬
side the faculty of sensation and the power of beating,
though neither the faculty nor the power can be ex¬
erted without material instruments. But were it pos¬
sible that millions of men could in the space of an
hour take their turns in rotation with each new ray
of light, it is self-evident, that in this case, there
would be nothing permanent in sensation ; and therer
fore, there could not be one uninterrupted and unva¬
ried perception, hut millions of perceptions, during the
hour, totally distinct from and unconnected with each
other. Let us now suppose a man to fix his eye upon
an object for the space of a minute, and at the distance
of a day or a month to fix it upon the same object a se¬
cond time. He could not indeed, in this case have
one uninterrupted and unvaried perception, hut he
would be conscious of the energy of the very same fa¬
culty the second time as at the first. Whereas were
one man to view an object to-day, and another to view
the same object to-morrow, it is obvious, that he who
should be last in the succession could know nothing of
the energy of that faculty by which the object was per-
H Y S I C S. 663
ceived the first day, because there would be nothing OftheJm-
common to the two perceptions. moitahty ot
Thus then we see, that personal identity may with * e ouL
truth be predicted of a compound being, though the
material part he in a perpetual flux, provided the im¬
material part remain unchanged j and that ol such a
being only is a resurrection from the dead possible.—
For since the motions of the brain do nothing more
than excite to energy the permanent powers of the
mind, it is of no sort of consequence to that energy
whether these motions be continued by the same nu¬
merical atoms, or by a perpetual succession of atoms
arranged and combined in the very same manner. VI e
shall, therefore, be the same persons at the resurrec¬
tion as at present, whether the mind he united to a
particular system composed of any of the numberless
atoms which have in succession made parts of our pre¬
sent bodies, or to a system composed of totally dif¬
ferent atoms, provided that new system be organized
in exactly the same manner with the brain or material
vehicle, which is at present the immediate instrument
of perception. This (we say) is self-evident ; but
were the immaterial part to change with the changing
body, a resurrection of the same persons would be
plainly impossible.
Chap. IV. 0/ the Immortality of the Soul.
261
Wherever men have been in any degree civilized, T}je
and in some nations where they have been in the mosttality of the
savage state, it has been the general persuasion, that soul the ge-
the mind or soul subsists after the dissolution of the
body. The origin of this persuasion, about which tions
disputes have been raised, no Christian hesitates to
attribute to revelation. The Egyptians, from whom
the Greeks derived many of their theological and phi¬
losophical principles, appear to have taught the im¬
mortality of the soul, not as a truth discovered by the
exertions of human reason, but as a dogma derived
to them from the earliest ages by tradition. This
indeed may be confidently inferred from the charac¬
ter and conduct of their first Greek disciples. Those
early wise men who fetched their philosophy imme¬
diately from Egypt, brought it home as they found
it, in detached and independent placits. Afterwards,
when schools were formed, and when man began to
philosophize by hypothesis and system, it was eagerly
inquired upon what foundation in nature the belief of
the soul’s immortality could rest ; and this inquiry
gave rise to the various disquisitions concerning the
substance of the soul, which have continued to exer¬
cise the ingenuity of the learned to the present day.
It was clearly perceived, that if consciousness, thought,
and volition, be the result of any particular modifica¬
tion of matter and motion, the living and thinking
agent must perish with the dissolution of the system j
and it was no less evident, that if the being which
perceives, thinks, and wills, be not material, the mind
of man may subsist after the resolution of the body
into its component particles. The discovery of the
immateriality of the mind wTas therefore one step to-
wards the proof of its immortality ; and in the opinion
of many philosophers, whose hopes ought to rest on a
surer basis, it was alone a complete proof.—“ They
who hold sensitive perception in brutes (says a pious
ivi-iter'-
pre-exist¬
ence
664 v M E t; a p
Of the Im- writer *) to be an argument for the immateriality of
mortality of their souls, find themselves under the necessity of allotv-
< the Soul. ^ jng t]10Se soul3 to be immortal.”
* See the ' ^Iie philosophers of ancient Greece, however, felt
'Procedure, not themselves under any such necessity. Whatever
Extent, ' were their opinions respecting the souls of brutes, they
and Limits clearly perceived that nothing which had a beginning
llerstand~ existence C0UW be naturally immortal, whether its
ing. m ' substance were material or immaterial.—“ There never
262 was any of the ancients before Christianity (says the
The philo- accurate Cud worth), that held the soul’s future perma-
sophers of nenCy after death, who did not likewise assert its pre-
Greece be- existence ; they clearly perceiving, that if it were once
lievedlike- granted that the soul was generated, it could never be
wise in its proved but that it might be also corrupted. And,
therefore, the assertors of the soul’s immortality com¬
monly began here, first to prove its pre-existence, pro¬
ceeding thence to establish its permanency after death.
This is the method of proof used in Plato : Hu wav wui
jf wgo iv tu TUI t$U ymctxt, atrli KXl TXVtn
ufxpotlov t< toiKtv *1 'Y'vffl eivxi. Out' soul was somewhere
before it came to exist in this human for?n, and thence
it appears to be immortal, and as such rvill subsist after
death.
To give this argument for immortality any strength,
it must be taken for granted, not only that the soul
existed in a prior state, but that it existed from all
eternity ; for it is obvious, that if it had a beginning
in any state, it may have an end either in that state
or in another. Accordingly, Plato asserts in plain
terms its eternity and self-existence, which, as we learn
from Cicero, he infers from its being the principle of
motion in man. “ Quin etiam emteris, quae moventur,
hie fons, hoc principium est movendi. Principii autem
nulla est origo. Nam ex principio oriuntur omnia : ip-
sum autem nulla ex re alia nasci potest: nec enim esset
id principium, quod gigneretur aliunde f.” This, it
must be acknowledged, is very contemptible reasoning j
but the opinion which it was intended to prove was
held by all the philosophers. They were unanimous in
maintaining the substance of the soul, though not its
personality, to he eternal <5 parte ante as well as ad par-
tern post; and Cicero, where he tells us that this opi¬
nion passed from Phcrccydcs Syrus to Pythagoras, and
from Pythagoras to Plato, expresses their notion of the
soul’s duration by the word scmpitei'nus J, which, in its
original and proper sense, is applicable only to that
which has neither beginning nor end.
Indeed none of the philosophers of ancient Greece
appear to have believed a creation (see Creation) pos¬
sible : for it was a maxim universally received among
263
and abso¬
lute eter-
asitv.
t Tuscul.
lib. i.
cap. 23.
t Tuscul.
lib. i.
H Y SICS. Part uj
them, De nihilo nihil fit, in nihilutn nil posse reverti; 0f thc
that nothing can come from nonentity, or go to nonentity, mortality!
This maxim, as held by the theistical philosophers, the the Soul,
learned Cudworth labours to interpret in a sense agree-
able to our notions of the origin of the world j but the
quotations urged by himself must convince every com¬
petent reader that on 'this occasion he labours in vain.
For instance, when Aristotle writes of Parmenides and
Melissus, that avlkv ev^i <yivi<r6at tpxru ov^l <p6u(>s<r6xi rav
evhov, they say that no real entity is cither made or de¬
stroyed ; what can be his meaning, but that those phi¬
losophers taught that nothing could be either created or
annihilated P He testifies the same thing of Xenophanes
and 7-jeno, when he says that it was a fundamental prin¬
ciple of their philosophy—pn iph^urSxi ymrixi pnta ik
prihvog—that it is impossible that any thing should be
made out of nothing. And of Empedocles, when he re¬
lates UTrxflx rxvlx Kxxitvo; optXeyit «U w, ti pn ofjog
Xp^xvof ey< yivtaSxi to Ti 01 i^oXXvrtlxi xpwvtop kxi xggnK-
t»v—That he acknowledges the very same thing with
other philosophers, viz. that it is impossible that any thing
should be made out of nothing, or perish into nothing.
But it is needless to multiply quotations respecting the
opinions of single philosophers. Of all the physiologers
before himself and Plato, Aristotle says, without excep¬
tion, TTEgi Txvryg cuo'/pupovovri Tjjf eloj'Yjg 01 Trigt Qvnug, oti
To yiyiopnov tx. uv optoiv yiyvirixi xdmxTop t—'Phut they f PhyUc.
agree in this opinion, that it is impossible that any thing lib. i.
should be made out of nothing: and he calls this thc caP- 5*
common principle of naturalists j plainly intimating,
that they considered it as the greatest absurdity to sup¬
pose that any real entity in nature could either be
brought from nothing or reduced to nothing.
The author of the Intellectual System, in order, per¬
haps, to hide the impiety of this principle, endea¬
vours to persuade bis readers, that it was urged only
against the hypothesis of forms and qualities of bodies
considered as real entities, distinct from matter. But
how it could be supposed to militate against that parti¬
cular opinion, and not against the possibility of all
creation, is to us perfectly inconceivable. The father
of the school which analyzed body into matter and
form, together with by far the greater part of his fol¬
lowers, taught the eternity of both these principles (l) \
and therefore maintained, as strenuously as any atomist,
the universal maxim, Dc nihilo nihil fit. Even Plato
himself, whose doctrine of ideas is supposed to wear a
more favourable aspect than Aristotle’s forms to the
truths of revealed religion, taught the eternity of mat¬
ter i but whether as a self-existing substance, or only ’
as an emanation from the Deity, is a question which
has
™„e!nP!,TSqUC Pe^ateti'0™'"< ■» 'ulgas notum est, in hac fuissc senteatia-nec vatum esse,
XJ, i< T h“nc V'd- I ftrus Gassexdvs Physic, sect. i. lib. i. eap. 6. Jac. Thoma-
viL 'D|1?' -4' •et “ •flu'eS ita ha'1<1 dubi<i a™s«™t philosophonim veteran,. Hinc
U P,“l08°pWum de ■»«»*> ba«. »0 si prsecipua esset,
Quem sive ex nullis repetentem setnina rebus ^
atali quoque eg ere placet, semperque FUISSE,
Pt fore, principio pariter fatoque carcntem.
Ancient Metaphysils^^ ^ ^ * Intcllcctml bb. i. cap. 3. sect. 33. note 60. On this subject see also
lap. IV. METAP
)e jm. has been disputed. That he admitted no proper crea-
2 vlity of tion, may be confidently inferred from Plutarch who,
Soul, writing upon the generation of animals, according to
L t|lc doctrine laid down in the Tinueus, has the follow-
in a- passage : BeAriov etiv, riA«Tft'y< Tei'.Qoftivovs rov y.iv koit-
ftoi Vito $hov ytyonvett Xiyttv kxi u$hv’ o fin xxMire;
TAit ytyovoT&v ran xitimv tw OYSIAN xai
YAHN 8| ysyovn cv ynoftww, etAAas vircxafinw uu ru
^nfiiov^yeo m Sicifinv xai t*|<» otsmj?, km 9r§«?
if £t>y«Tev yv Tru^uir^tv' ev yx(> ex tov fiy evrej « yniiri?,
aAX’ ex tov fiy kx^u?, fir^ iKxvug i^ovro?, as oikixs xxi
4 id- Op- luxTtov, kxi xyd^tatTos J-t is therefor e bt ttir Jot us to
t »• follow Plato, and to say and sing that the world was
i n4- ma(fc by God. For as the world is the best of all works,
so is God the best of all causes. Nevertheless, the sub¬
stance or matter out of which the world was made,
was not itself made, but was always ready at hand,
and subject to the artificer, to be ordered and disposed
by him. For the making of the world teas not the pro¬
duction of it out of nothing, but out of an antecedent bad
and disorderly state, like the making of a house, gar¬
ment, or statue.
If, then, this be a fair representation of the senti¬
ments of Plato, and surely the author understood those
sentiments better than the most accomplished modern
scholar can pretend to do, nothing is more evident,
than that the founder of the academy admitted ot no
proper creation, but only taught that the matter
which had existed from eternity in a chaotic state, was
in time reduced to order by the Demiurgus or Supreme
Beinrr. And if such were the sentiments of the divine
Plato’, we cannot hesitate to adopt the opinion of the
excellent Mosheim, which the reader will probably be
pleased to have in bis own words : “ Si a Judaeis disce-
das, nescio an ullus antiquorum philosophorum mundum
negaverit seternum esse. Omnes mihi seternum proiessi
videntur esse mundum : hoc uno vero disjunguntur,
quod nonnulli ut Aristoteles, formam et materiamsxmvX
hujus orbis, alii vero, quorum princeps facile 1 lato,
materiam tantum ceternam, formam vero, h Deo com-
paratam, dixeruntt.”
irnrtKs Now, it is a fact so generally known, as not to stand
ellectualin need of being proved by quotations, that there was
-tem- not among them a single man who believed m the
existence of mind as a being more excellent than mat¬
ter, and essentially different from it, who did not hold
the superior of at'least equal antiquity with the infe¬
rior substance. So true is this, that Synesius, though
a Christian, yet having been educated in one ot the
schools of philosophy, could not, by the hopes ot a
bishopric, be induced to dissemble this sentiment : xfit-
oist.ioz.Att TV ^VMV ovr. xZivru ttate traifixTti if^oytvy vefii-0w»X‘
—I shall never be persuaded to think my soul younger
than my body. This man probably believed, upon the
authority of the scriptures, that the matter of the visi¬
ble world was created in time *, but he certainly held
with bis philosophic masters, that his own soul was
as old as any atom of it, and that it bad consequently
existed in a prior state before it animated lus present
efstp- b Those who maintained that the world was uncreated,
ed all maintained upon the same principle that their souls
ls t0.be were uncreated likewise ; and as they conceived aU bo-
nnthe°nS ^es to be formed of one first matter, so they .conceived
t mind- all souls to be either emanations from the one first Mind,
’ Vol. XIII. Part II. T
H Y S I C S. 665
or discefpted parts of it. Aristotle, tvbo distingu.shes Of tte Im-
1,etwee,, the intellectual ami seusiuve souls, says express-
lv of the former, that it “ enters from without, and is ,   ,
divine adding this reason for Ins opinion, that its
energy is not blended with that of the body—
h TOV VOW uovov 6vtx IV iTTiKrtiVXl, KXI 6ttov WX1 fiovtv OVOi
yxp xvrov TU ivtpyux xcivmu crufiuTtKy ivi^yux . As to the * VeGene-
Stoics, Cleanthes held (as Stob^us informs us t), that
“ every thing was made out of one, and would be^ ljb
ap-ain resolved into one.” But let Seneca speak for cap> 3>
them all: “ Quid est autem, cur non existimes m eof_Ec/»£.
divini aliquid existere, qui Dei PARS est ? Totum hoc, Phys.c. ao.
quo continemur, et unum est, et Dens: et socu ejus su-
mus, et membra J—Why should you not believe some-1 Epst. 9z.
thing to be divine in him, who is indeed part of God.-
That WHOLE in which we are contained is one, and
that one is God ; we being his companions and mem¬
bers. Epictetus says, The souls of men have the near¬
est relation to God, as being parts or fragments of
him, DISCERPTED and torn from his substance;
<rvvtt<pii{ reo 6iv, xti xvtov foo^ct ovrxi kxi x-xovrrxTp.xT*.
Plato writes to the very same purpose, when, without
any softening, he frequently calls the soul God, wa&part
of God. And Plutarch says, that “ Pythagoras and
Plato held the soul to be immortal -, for that, launching
out into the soul of the universe, it returns to its parent
and original—TlvQxyoqx<, m*1*>v, a?0x?1ov uvxi t*v
tfavrxv yxp it; t*v tov vrxvlo; xv*x?C“> ^ Tfl
lcivcc !I ” Plutarch declares his own opinion to be, that[| De Pla-
“ the soul is not so much the work and of
God, as a PART of him; nor is it made BY him, ]ib iv> cap.
FROM him, and OUT of him : « di ovk i^yov vn* fU- ?-
v.v, «AA« x^i W<' ouV YH’ xvXov, *AA5 AO* xvtov kx EH
yiyoviv^P But it is needless to multiply ^-§ Pk,to
tions. Cicero delivers the common sentiments of
Greek masters on this head, when he says H , A na- ]ib>
tura deorum, ut doctissimis sapientissimisque placmCj cap 4p
H\itstos animos et libatos habemus. ni again.
“ Humanus autem animus decerptus ex mente di-
VINA : cum alio nullo, nisi cum ipso Deo (si hoc fas est
dictu), comparari potest.” . . jj.5
Whilst the philosophers were thus unanimous in But^difter-
maintaining the soul to be a part of the self-existen ^ asPto
Substance, they differed in opinion, or at least expres-the modeof
sed themselves differently, as to the mode of its sepa-their Sepa.
ration from its divine parent. Cicero and the Stoics ration,
talk as if the Supreme Mind were extended and as it
the human soul were a part literally torn from that
mind, as a limb can be torn from the body. Ihe Py¬
thagoreans and Platonlsts seem to have considered all
souls as emanations from the divine Substance rather
than as parts torn from it, much in the same way as
rays of light are emanations from the sum lato, m
particular, believed in two self-existent principles, God
and matter. The former he considered as the supreme
Intelligence, incorporeal, without beginning, en , ox
change ; and distinguished it by the appellation of t.
xyxSov, the Good, Matter, as subsisting from eternity,
he considered as without any one form or quality what¬
ever, and as having a natural tendency to disorder. Of
this chaotic mass God formed a perfect world, alter the
eternal pattern in his own mind, and endowed it vuh
a soul or emanation from himself. In the language of
Plato, therefore, the universe being animated by a soul
which proceeds from God,^is called the son of
* IZnfidd ’s
Abridge¬
ment of
Jtrucker's
666 M E T A P
Of the Im- and several parts of nature, particularly the heavenly
mortality of bodies, are gods. The human soul, according to him,
the Soul. js derived by emanation from God, through the inter-
v ' vention of this soul of the world 5 and receding farther
from the first intelligence, it is inferior in perfection
to the soul of the world, though even that soul is de¬
based by some material admixture. To account more
fully for the origin and present state of human souls,
Plato supposes *, that “ when God formed the uni¬
verse, he separated from the soul of the world infe¬
rior souls, equal in number to the stars, and assigned
to each its proper celestial abode •, but that those
History of souls, (by what means, or for what reason, does not
Philosophy. appear),
were sent down to the earth into human bo¬
dies, as into sepulchres or prisons.” He ascribes to
this cause the depravity and misery to which human
nature is liable j and maintains, that it “ is only by
disengaging itself from all animal passions, and rising
above sensible objects, to the contemplation of the
world of intelligence, that the soul of man can be pre¬
pared to return to its original state.” Not inconsist¬
ently with this doctrine, our philosopher frequently
speaks of the soul of man as consisting of three parts :
or rather he seems to have thought that man has three
souls 5 the first the principle of intelligence, the se¬
cond of passion, and the third of appetite (m) ; and
to each he assigns its proper place in the human body.
But it was only the intellectual soul that he considered
as immortal.
Aristotle taught, in terms equally express, that the
human soul is a part of God, and of course that its sub¬
stance is of eternal and necessary existence. Some of
his followers, indeed, although they acknowledged two
first principles, the active and the passive, yet Ik Id, with
the Stoics, but one substance in the universe ; and to
reconcile these two contradictory propositions, they
were obliged to suppose matter to be both active and
passive. Their doctrine on this subject is thus deliver¬
ed by Cicero : “ De natura ita dicehant, ut earn divide-
rent in res duas, ut altera esset efficiens, altei'a autem
quasi huic se praebens, ea quae efficeretur aliquid. In eo
H Y S I C S. Part Dl,
quod efliceret, vim esse censebant; in eo autem quod elfi- 0f tiie j
ceretur, materiam quandam ; in UTROtlUE tamen u-mortality a
TRUMQUE. Neque enim materiam ipsam coherere po- the Soul,
tuisse, si nulla vi contineretur, neque vim sine aliqjja
materia ; nihil est enim, quod non alicubi esse coga-
tur t.” They divided nature into two things, as the first \ Academi
principles; one whereof is the efficient or artificer, t/te ram, lib, t
other that which offers itself to him for things to be made caP' 6-
out of it. In the efficient principle, they acknowledged
active force; in the passive, a certain matter ; but so,
that in each both of these were together : foras¬
much as neither the matter could cohere together unless
it were contained by some active force, nor the active
force subsist of itself without matter; because that
is nothing which may not be compelled to be somewhere.
Agreeably to this strange doctrine, Arrian, the inter¬
preter ot Epictetus, says of himself, upi uvdgoTrog,
7r*,v TTuflav, as a^cc “ I am a man (a part of the
to tvxv or universe), as an hour is part of the day.”
Aristotle himself is generally supposed to have be¬
lieved in the eternal existence of two substances, mind
and matter; but treating of the generation of animals,
he says, ivai to ttxvIi k^polr,? ug t^ottov tivx ttxvIx
fivg/is itvxi TTAYg/t CIO crvvio-TXTxi TUftius ctotuv J. f Be Gene.
In the universe there is a certain animal heat, so as thatrationeAni
after a manner all things are full of mind; wherefore maldm,
they arc quickly completed (or made complete animals) hb' caP'
when they have received a portion of that heat. This U'
heat, from which, according to Cicero |{, the Stagy rite || Tuscut.
derived all souls, has, it must be confessed, a very ma-lib. i. c. 3,
terial appearance 3 insomuch that the learned Mosheim
seems to have been doubtful whether he admitted of
any immaterial principle in man 3 but for this doubt
there appears to us to be no solid foundation. Aristotle
expiessly declares, that this heat is not fire nor any such
power, but a spirit which is in the seeds or elementary
principles of bodies; tovto ds ov tv^, ovit tmxvty, hvvxptg
iCTiv, xXRx TO ip-Tr^iRayZavopuiov iv tu cm^paTi v.ai iv tu
x fgahi Tcvtvpx §. And as the excellent person himself J Be Gene.
acknowledges (n), that Aristotle taught the existence ratione
of two principles, God and matter, not indeed subsist- Animdi-
um. lib. ii.
ingc.
'iost,’ rat',,nera’in cap!,e’sici,t !n ai'cE’ p°suit: et
.lia locavit.” Ciceronis Tusc. Q„csl. lib ; cap’io JC,S <l,’clu''11 J " »>1> pectfirc, cnpuhtattin sul.t.T pra:,:,,,-.
!>« it cannot be proved by
not reason about ^ T °J ,he The intelligent person could
nhout intelligence, or indeed about any thing; else Tim " ^ kno\v .noth,ng but passion and appetite reason
plete proof possible, that the same individo-.l 1 1 y <laestl0n at issue, therefore, furnishes the most com-
passion, and of appetite j for if thTpktonic hvnrthpsiseaC ^ Ca if 1 mse - the principle of intelligence, of
no one individual of the human race could have 1 ^ t]^U.e’ 1 iat C(>'dd never have been started, as
that the author of Ancient M^ta^ f ltS ter™' l\m^ ^ ^ worth while to mention,
of body, to the immediate agenev of mind of roof V^T’ 3111 eVe,n 116 colierence. of tlie minute particles
This fourth mind differs not from the plastic vatu S P ai,liske‘’ cvery human body with at least four minds.
better founded. That there are in our bodies U ° u^worth, and is likewise a Platonic notion apparently
is not the principle of either our intellioence 10nS- PerPetually carried on by the agency of something which
hut if those motions procmuZedS from’ 7 TT™' aPP^tes, is a fact which cannot be denied 3
ordinate mind, acting under tTe supreme but r h 1, ’ bc fr°m tUe mJnd, or from some sub-
himself. 0 SUPieme’ but wholly distinct from and independent of that which each man calls
2 C0mP0ni P101sus potest Aristoteles, qui bina rcrum separataque statuunt principia,
Deum
ip. IV. M E T A P
glielm-ing separately, but eternally linked together by the
Jility of closest union j we think it follows undeniably, that this
t Soul, heat, from which he derived all souls, must be that
u ^ ' mind which he called GW, and which he considered as
the actuating soul of the universe.
Upon these principles neither Aristotle nor the Stoics
could believe with Plato, that in the order of nature
there was first an emanation from the Supreme Mind
to animate the universe, and then through this univer¬
sal soul other emanations to animate mankind. The
; Stagyrite believed, that the Supreme Mind himself is
the soul of the world, and that human souls are imme¬
diately derived from him. The genuine Stoics, ac¬
knowledging but one substance, of necessity considered
both the souls and bodies of men as portions ol that
substance, which they called to ev *, though still they
affected to make some unintelligible distinction between
body and mind. 11 ut however the various schools dif¬
fered as to those points, they were unanimous as to the
soul’s being a part of the self-existing Substance *, and
Cicero gives their whole system from 1 acuvianus m
words which cannot be misunderstood:
Quicquid est hoc, omnia animat, format, alit, auget,
creat,
Sepelit, recipitque in sese omnia, omniunique idem
est Pater :
Indidemque eadem, quae oriuntur de integro, atque
eodem occidunt.
' m these To these verses he immediately subjoins the following
■ ciples qUery : “ Quid est igitur, cur, cum domus sit omnium
r "iain* una, eaque communis, cumque animi hominum semper
lessary6 FUER1VT, FUTURTQUE SINT, CUT ii, quid ex quoque
. tence ofeveniat, et quid quamque rem significet, perspicere non
soul; possint * ?” And upon the same principle he elsewhere
)e Divi- argues, not merely for the immortality, but for the
| W* '7 eternity and necessary, existence of the soul .. Animo-
I *P' 5 rum nulla in terris origo inveniri potest: His emm in
naturis nihil inest, quod vim memorise mentis, cogitati-
onis habeat; quod et prteterita teneat, et futura provi¬
dent, et complecti possit prscsentia} qme sola divma
sunt. Nec invenietur unquam, unde ad hominem ve¬
nire possint, nisi h Deo. Ita quicquid est illud, quod
sentit, quod sapit, quod vult, quod viget, coeleste et di-
vinum est *, OB EAMftUE REM STERNUM SIT NECESSE
: frag, de est t.” This was indeed securing the future perma-
nsola- nenCy of the soul in the most effectual manner; for it
m- is obvious, that what had not a beginning can never
have an end, but must be of eternal and necessary exist-
i t not in But when the ancients attributed a pioper eternity
distinct to t]ie sou], we must not suppose that they understood
d perso- it to be eternai in its distinct and personal existence. They
|^apa' believed that it proceeded or was discerptedm time from
the substance of God, and would in tune be again re¬
solved into that substance. This they explained by a
close vessel filled with sea water, which swimming a
while upon the ocean, does, on the vessel’s breaking, ow
H Y sics. 667
in again, and mingle with the common mass. They Of the Im-
only differed about the time of this reunion ; the niortality of
greater part holding it to be at death •, but the Pyth.a- 1tl"
goreans not till after many transmigrations. Ike Pla-
tonists went between these two opinions} and rejoined
pure and unpolluted souls immediately to the Universal
Spirit} but those which had contracted much defile- * tVarbur
ment, were sent into a succession of other bodies, to
purged and purified, before they returned to their V3-' tion.
rent substance -ztfS
A doctrine similar to this of Plato has been held A similar
from time immemorial by the Bramins in India, whose^tnne^
sacred books teach, “ I hat intellect is a portion ot prnrnjm;
the GREAT SOUR of the universe, breathed into all
creatures, to animate them for a certain time } that af¬
ter death it animates other bodies, or returns like a
drop into that unbounded ocean from which it first arose ;
that the souls of men are distinguished from those of
other animals, by being endowed with reason and with
a consciousness of right and wrong j and that the soul
of him who adheres to right as far as his powers ex¬
tend, is at death ABSORBED INTO THAT DIVINE ES¬
SENCE, never more to re-animate flesh. On the other
hand, the souls of those who do evil, are not at death
disengaged from all the elements j but are immediate¬
ly clothed with a body of fire, air, and akash (a kind
of celestial element, through which the planets move,
and which makes no resistance) in which they are for a
time punished in hell. After the season of their grief
is over, they reanimate other bodies : and when they
arrive through these transmigrations at a state ot purity, tion to
they are absorbed into God, where all PASSIONS are UT- Dow's IIis-
terly unknown, and where consciousness is lostn~
IN BLISS f.” _ . . c . 269
Whether the Greeks derived their notions ol the T],js c[oc_
divinity and transmigration of souls from the east, or trine in-
whether both they and the Bramins brought the same compatibie
doctrines at different periods from Egypt, it is foreign
from the purpose of this article to inquire. Certain it0f rcwarc]s
is, that the philosophers of Greece and India argued and punish-
in the very same manner, and upon the very same prin-nients, and
ciples, for the natural immortality ot the soul *, and
that the immortality which they taught was wholly
incompatible ivith God’s moral government of the
world, and with a future state of rewards and punish¬
ments. That this is true of the doctrine of the Bra¬
mins, is evident from the last-quoted sentence . foi if
the soul when absorbed into the Divine essence, loses
all consciousness of what it did and suffered in the
body, it cannot possibly be rewarded for its virtues
practised upon earth. That the philosophers ot Greece
taught the same cessation of consciousness, might be
inferred with the utmost certainty, even though we
had not Aristotle’s express declaration to that purpose :
For as they all believed their souls to have existed be¬
fore they were infused into their bodies, and as each
must have been conscious that he remembered nothing
of his former state (o), it was impossible to avoid con-
4 P 2 eluding,
Deum et materiam. Arctissime enim utrumque hoc initium conjunxit Stagyrita, atque ipsa naturse necessitate,
C„h""um mole hac corporea putavit.” Cnd^thH Intellectual Sys,an, Book .. Chap. iv. Sect. 6.
n0(o)*Tlris is expressly acknowledged by Cicero, though he held with his Greek masters the eternity of the souk
668
META P
Of the Im- eluding, that in tlie future state of his soul as little would
mortality ofbe remembered of the present. Accordingly Aristotle
, the Soul. teaclieg? tliat “ the agent intellect only is immortal and
eternal, but the passive corruptible,”—revlo /utvov uOxycfiov
* De Ani- ical et^tov o eti 7rci6qh>c6s mv; (p6(t£]af *. Cudworth thinks
ma, lib. iii. this a very doubtful and obscure passage j but Warbur-
cap. 6. ton, whose natural acuteness often discovered the sense
of ancient authors when it had escaped the sagacity of
abler scholars, has completely proved, that by the agent
intellect is meant the substance of the soul, and by the
passive its particular perceptions. It appears therefore
that the Stagyrite, from the common principle of the
soul’s being a part of the Divine substance, draws a con¬
clusion againstafuture state of rewardsand punishments j
which though all the philosophers (except Socrates) em-
270 braced, yet all W'ere not so forward to avow.
Grossly at- That the hypothesis of the soul’s being a part of the
surd in it- Divine substance is a gross absurdity, we surely need
not spend time in proving. The argument long ago
urged against it by St Austin must ere now have occur¬
red to every reader. In the days of that learned father
of the church, it was not wholly given up by the philo¬
sophers ; and in his excellent work of the Cihj of God,
he thus exposes its eatfmrogtmce and impiety: “Quid
xnfelicius credi potest, quam Dei partem vapulare, cum
puer vapulat ? Jam vero partes Dei fieri lascivas, ini-
quas, impias, atque omnino damnabiles, quis ferre potest
27! nisi qui prorsus insanit ?
yet the on- But though this hypothesis be in the highest degree
ly principle absurd and wholly untenable, w'e apprehend it to be the
from which onjy princip]e from which the natural or essential immor-
be^nferred1 tality of the soul can possibly be inferred. If the soul had
to be essen- a beginning it may have an end; for nothing can be more
tially im- evident than that the being which had not existence of
mortal. itself, cannot of itself have perpetuity of existence. Hu¬
man works, indeed, continue in being after the power
of the workman is withdrawn from them; but between
human works and the Divine there is this immense dif¬
ference, that the former receive from the artist nothing
but their form •, whereas the latter receive from the
Creator both their form and their substance. Forms
are nothing but modifications of substance ; and as
substances depend upon God and not upon man, human
works are continued in being by that fiat of the Crea¬
tor, which made the substances of which they are com¬
posed susceptible of difi’erent forms, and of such a nature
as to retain for a time whatever form may be impressed
upon them. Human works therefore are continued in
being by a power different from that by which they
are finished } but the works of God depend wholly
upon that power by which they were originally brought
into existence ; and were the Creator to withdraw his
272 supporting energy, the whole creation would sink into
Baxter’s ar- nothing.
gument lor Self-evident as this truth certainly is, some eminent
the mi turn lj philosophers seem to have questioned it. “ No sub-
immortali- stance or being (says Mr Baxter *) can have a natural
ty of the
soul 
* Inquiry
H Y S I C S. Part II
tendency to annihilation, or to become nothing. That Ofthek
a being which once exists should cease to exist is a mortality
real effect, and must be produced by a real cause : the Sou
But this cause could not be planted in the nature of v"""
any substance or being to become a tendency of its
nature ; for it could not be a free cause, otherwise it
must be a being itself, the subject of the attribute free¬
dom, and therefore not the property of another being ;
nor a necessary cause, for such a cause is only the effect
of something imposing that necessity, and so no cause at
alk” ... . 273
That the author’s meaning in this argument is good,Inconch
cannot, wTe think, be controverted j hut he has not ex- Slve>
pressed himself with his usual accuracy. He seems to
confound causes with the absence of causes, and the
effects of \X\c former with the consequences of the latter.
The visible world was brought into existence by the
actual energy of the power of God ; and as the visible
world had nothing of itself, it can remain in existence
only by a continuance of the same energy. This energy
therefore is at the pi'esent moment as real a cause as
it was six thousand years ago, or at any period when it
may have been first exerted } and the visible world is its
real and permanent effect. But would the ceasing of
this energy be likewise a cause ? It would certainly be
followed with the annihilation of the visible world,
just as the withdrawing of the sun-beams would be
followed with darkness on the earth. Yet as no one
has ever supposed that darkness, a nonentity, is a po¬
sitive effect of the sun or of his beams, but only a mere
negative consequence of their absence j so, we think,
no one who believes in creation can consider that
destruction which would inevitably follow the with¬
drawing of the energy by which all things are sup¬
plied, as the positive effect of a contrary energy, or as
any thing more than a negative consequence of the ceas¬
ing of that volition or energy of power by which
God at first brought things into existence. For
“ where the foundation of existence lies wholly in the
power of an infinite ^^xagproducing^c. ground of the
continuance of that existence must be wholly in the same
power conserving; which, has therefore, with as much
truth as frequency, been styled a continued crea¬
tion (p).” 274
The force of this reasoning Mr Baxter certainly saw, and in e
when he said, that “ a tendency to persevere in the^ectbg1^
same state of nature, and a tendency to change it, are ^5
contradictories, and impossible to be planted in the same
subject at once : or, not to urge the contradiction, if
the last prevailed, the remaining in the same state for
any given time would be impossible. We forget the
true cause of all these tendencies, the will of God,
which it is absurd to suppose contrary to itself. The
tendency in matter to persevere in the same state of
rest or motion, is nothing but the will of the Creator,
who preserves all things in their existence and manner
of existence: nor can we have recourse to any other
cause
Ka ure of answer sorne vei'y foolish assertions concerning the evil of death, he says, “ Ita, qui nondum nati sunt, mi-
tlu Human ser* 3am sunt’ tiuia non sunt: et nos Tsb Post mortem miseri futuri sumus, miseri fuimus antequam nati. Ego
Soul. vol. i.autem non commemini, antequam sum natus, me miserum. Tuscul. lib. i. cap. 6.
sect. 3. (p) See Stillingfleet’s Origines Sacrcc, where this question is treated in a very masterly manner by one of the,
ablest metaphysicians of the 17th century. See also our article Providence.
V. M E T A P
jftbe Im- cause for the preservation of immaterial substance in
iortality of its existence. Therefore these tendencies are t o be
the Soul. ^ ascri|,e(l to the will of God, and it is absurd to suppose
\ them contrary.”
nalosical All this is unquestionably true. The existence or
viJence of nonexistence of matter and of created spirits depends
upon the will of God j and we cannot suppose
be willing to-day the reverse of what he willed
nd amo- yesterday, because wre know that all his volitions are
d proof directed by unerring wisdom. We have likewise the
fa future evidence of experience, that nothing is ever suftered to
ate of rc- pg^gjj ]H1t particular systems, which perish only as si/-
miish- stems by a decomposition ot their parts. A being,
tents. which like the soul has no parts, can suiter no decom¬
position *, and therefore, if it perish, it must perish by
annihilation. But of annihilation there has not hi¬
therto been a single instance ; nor can we look for a
single instance without supposing the volitions of God
to partake of that unsteadiness which is characteristic of
man. Corporeal systems, when they have served their
purpose, are indeed resolved into their component parts }
but the matter of which they were composed so far
from being lost, becomes the matter of other systems in
endless succession. Analogy, therefore, leads us to con¬
clude, that when the human body is dissolved, the im¬
material principle by which it was animated continues
to think and act, either in a state of separation from all
body, or in some material vehicle to which it is inti¬
mately united, and which goes off with it at death j or
else that it is preserved by the Father of spirits, for the
purpose of animating a body in some future state. When
we consider the different states through which that
living and thinking individual, which each man calls
himself, goes, from the moment that it first animates an
embryo in the wromb, to the dissolution of the man of
fourscore j and when we reflect likewise on the wisdom
and immutability of God, together with the various
dissolutions of corporeal systems, in which we know that
a single atom of matter has never been lost j the pre¬
sumption is certainly strong, that the soul shall subsist
after the dissolution of the body. But when we take
into the consideration the moral attributes of God—
his justice and goodness, together with the unequal
distribution of happiness and misery in the present
world ; this presumption from analogy amounts to a
complete moral proof that there shall be a futui'e state
of rewards and punishments (q.) (see Moral Philo¬
sophy and Religion) : and if we estimate the duration
of the rewards by the benevolence of Him by whom
they are to be conferred, we cannot imagine them short¬
er than eternity.
276 Chap. V. Of Necessity and Liberty.
freedom of
fbdmIn the preceding chapter we have adverted to that
ountable-
tess. .
lie immor- ■vvl10|]y
*J°f him to
H Y S I C S.
669
great moral proof for a future state, and the immortality of Ne-
of the soul, arising from the relation in which man, ascessity and
a being accountable for his conduct, stands to a God , Liberty. ^
of almighty power, infinite wisdom, and perfect
justice. But the circumstance of accountableness im¬
plies freedom of agency ; for it is contrary to all our
notions of right and wrong (see Moral Philosophy'),
that a man should be either rewarded or punished for
actions which he wras necessitated or compelled to
perform.
Human actions are of three kinds : one, where we Every man
act by instinct, without any view to consequences ; one, has power
where we act by will, in order to obtain some end 5do what
and one, where we act against will. It is the second
kind of actions only which confers upon the agent
merit or demerit. With respect to the first, he acts
blindly (see Instinct), without deliberation or choice •,
and the external act follows from the instinctive
impulse, no less necessarily than a stone by its gra¬
vity falls to the ground. With respect to the last,
he is rather an instrument than an agent; and it is uni¬
versally allowed, that were a strong man to put a
sword into the hand of one who is weaker, and then
to force it through the body of a third person, he who
held the sword would be as guiltless of the murder as
the sword itself. To be entitled to rewards, or liable
to punishment, a man must act voluntarily j or in other
words, his actions must proceed from that energy of
mind w hich is termed volition; and, we believe, it
has never been denied, that all men have powrer to do
whatsoever they will, both with respect to the ope¬
rations of their minds and the motions of their bo¬
dies, uncontrouled by any foreign principle or cause.
“ Every man (says Priestley) is at liberty to turn his
thoughts to whatever subject he pleases, to consider
the reasons for or against any scheme or proposition,
and to reflect upon them as long as he shall think
proper j as well as to walk wherever he pleases, and
to do whatever his hands and other limbs are capable
of doing.” Without such liberty as this, morality is
inconceivable. 2^s
But though philosophers have m general agreed But diftcr-
witli respect to the power which a man has to per- ent opini-
form such actions as he wills, they have differed wdde-°n.s e”ter"
ly in opinion respecting the nature of his volitions.
That these are the result of motives, has seldom if everdom of
been questioned } hut whether that result be necessary volition,
so as that the agent has no self-determining powrer to
decide between diflerent motives, has been warmly dis¬
puted by men equally candid, impartial, and intelli¬
gent. The principal writers on the side of necessity
are, Hobbes, Collins, Hume, Leibnitz, Lord Karnes,
Hartley, Edwards, Priestley, and perhaps Locke. On
the other side are Clarke, King, Law, Reid, Butler,
Price, Bryant, Wollaston, Horsley, Beattie, and Gre¬
gory,
(q) It was by such arguments that Socrates reasoned himself into the belief of a future state of rewards and
punishments. He wras singular, as rve have already observed, in this belief j and he Avas as singular in confining
himself to the study of morality. “ What could be the cause of this belief, but this restraint, of which his belief
Avas a natural consequence P For having confined himself to morals, he had nothing to mislead him Avhereas the
rest of the philosophers, applying themselves Avith a kind of fanaticism to physics and metaphysics, had drawn a
number of absurd, though subtle, conclusions, which directly opposed the consequences of those moral arguments.”
JFarburton s Div. Leg. vd, ii.
670 METAPHYSICS. Part IT
Of Ne- gory, &c. To give a short view of this celebrated
cessity and question, is all that our limits will permit 5 and as
t i,ll)cUy- , we do not think ourselves competent to settle the dis¬
pute, it were perhaps a thing desirable to give the op¬
posite reasonings in the words of those eminent authors
themselves. It must, however, be obvious to the
reader, that the style and manner of so many different
writers are extremely various, and that to introduce
-them all into our abstract, would make the whole a
mass of confusion. We shall, therefore, select one wri¬
ter to plead the cause of necessity, supplying his defects
from those who, though inferior to him on the whole,
may yet have argued more ably on some particular
points which the question involves j and to this com¬
bined reasoning we shall subjoin such answers as to us
appear most conclusive. Hartley, Hume, and Priest¬
ley, are perhaps the most profound reasoners on the
side of necessity but there is so much more perspi¬
cuity in the arguments of Lord Karnes, that we can¬
not help preferring them, as being on the whole bet¬
ter calculated to give the ordinary reader a fair view of
27p the subject.
Scheme of u Into actions done with a view' to an end (says
necessity, his lordship*), desire and will enter: desire to ac-
toToul'^ complish the end goes first ; the will to act, in order
Karnes. t° accomplish the end, is next} and the external act
* Sketches follows of course. It is the will then, that governs
o f the His- every external act done as a mean to accomplish an
* Wan 0^P> o 0 k e 11 ^ ’ an<^ ^ *S ^es^re to accomplish the end that puts
iii Sketch 'vv^^ m°tion j desire, in this view, being com-
2. part 1. monly termed the motive to act. But what is it that
sect. 8. raises desire ? The answer, is ready : It is the prospect
of attaining some agreeable end, or of evading one
that is disagreeable. And if it be inquired, what
makes an object agreeable or disagreeable ? the answer
is equally ready : It-is our nature that makes it so.
Certain visible objects are agreeable,' certain sounds,
and certain smells : other objects of these senses are dis¬
agreeable. But there we must stop \ for we are far
from being so intimately acquainted with our own na¬
ture as to assign the causes.
“ With respeef to instinctive actions, no person, I
presume, thinks that there is any freedom. With re¬
spect to voluntary actions, done in order to produce
some eftect, the necessity is the same, though less appa¬
rent at first view. The external action is determined
by the will : the will is determined by desire y and de¬
sire by what is agreeable or disagreeable. Here is a
chain of causes and effects, not one link of which is ar¬
bitrary, or under command of the agent: he cannot
will but according to his desire *, he cannot desire, but
according to what is agreeable or disagreeable in the
objects perceived : nor do these qualities depend on his
inclination or fancy } he has no power to make a beau¬
tiful woman ugly, nor to make a rotten carcase smell
.sweetly.
“ Many good men, apprehending danger to mora¬
lity from holding our actions to be necessary, endea¬
vour to break the chain of causes and effects above
mentioned ; maintaining, that whatever influence de¬
sire or motives may have, it is the agent himself who is
the cause of every action 5 that desire may advise, but
cannot command j and, therefore, that a man is still
free to act in contradiction to desire and to the strongest
motives.
“ That a being may exist which in every case acts ofNe-
blindly and arbitrarily, without having any end in ceswty ai
view, I can make a shift to conceive : but it is difii- Liberty
cult for me even to imagine a thinking and rational * v
being, that has affections and passions, that has a de¬
sirable end in view, that can easily accomplish this
end 5 and yet after all can fly off or remain at rest,
without any cause, reason, or motive, to sway it. If
such a whimsical being can possibly exist, I am certain
that man is not that being. There is not, perhaps, a
person above the condition of a changeling, but can say
why he did so and so, what moved him, what he in¬
tended. Nor is a single fact stated to make us be¬
lieve that ever, a man acted against his own will or
desire, who was not compelled by external force.—
On the cqntrary, constant and universal experience
proves, that human actions are governed by certain
inflexible laws 5 and that a man cannot exert his self¬
motive power but in pursuance of some desire or mo¬
tive.
“ Had a motive always the same influence, actions
proceeding from it would appear no less necessary
than the actions of matter. The various degrees of
influence that motives have on different men at the
same time, and on the same man at different times,
occasion a doubt, by suggesting a notion of chance.
Some motives, however, have such influence as to
leave no doubt: a timid female has a physical power
to throw herself into the mouth of a lion roaring for
food ; but she is withheld by terror no less effectual¬
ly than by cords : if she should rush upon a lion, would
not every one conclude that she was frantic ? A man,
though in a deep sleep, retains a physical power to
act, but he cannot exert it. A man, though despe¬
rately in love, retains a physical power to refuse the
hand of his mistress j but he cannot exert that powrer
in contradiction to his own ardent desire, more than if
he were fast asleep. Now, if a strong motive have a
necessary influence, there is no reason for doubting,
but that a w'enk motive must also have its influence,
the same in kind, though not in degree. Some ac¬
tions indeed are strangely irregular j but let the wild¬
est actions be scrutinized, there will always be dis¬
covered some motive or desire, which, however, whim¬
sical or capricious, wras what influenced the person to
act. Of two contending motives, is it not natural to
expect that the stronger will prevail, however little
its excess may be P If there be any doubt, it must
arise from a supposition, that a weak motive may be
resisted arbitrarily. Where then are we to fix the
boundary between a weak and a strong motive ? If a
weak motive can be resisted, why not one a little
stronger, and why not the strongest ? Between two
motives opposing each other, however nearly balan¬
ced, a man has not an arbitrary choice, but must yield
to the stronger. The mind, indeed, fluctuates for
some time, and finds itself in a measure loose : at last,
however,- it is determined by the more powerful mo¬
tive, as a balance is by the greater weight after many
vibrations.
Such, then, are the lawrs that govern our volun¬
tary actions. A man is absolutely free to act accord¬
ing to his own will} greater freedom than which is
not conceivable. At the same time, as man is made
accountable for his conduct to his Maker, to his fel¬
low
lhap. V. M E T A P
OfNe- crcatuiTS, and to himself, he is not left to act ar-
ssityan.l hitrarily j for at that rate he would be altogether un-
Lli'clt-\ accountable : his will is regulated by desire ; and de¬
sire by what pleases or displeases him.—Thus, with
regard to human conduct, there is a chain of laws
established by nature ; no one link of which is left
arbitrary. By that wise system, man is made ac¬
countable ; by it he is made a fit subject for divine
and human government : by it persons of sagacity
foresee the conduct ol others j and by it the prescience
°f the Deity with respect to human actions is clearly
established.”
Of the doctrine of necessity, a more perspicuous
or plausible view than this is not to be found in any
Avork with which we are acquainted. It is indeed
defective, perhaps, as his lordship only hints at the
nature of that relation which subsists between motive
and action 5 but from his comparing the fluctuations
of the mind between two contending motives, to the
vibrations of a balance with different weights in the
opposite scales, there is no room to doubt but that
he agreed exactly in opinion with Mr Hume and Dr
Priestley. Now, both these writers hold, that the
relation of motives to volition and action, is the very
same with that which subsists between cause and ef¬
fect in physics, as far as they are both known to us.
“ It is universally allowed (says Mr Hume*), that
matter, in all its operations, is actuated by a necessary
force ; and that every natural effect is so precisely de-
aSo
■ Hume,
1
nquiry
Kerning termined by the energy of its cause, that no other
man Un
•stand-
, sect-
effect, in such particular circumstances, could possibly
3. have resulted from it. The degree and direction of
every motion is, by the laws of nature, prescribed
with such exactness, that a living creature may as soon
arise from the shock of two bodies, as motion in any
other degree or direction than what is actually pro¬
duced by it. M ould we, therefore, form a just and
precise idea of necessity, we must consider whence that
idea arises, when we apply it to the operation of bo¬
dies. But our idea of this kind of necessity and cau¬
sation arises entirely from the uniformity observable
in the operations of nature, where similar objects are
constantly conjoined together, and the mind is deter¬
mined by custom to infer the one from the appear¬
ance of the other. These two circumstances form
the whole of that necessity which we ascribe to mat¬
ter. Beyond the constant conjunction of similar objects,
and the consequent inference from one to the other, we
have no notion of any necessity or connexion.” Pie then
gives a pretty long detail to prove a great uniformity
among the actions of men in all nations and ages •, and
concludes that part of his argument with affirming,
“ n<>t only that the conjunction between motives and
voluntary actions is as regular and uniform as that
between the cause and effect in any part of nature ;
but also, that this regular conjunction has been uni¬
versally acknowledged among mankind, and has never
been the subject of dispute either in philosophy or
common life.” He afterwards observes, “ That men
begin at the Avrong end of this question concerning
liberty and necessity, when they enter upon it by ex¬
amining the faculties of the soul, the influence of the
understanding, and the operations of the will. Let
them first discuss a more simple question, namely, the
operations of body, and of brute unintelligent matter,
H Y SICS* 67P
and try whether they can there form any idea of cau- of Ne-
sation and necessity, except that of a constant con-cessity and
junction of objects, and subsequent inference of the Tiherty.
mind from one to another. If these circumstances v " "
form in reality the whole of that necessity which wre
conceive in matter, and if these circumstances be also
universally acknowledged to take place in the opera¬
tions of the mind, the dispute is at an end 5 at least
must be owned to be thenceforth merely verbal! When'
we consider how aptly natural and moral evidence link
together, and form only one chain of argument, we
shall make no scruple to allow that they are of the
same nature, and derived from the same principles. 
Between a connected chain of natural causes and vo¬
luntary actions, the mind feels no difference in pas¬
sing from one link to another; nor is less certain of
a future event which depends upon motives and voli¬
tions, than if it were connected with the objects pre¬
sent to the memory and senses by a train of causes,
cemented together by what we are pleased to call a
physical necessity. The same experienced union has
the same eftect on the mind, whether the united ob¬
jects be motives, volition and action, or figure and mo¬
tion. We may change the names of things, but their
nature and their operation on the understandino- never
change.”
Dr Priestley, in words a little different, teaches the Dr Priest-
very same doctrine which was taught by Mr Hume ley.
“ In every determination of the mind (says he *), * The Doc~
or in cases where volition and choice are concerned, ^ .
all the previous circumstances to be considered are the calNeSs-
stateof mind (including every thing belonging to the wiUsity ill us-
itself), and the views of things presented to it 3 the lat- trated.-
ter of which is generally called the motive, though un¬
der this term some writers comprehend them both.
To distinguish the manner in which events depending
upon will and choice are produced, from those in which
no volition is concerned, the former are said to be jiro-
duced voluntarily, and the latter mechanically. But the
same general maxims apply to them both. We may
not be able to determine a priori how a man will act in
any particular case} but it is because wre are not par¬
ticularly acquainted with his disposition of mind, precise
situation, and views of things. But neither can we tell
in which way the wind will blow to-morrow, though
the air is certainly subject to no other than necessary
laws of motion.
“It is universally acknowledged, that there can
be no effect without an adequate cause. This is
even the foundation on which the only jn'oper argu¬
ment for the being of a Ood rests. And the neces¬
sarian asserts, that if, in any given state of mind, with
respect both to disposition and motives, two different
determinations or volitions be possible, it can be so
on no other principle, than that one of them shall
come under the description of an effect without a cause;
just as the beam of a balance might incline either
way, though loaded with equal weights. It is ac¬
knowledged, that the mechanism of the balance is of
one kind, and that of the mind of another 5 and,
therefore, it may be convenient to denominate them
by different words ; as, for instance, that of the ba¬
lance may be termed a physical, and that of the mi ml
a moral mechanism. But still, if there be a real me¬
chanism in both cases, so that there can be only one
result’*
672
Of Ne¬
cessity and
Liberty,
282
View of
human li¬
berty.
M E T A P
result from the same previous circumstances, there will
be a real necessity, enforcing an absolute certainty in
the event. For it must be understood, that all that is
ever meant by necessity in a cause, is that which pro¬
duces certainty in the effect.''
Such is the nature of human volitions, according to
every necessarian of eminence who has written on the
subject since the days of Hobbes : and if this theory be
just, if there be a constant and inseparable conjunction
of motives and actions similar to that of cause and eftect
in physics, it is obvious, that in volition the mind is as
inert as body is in motion.
This consequence is indeed avowed and insisted upon
by Hume, Priestley, and their adherents ; whilst the ad¬
vocates for human liberty, on the other hand, contend
for an absolute exemption of the will from all internal
necessity, arising from its own frame and constitution,
the impulse of superior beings, or the operations of
objects, reasons, or motives, &c. By this they do not
mean, that between motives and volitions there is no
relations whatever, or that a man can ever choose evil
as evil, or refuse good as good. Such an assertion
would be contrary to consciousness and universal expe¬
rience. But what they endeavour to prove is, that
the conjunction of motive and volition is not insepa¬
rable, like that of cause and effect in physics; that a
man may in most cases choose according to any one of
two or more motives presented to his view j that by
choosing any thing, he may make it in some measure
agreeable by his own act, or, to speak more properly,
may bend his desire to it j that in volition, the mind
is not enert *, and that, therefore, we are under no ne¬
cessity to act in a particular manner in any given case
whatever.
That the conjunction of motive and action is not
constant like that of cause and effect in physics, and
that by consequence the mind in forming volitions is
not inert,' has been evinced by Hr Gregory with the
force and precision of mathematical demonstration.——
Former writers on the side of liberty had often ob¬
served, that upon the supposition of the inertia of
mind, a man, with equal and opposite motives pre¬
sented at once to his view, would, during their conti¬
nuance, remain perfectly at rest, like a balance equally
loaded in both scales. The observation is admitted to
be just by all the advocates for necessity j but they
contrive to evade its consequences, by denying that in
any given case a man can be at once assailed by two
equal and opposite motives. Thus, when it is said
that a porter, standing with his face due north, must
remain in that position at perfect rest, as long as equal
motives shall at once be offered to him for travelling
eastward and westward, the necessarians admit the
force of the argument; but when it is added that a
guinea, offered for every mile that he should travel in
each of these opposite directions, ought therefore to
fix him at rest till one of the offers be withdrawn, they
deny that the desire of gaining the guineas is the
whole of the motives which operate upon his mind. He
may have, say they, some secret reason which we can¬
not discern for preferring the one direction to the
other j and that reason, added to the guinea, will make
him go eastward or westward, just as an ounce thrown
into either scale of a balance poised by equal weights
will make that scale preponderate. 1 hough we think
H Y S I C S. Partll]
that this solution of the difficulty can satisfy no man OfNe-
who is not already biassed to the necessarian system; cessity at
and though, even were it to be admitted, it seems to, LlbeftP
militate against the constant conjunction of motives and ^
actions, unless it can be proved that the porter must
travel the road which he has been necessitated to
choose with reluctance and a heavy heart; yet as it
may admit of endless quibbling upon ambiguous words,
the philosophical world is much indebted to Dr Gre¬
gory f for an argument which, in our opinion can t Essay 0
neither be overturned nor evaded, and which demon-
strates that the conjunction of motive and action cannottu™ene~M
be constant and inseparable, like that of cause and ei-five and
feet in physics. Action.
His reasoning is to this purpose : Suppose a porter
to be offered a guinea for every mile that he s^a^tionthat
travel directly eastward. If there be no physical cause tjie con_
or moral motive to keep him at rest, or to induce him junction
to move in another direction, there cannot be a doubt, motive a
upon either hypothesis, but he will gladly embrace the
proposal, and travel in the direction pointed out to
him, till he shall have gained as much money as to sa¬
tisfy his most avaricious desires. The same thing would
have happened, if a guinea had been offered lor every
mile that he should travel due south. In these two
cases taken separately, the relation between the man’s
motions and his actions would be strikingly analogous
to that between a single impulse and motion in physics.
Let us now suppose the two offers to be made at the
same instant, and the man to be assured that if he tra¬
vel eastward he can have no part of the reward pro¬
mised for his travelling to the south, and that if he
travel southward he can have no part or the reward
promised for his travelling to the east. What is he to
do in this case ? If his mind be inert in volition, and
if the two motives operate upon him with the same
necessity that causes operate in physics, it is obvious
that the man could travel neither towards the east nor
towards the south, but in a diagonal direction from
north-west to south-east} and this he must do willing¬
ly, although perfectly satisfied that he could gain no¬
thing by his journey. As this inference is contrary
to fact and universal experience, the doctor very
justly concludes that the premises, from which it is de¬
duced by mathematical reasoning, must be false and
absurd 5 or, in other words, that the relation between
motive and action cannot be that of constant conjunc¬
tion, like the relation between cause and eflect in phy¬
sics.
He uses many arguments of the same kind, and
equally convincing, to prove the absurdity of suppos¬
ing the inertness of mind, and only an occasional con¬
junction of motives and actions j but we forbear to
quote them, both because we wish his bowk to be reau,
and because we think the single argument which we
have borrowed from him sufficient to demolish the
theory of Priestley and Hume, which rests wholly up¬
on the hypothesis of the constant conjunction of mo¬
tive and action.
But is it then not really true, that the external ac¬
tion is determined by the will, the will by desire, and
desire by what is agreeable or disagreeable ? That the
external action is universally determined by the will, is
certainly true } but that the will is necessitated and uni¬
versally determined by the desire is as certainly false.
\ PotipharS
Jliap. V. ' M E T A P
Of Ne- Potiphar’s wife was handsome, and made her proposals
;ssity and to Joseph with any degree of female address ; and if
Liberty. ^ jjjg constitution was like that of other young men;
there cannot be a doubt but that he felt a desire to do
what she requested of him: yet we know that he willed
to do otherwise, and in direct opposition to his desire
fled from the room. Perhaps it may be said, that his
volition to flee was the effect of a contrary and stronger
desire not to sin against God ; but this is confounding
the reader, by calling two energies of mind, between
which there is little or no similarity, by the same
name. He perceived, or knew, that to comply with
his mistress’s request would be to sin against God ; he
knew that he ought not to sin against God, and there¬
fore he chose or determined himself not to do it. We
can easily conceive how the presence, attitudes, and
address, of the lady might be agreeable to him, and
excite desire. There may very possibly be more than one
of our readers, who, during the course of their lives, have
experienced something of the same kind : but could ab¬
stract truth be in the same way agreeable, so as to excite
in his mind a desire of virtue sufficient to annihilate or
banish the desire of the woman ? As well may it be said
that one sensation can annihilate another, that the
beautiful colours of the rainbow can remove the sensa¬
tion of stench from the mind of him who is plunged
into the midst of a dunghill, or that the smell of a rose
can make a man insensible to the pain of a stroke in¬
flicted by a bludgeon. Sensitive desire, and the percep¬
tion of duty, are things so totally different, that to con¬
sider them as operating against each other, like different
weights in the opposite scales of a balance, is as absurd
as to suppose that sound can operate against colour, or
colour against smell. A man may prefer sound to co¬
lour, or colour to smell, and act accordingly j but the
determination must be wholly his own, unless these two
sensations be themselves either agents or physical causes
of the same kind, like the weights in the opposite scales
284 of the balance.
ndo The advocates for liberty do not pretend, that in
ahvays matters of importance a man ever acts without some
motive or reason for his conduct. All that they insist
upon is, that between two or more motives of differ¬
ent kinds he has a liberty of choice, and that he does
not always determine himself by that which he knows
to be the greatest. Without such freedom, they
think men might be often brought into situations
where they could not act at all, and where inaction
would at the same time be in the highest degree ab¬
surd. Thus, were two bags of gold containing each
a thousand or ten thousand guineas, to be placed on
the same table, before a man whose family is perishing
for want, and were the man to be told that he might
take either of them, but not both, is it conceiveable
that he would be held in perpetual suspense between
the two P No 5 he would instantly and with alacrity
take up one of them, without feeling the least regret
for the want of the other. This action would, indeed,
be the consequence of a very powerful motive, the
desire to obtain honestly that wealth of which he and
his family stood so much in need. That motive, how¬
ever, being general, would draw him equally to both
bags j and it remains with the necessarians to say by
what else than a self-determining power he could take
either the one or the other. When it is affirmed, that
Voi. XIII. Part II.
ermine
inselves
the
ingest
tive.
H Y S I C S. 673
such self-determination would be an effect without a of Ne-
cause, the advocates for liberty cannot help thinking cessity and
that their antagonists are guilty of advancing as an ar- liberty,
gument a petitio principii ; for the affirmation is true, ' -
only if the mind in volition be inert, and the inertia of
the mind is the sole question at issue. If the mind be
not inert, it is plain, that in consequence of a man’s
self-determination^ no effect would be produced without
a sufficient cause. At any rate, motives cannot be
causes. In the proper sense of the word, a cause is
that which produces an effect $ but the production
of an effect requires active power j and power being
a quality, must be the quality of some being by whom
it may be exerted. Power may be dormant, and
therefore power without will produces no effect.
Are motives, then, real beings endowed with power
and will ? No} they are only views of things or
mental conceptions, which in the strictest sense of tlia
word are passive j and between two motives the mind
determines itself, without receiving an impulse from
either.
Nor is it only between motives of equal force that
men have the power of determining themselves. Who¬
ever believes in a future state of rewards and punish¬
ments, and yet acts in a manner which he knows to
be offensive to Him who is to be the future and final
judge, unquestionably prefers to the strongest of all
motives, another which even to himself appears to
have comparatively but very little strength. Whether
there be men who occasionally act in this manner, is a
question which can be decided only by an appeal to
every one’s consciousness. That there are, we can have
no doubt; for we never met with a single individual,
not biassed by system, who was not ready to acknow-
ledgej that during tbe course of his life he had done
many things, which at the time of action he clearly
perceived to be contrary to his true interest. Without ^
a self-determining power in the mind, this could never
be the case. Hid motives operate with the necessity
of physical causes, it is obvious that in every possible
situation the strongest must constantly prevail 5 and that
he who in certain circumstances had in time past done
any particular thing, would on a return of the same cir¬
cumstances do the very same thing in every time future.
Dr Priestley, indeed, wishes to persuade his readers
that this is actually the case. “ In every determination
of the mind (says he), or in cases where volition and
choice are concerned, all the previous circumstances
to be considered are the state of mind (including) every
thing belonging to the will itself), And the various views
of things presented to it j” and he affirms, that “ when¬
ever the same precise circumstances occur twice, the
very same determination or choice will certainly be
made the second time that was made the first.” This
is an assertion of which no man can controvert the
truth ; for it is an identical proposition. If in the
circumstances previous to the determination of the
mind, every thing belonging to the will itself must be
included, it is self-evident that he who in any given
circumstances has acted a particular part, w ill on a re¬
turn of these circumstances act the same part a second
time j for this is only saying, that he who on two dif¬
ferent occasions shall exert volitions of the same ten¬
dency, will not on these occasions exert volitions of
which the tendencies are different. But the question
t 4 Q to
6;4
of Ne- to be decided is, Whether a man, in the same general
cessity and state of mind, possessed of the same degree of health,
Liberty- an,l conscious of the same appetites, must, in external
v ™ ' circumstances perfectly alike, necessarily exert at all
times the same volitions. That the human mind is
under no such necessity, we think every man’s consci¬
ousness and experience may abundantly satisfy him 5
for there are, perhaps, but very few who have not at
one time resisted temptations, to which at another they
have chosen to yield.
If they did That there is a relation between motives and actions,
folly as well must be confessed 5 but that relation is neither neccssi-
as merit ty, nor constant conjunction. If it vpere, all actions
and deme- would be perfectly rational 5 and folly, as well as merit
be banishedanc^ demerit, would be banished from the conduct of
from the
METAPHYSICS. Part 11
sidered the object of his volition as depending upon a of the ]1
power imparted to him from heaven j but though being and ,
might desire he could not will, the rising or the falling inbutes
of winds, for these he confessed were not subjected to , Gc’d'
his authority. In a word, without freedom in volition
power is inconceivable ; and therefore it is as certain
world.
* Reid's
Essays on
the Active
Roivers of
Man.
what he did not believe to be in his own power. We
| Rasselas
Rrince of
Abysdnia.
that we are free agents, as that we have any notion of
active powers.
men. What is the particular nature of that relation
which subsists between the voluntary actions of men,
and the motives from which they proceed, can be
known to every individual only by an attentive and
unbiassed reflection on the operations of his own mind.
Without this reflection, no man can be made to un¬
derstand it by the reasonings of philosophers, and with
it no man can need the aid of those reasonings. That
a self-determining power, such as that foT which we
plead, contributes to the sum of human happiness, has
been shown by Archbishop King and his ingenious
translator ; who have proved, with the force of demon¬
stration, that the mind can take pleasure in the object
of its choice, though that object be in itself neither
agreeable nor disagreeable to our natural appetites $
and that if it could not, it -would be in vain in such
a world as ours to hope for any portion of felicity.
Into that detail our limits will not permit us to
enter : but to the reader who wishes for further infor¬
mation, we beg leave to recommend the last edition
of King’s Origin of Evil, by Dr Law late bishop of
Carlisle , without, however, vouching for the truth
of all the opinions advanced by either of those learned
writers.
Before we conclude this chapter, it may be proper
4.0 observe, that it is only in volition that we are con¬
scious of any original active power in ourselves, and
that without such consciousness we could never have
acquired the notion of active power. In our desires
and appetites, we neither are active nor suppose our¬
selves active. Lord Kames, and most necessarians,
confound desire with volition ; but that they are per¬
fectly distinct is plain from this circumstance, that we
daily desire many things which we know to be wholly
out of our own power *, whereas no man ever willed
Chap. VI. Of the Being and Attributes
of God.
all desire or wish that our children may be virtuous,
wise, dnd happy j and though we are conscious that
it is not in our power to make them so, we cannot
banish the desire from our breasts. But madmen only
have ever willed virtue, wisdom, and happiness, to
any person ; and if there was ever a man so extrava¬
gantly mad as to exert such a volition as this, he has
at the time fancied himself a divinity, and therefore
believed that the object of his volition depended upon
himself. When the astronomer, whose character is so
admirably drawn by our great master of moral wis¬
dom f, fancied himself the regulator of the weather
and the distributor of the seasons, he might will either
rain or sunshine as he thought proper, because he con-
3
Ir has been already observed, that as of bodies
there are various kinds, endowed with various proper¬
ties j so the probability is, that of minds endowed
with different powers, or different degrees of power,
the variety may be as great, or perhaps greater. The
existence and powers of our own minds are made known
to us by consciousness and reflection ; and from our de¬
pendent state, and the mutability of the objects around
us, wre are necessarily led to infer the existence of another
mind, which is independent, unchangeable, eternal,
and the cause of all things which have a beginning of
existence. Between that mind and our own, we can
hardly avoid believing that there are many orders of
“ thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powrers 5”
but as wre have no intuitive knowledge of such inter¬
mediate beings, and cannot from any thing which we
perceive discern the necessity of their existence, they are
not properly the object of science. The existence how- aStf j
ever, and many of the attributes, of One First Cause, Tlie exi -S
are capable of the strictest demonstration •, “ for the in- ^
visible things of him from the creation of the world are 0'>
clearly seen, being understood by the things which arem0Bstr; ?
made.” turn.
Of this great truth, the most important by far which
can occupy the mind of man, many demonstrations have
been given both by divines and by philosophers. We
shall lay before our readers such a one as to us appears
perfectly conclusive, being founded on the intuitive
knowledge which wre have of our own existence, and
therefore independent of all theories about the nature
and reality of the material world.
Every man, whether he adopt the common theory
or that of Berkeley respecting matter, is conscious
that he himself exists, and must therefore grant that^ ^ ^
something now exists. But, if any thing exists now *,tQ |
then must something have always existed j otherwise
that thing which now exists, must either have been Evil.
created by nothing, i. e. have been caused by no cause, 2S-
or else it must have created itself, acting before it ex-’
1 Both these suppositions are so palpably absurd, ent r
isted
that no atheist has avowed them, either among thehasexi*^
ancients or the moderns. We must therefore admit, fryme-
either that there is some one independent being, whichmty’
now exists, and always has existed j or that the things
which we know to exist at present (every man’s self
for instance), were produced by something which had
its existence from something else, which also depended
upon some other cause, and so on in an infinite series oj
caused or successive beings. But this last supposition,
though it has been often made, is as grossly absurd as
either of the two former. For of this infinite series,
either some one part has not been successive to any other,
or
lee an
say to-
rds an
lap. VI. M E T A P
the Be- or else all the several parts of it have been successive,
ami At-If some one part of it was not successive, then it had
God 0t a first Pnr't > vhich destroys the supposition of its infi-
^ nity (a). If all the several parts of it have been suc¬
cessive, then have they all once been future ; but if they
have all been future, a time may be conceived when
none of them had existence : and if so, then it follows,
either that all the parts, and consequently the whole of
this infinite series, must have arisen from nothing, which
is absurd ; or else that there must be something in the
whole besides what is contained in all the parts, which
is also absurd.
As the possibility or impossibility of an infinite se¬
ries of dependent beings is the main question at issue
between the atheists and us, we shall state the preced¬
ing reasoning in a manner somewhat different. For
this purpose, let us suppose some one to affirm, that the
course of generation has had no beginning, and conse¬
quently that the number of successive births has been
infinite. We would ask such a person, W hether be¬
fore the birth of Abraham, for example *, there had
past an infinite series of generations or not ? If not,
•idim of the course of generation must have had a beginning,
Attri- which is the conclusion for which we contend. But
«o/ if the series past was infinite, then at the birth of Jo-
A tV i Se^ ^t-gv^on of Abraham, it is evident,
Printed that more generations were past, and that the number
Oxford, then was greater than that which was supposed to be
55. infinite ; so that upon this supposition we have a num¬
ber that is both infinite and not infinite, which is a
manifest contradiction. Should it be said that the
number of generations was infinite, as well at the birth
of Abraham as at the birth of Joseph ; it will then fol¬
low, that one infinite may be greater than another of the
very same kind j and consequently that an infinite may be
bounded, i. e. be finite. But should it be alleged, that the
number of births at Abraham’s was finite, and became
infinite when it reached to Joseph’s, it will then follow,
that one finite number added to another may make an
infinite number, which is directly contrary to every pos¬
sible notion of infinity. We might argue in the same
manner against an infinite series of every kind, the very
supposition of which involves the most palpable contra¬
dictions. See Chap. O/'Infinity Eternity.
From the impossibility of an infinite series it necessari¬
ly follows, that there exists, and must have existed from
eternity, some one independent being, whose duration
cannot be commensurate with succession, and to whom
the relation of time is not applicable. Here will some
atheists presently imagine, that by the same mode of rea¬
soning they may disprove the existence of God : for do
not they who thus destroy the eternity of the world,
destroy at the same time the eternity of the Creator ‘l
If time itself be not eternal, how' can the Deity or any
thing else be so ?
In urging these questions, it must be taken for grant¬
ed that time is essential to all existence, and that God
cannot be eternal otherwise than by a successive flux of
infinite time. But it has been already shown (N° 224.),
that successive duration is not essential to existence ;
That we can even conceive existence without succession j
iSS
iose du-
ion is
t com-
nsurate
th suc-
>sion,
i
H Y S I C S. 675
and it may here be added, that if we suppose a perfect Of the Be-
being alone in nature, we shall find it impossible toingandAt-
imagine any succession of ideas, any jlu.v oj moments, or tn^^s ol"
any alteration or increase whatever in his knowledge fend .
essence. Such duration as we are acquainted with can
have no relation to an imtuutable Being, while supposed
to exist alone j but as soon as he determined to exercise
his several attributes in the production of something di¬
stinct from himself, then, and not till then, have we
reason to think that time, succession, and increase, began.
These atheistical questions, therefore, instead of contain¬
ing an objection to the existence of a Deity, afford a plain
demonstration of it: for since it is not more evident that
something now exists than that something must have ex¬
isted from eternity 5 and since it has been shown, that
neither the world in its present state, nor time, nor any
thing capable of change or succession, can possibly be
eternal; it follows, that there must necessarily be some
Being who, in the order of nature, is before time, and
who, in the stability' and immutable perfection of his ow'ii
intelligence, comprehends at once his yesterday, to-day,
and /or ever. “ The atheists (says the excellent Cud-
worth *) can here only smile, or make wry faces, and * Jntdhc-
show their little wit in quibbling upon nunc-stans, or a tvu.il Sys-
standing now of eternity ; as if that standing eternity of^t7W> 'J00k ’•
the Deity (which with so much reason hath been con-c 5*
tended for by the ancient genuine t heist s') wrere nothing
but a pitiful small moment of time standing still, and as if
the duration of all beings whatsoever must needs be like
our own : whereas the duration of every thing must of
necessity be agreeable to its nature $ and therefore, as
that whose imperfect nature is exev flowing like a river,
and consists in continual motion and chajtges one after
another, must needs have accordingly a successive and
flowing duration sliding perpetually from present into
past, and always hasting on towards the future, expect¬
ing something of itself which is not yet in being j so
must that whose perfect nature is essentially immutable
have permanent and unchanging duration, never losing
any thing of itself once present, nor yet running forward
to meet something of itself which is not yet in being.” 28p
From the eternity of the Supreme Being we necessa- who is j elf-
rily infer his independence or self-existence j for that ex^tent*
which never had a beginning of existence cannot possi- an
bly have any cause of that existence, or in any manner
depend upon any other being, but must exist of itself,
or be self-existent. 250
Eternity ad partem post, or necessary existence, or the cannot
impossibility of ever ceasing to be, follows from inde-cea6e tp*’c'
pendence : For to the nature of that which exists with¬
out anv cause, existence must be essential. But a be¬
ing whose eixstence is of itself and essential to its na¬
ture, cannot be indifferent to existence or nonexistence,
but must exist necessarily. And here it may be proper
to observe, that the word necessity, when applied to ex¬
istence, may be taken in two acceptations very different
from each otherfj either as it arises from die relation f iVoto ta
which the existence of that being, of which it is affirm- ^
ed, has to the existence of other things ; or from the re-
lation which the existence of that thing has toquiry into
the manner of its own existence. the Ideas
4 Q 2 of Space,
&c.
(r) T*o tvK scir Arist. Phys. lib. viii. cap. 5> sect. 4.
&7
M E T A P
o
Of the Be- the former sense, when necessity of existence has
iug and At- relation to the existence of other things, it denotes
tributes of (})at the supposition of the «o«-existence of that thing
, ^od- ^ 0f which necessity is affirmed, implies the non-existence
of things which we know to exist. Thus, some inde-
What is pendent being does necessarily exist; because, to sup-
meant by pose 710 independent being, implies that there are no de-
necessary pendent beiivis; the contrary of which we know to be
existence.
true.
In the second sense, 'when the necessity of existence
arises from the relation which the actual existence of
any thing has to the manner of its own existence, ne¬
cessity means, that the thing, of which it is affirmed,
exists after such a manner as that it never could in
time past have been nonexistent, or can in time future
cease to be. Thus, every independent being, as it exists
without a cause, is necessarily existing } because exist¬
ence is esse)itial to such a being ; so that it never could
begin to exist, and never can cease to be: For to sup¬
pose a being to begin to exist, or to lose its existence, is
to suppose a change from nonentity to entity, or vice
versa; and to suppose such a change is to suppose a
cause upon which that being depends. Every being,
therefore, which is independent, i. e. which had no
cause of its existence, must exist necessarily, and cannot
possibly have begun to exist in time past, or cease to be
in time future.
Only one These two kinds of necessity as applied to existence,
necessarily though they have been often confounded, are in them-
existent be-seiveg perfectly distinct : For though a being cannot
former ^ necessarily existent in the former sense without be-
sense; and ing 80 in latter also ; yet may it be necessarily ex¬
istent in the latter sense without being so in the for¬
mer. For any thing that we know to the contrary,
there may be two or more beings existing necessarily
in the latter sense of the word necessity, i. e. with re¬
gard to independence and the maimer of their own exist¬
ence : but in the former sense of the word, i. e. in rela-
sion to this system, there can be but one necessarily ex¬
istent being \ for it is obvious that no more are necessa¬
ry to account for the production of the dependent beings
which we know to exist. To suppose the non-existence
of all independent beings, implies the non-existence of
all dependent beings, ourselves, and every thing else *,
but to suppose the non-existence of all independent be¬
ings except one, involves in the supposition no such ab-
293 surdity,
though Thus the phenomena of nature lead us, by the
there might strictest reasoning, to one first cause, which is suffi-
than^ne €*ent f°r thm1' production j and therefore none but one
in the lat- ^rst cause can,in this sense of the word be necessary:
ter, they And though several more independent beings might pos-
would be sibly exist, yet they would be no gods to us: they
no gods to -would have no relation to us demonstrable by reason,
nor we any thing to do with them. For if the sup¬
position of their existence were not requisite to the
production of this system, which it obviously would
not be, we could perceive no necessity for it at all 5 we
could never discover it by our own'faculties, and there¬
fore it could be nothing to us. And though two or
three such beings should exist, and act in the formation
and government of their respective systems, or agree in
one; yet till their existence and operations were made
known to us, and a natural relation discovered, nothing
would be due from us to them. They would have no
4
H Y S I C S. Part H
religious or moral relations to us 5 and we should have of the 1
no reason to call more than one of them our creator, ing and,
preserver and governor, which is the proper sense of the tlibutcs
word God. 1 ^oc^_
To show in this manner that there is only one eter¬
nal self-existent Being which bears the relation of God 294
to us, seems to be going as far as is necessary, or as Impossib]
natural light will lead us. Those who endeavour tototieni011
demonstrate that there cannot possibly be moi e than one * 1 r„tlC
-n • ■ 1 -1 . ^ , ujere eai
self-existent Being, either reason in a circle, or proceed be tutor
upon principles which their antagonists cannot beself-exis-
compelled to grant. When they deduce the Divinetent
unity from independence or omnipotence, they evi¬
dently presuppose it in their definition of these attri¬
butes : and when they infer it from the nature of space
and duration, which they consider as modes of the
self-existent Being, they take it for granted, that space
and duration have a real existence, independent of us
and our thoughts j and that the one is infinite and the
other eternal, contrary to what has been already prov¬
ed, we think, with the force of demonstration. The
celebrated Dr Clarke made much use of space and du¬
ration in his attempt to demonstrate that there can be
but one self-existent Being *, but he argues for the
same thing from the nature of necessity as applied to
existence.
295
“ Necessity (says he *), absolute in itself, is siwip/e Dr Clark
and uniform and universal, without any possible differ- first dome
ence, drffbrmity, or variety, whatsoever : and all variety '
or difference of existence must needs arise from some ex- *
tei'nal cause, and be dependent upon it, •xaApropot'tionable stration
to the efficiency of that cause, whatsoever it be. Ab-the Bern
solute necessity, in which there can be no variation in any
kind or degree, cannot be the ground of existence of a Q0d J
number of beings, however similar and agreeing: be-Prop, 7.
cause, without any other difference, even number is itself
a manifest dfformity or inequality (if I may so speak)
of efficiency or ca7(sality.','> ^
Such is this great man’s first argument from neces-examinei
sity, to prove that there cannot be more than one self-an(f sh0',j
existent Being. But what is this necessity which provest0 liC,in-
. concTUsii
so much ? It is the ground of existence (he says) of
that w hich exists of itself j and if so, it must, in the
order of nature, and in our conceptions, be antecedent
to that being of whose existence it is the ground. Con¬
cerning such a principle, there are but three supposi¬
tions which can possibly be made ; and all of them may
be shown to be absurd and contradictory. We may
suppose either the substance itself, some property of that
substance, or something extrinsic to both, to be this
antecedent ground of existence prior in the order of na¬
ture to the frst cause.
One wrould think, from the turn of the argument
which here represents this antecedent necessity as effi¬
cient and causal, that it were considered as something
extrinsic to the first cause f. Indeed it the words have ^rgumr
any meaning in them at all, or any force of argument, a priori,
they must be so understood, just as we understand them added to
of any external cause producing its effect. But as an
exti'insic principle is absurd in itself, and is besides re- ^ideas
jected by Dr Clarke, who says expressly, that “ of Xhtqf Space,
thing which derives not its being from any other thing, Time, 1”
this necessity or ground of existence must be in the thing }^st d’
itself,” we need not say a word more of the last of these ^
suppositions..
Let
Jhap.
tier.
VI. M E T A P
f the Be- Let us then consider the first; let us take the sub-
jf and At- stance itself, and try whether it can be conceived as prior
ibutes of or antecedent to itself in our conceptions or in the order
^ ' i of nature. Surely we need not observe that nothing
can be more absurd or contradictory than such a sup¬
position. Dr Clarke himself repeatedly aflirms, and it
would be strange indeed if he did not affirm, that no
being, no thing whatever, can be conceived as in any
respect prior to the first cause.
The only remaining supposition is, that some attribute
or property of the self-existent Being may be conceived
as in the order of nature antecedent to that being. But
this, if possible, is more absurd than either of the two
preceding suppositions. An attribute is attributed to its
subject as its ground or support, and not the subject to
its attribute. A property, in the very notion of it, is
proper to the substance to which it belongs, and subse¬
quent to it both in our conceptions and in the order of
nature. An o/zfem/enf attribute, or antecedent property,
is a solecism as great, and a contradiction as flat, as an
antecedent subsequent or subsequent antecedent, under¬
stood in the same sense and in the same syllogism. Every
property or attribute, as such, presupposes its subject *,
and cannot otherwise be understood. This is a truth
so obvious and so forcible, that it sometimes extorts
the assent even of those who Upon other occasions labour
to obscure it. It is confessed by Dr Clarke *, that
Answer “ the scholastic way of proving the existence of the
^self-existent Being from the absolute perfection of bis
nature, is 7r(>6Ti(>o¥. For all or any perfections
(says he) presuppose existence ; which is a petitio
principHi" If therefore properties, modes, or attributes
in God, be considered as perfections (and it is impos¬
sible to consider them as any thing else), then, by this
confession of the great author himself, they must all or
any of them presuppose existence. It is indeed imme¬
diately added in the same place, “ that bare necessity of
existence does not presuppose, but infer existence }n
which is true only if such necessity be supposed to be a
principle extrinsic, the absurdity of which has been
already shown, and is indeed universally confessed. If
it be a mode or a property, it must presuppose the exist¬
ence of its subject, as certainly and as evidently as it is
a mode or & property. It might perhaps « posteriori in¬
fer the existence of its subject, as eftects may infer a
cause ) but that it should infer in the other way a priori
is altogether as impossible as that a triangle should be a
square, or a globe a parallelogram.
Doubtful, as it would seem, of the force of his first
argument, which even those who pretend to be con-
n'of the v^nced by it acknowledge to be obscure, the doctor
me au- gives a second, which we must confess appears to us to
sr- be still more obscure, and if possible less conclusive.
“ To suppose two or more distinct beings existing of
themselves necessarily and independent of each other, im¬
plies (he says) this contradiction, that each of them be¬
ing independent from the other, they may either of
them be supposed to exist alone; so that it will be no
contradiction to suppose the other not to exist j and
consequently neither of them will be necessarily existing.
Whatsoever therefore exists necessarily is the one sim¬
ple essence of the self-existent Being j and whatsoever
differs from that is not necessarily existing, because in
absolute necessity there can be no difference or diversity
of existence.
:97
second
monstra-
H Y S I C S. 677
“ Necessity is used here in two different senses *, of the Be-
both as absolute and relative. In the former, neither ofing and At*
the two beings can exist without the other, i. e. with- tributes of
out our supposing the other to exist also, since that is God- f
equally necessary. In the latter, either of them may * Law'sin-
exist alone, i. e. as without the help of the other, of with- quiry into
out the supposition of the other as requisite to its own ^ Ideas of
existence. The consequence, therefore, that either of^"^’^0,
them may exist alone, and so neither of them is neces-
sary, is a mere equivocation on necessity, using it both in examined
an absolute and relative sense at the same time.” But and shown
as this is a question of the highest importance, and as to.be e<lua^
the author was a man of great worth, we shall consider 1' *nconc'Ur
his argument upon the supposition that the word ne¬
cessity has from the beginning to the end of it the same
invariable meaning.
It has been already observed, that there are only two
senses in which that word can be applied to the exist¬
ence of any being 5 and whether it be here used in the
one or the other of these senses, the reasoning, if re¬
solved into a syllogism, will appear to be inconclusive.
If the word be taken in that sense of necessity which
arises from the relation that dependent beings which
we know to exist bear to some one independent Being,
the argument will stand thus :
From a known effect no more causes can be necessa¬
rily inferred than what are sufficient to account for
that effect ; but
One self-existent and independent Being is sufficient
to account for all the phenomena of nature ; there¬
fore, from the phenomena, &c.
.No more than one such Being can be necessarily in¬
ferred to exist.
But though no more than one independent. being
can in this sense of the wrord necessarily exist, it by no
means follows from this syllogism, that two or more
such beings may not possibly exist. It is, indeed, a plain
contradiction to say, that two or more self-existent
beings are in this sense necessary ; but surely there is
no contradiction in saying, that two or twenty such
beings are possible. We could not, therefore, by this
argument convict a person of absurdity, who should
affirm that two or more independent beings actually
exist. We might, indeed, deny the existence of them
all but one, because one is sufficient to account for
those phenomena, from wdiich alone we know that
any independent being exists 5 but because one of them
might be supposed to exist alone, so that it would be
no contradiction to suppose the other not to exist j
we know not how the doctor came to affirm, in direct
opposition to his own demonstration, that not one of
them would be necessarily existing.
.Necessity, as applied to existence, in the other sense
of the word, arises, as we have seen, from the relation
which the actual existence of the being, of which it
may be affirmed, has to the manner of that being’s ex¬
istence. It is the same necessity, we are told *, with f Answer
that which is the cause of the unalterable proportionto the Sixth
between two and four; audit is considered as the lroiu
formal cause or ground of the existence of an independ-
ent being. Were it not for the strange expressions Gloucester*
formal cause and ground of existence, we should have no a!*U:e>
objection to this account of that necessity by which a
being independent undoubtedly exists : but this kind
4
678 METAPHYSICS.
Of the Be- necessity is a principle wlncli will not support the
imp: and At- superstructure which the learned author labours to
tributes of raise upon it. The same necessity which is the cause
of the unalterable proportion between two and four,
is likewise the cause of the unalterable proportion be¬
tween three and six, between four and eight, and be¬
tween five and ten, &c. But if it can be the cause of
so many dift'erent proportions of the same kind, why
may it not be the formal cause or ground of existence
to as many independent beings of the same kind as well
as to one? The following syllogism, we apprehend, to
be legitimate both in mode and figure, and its conclu¬
sion is directly contrary to the proposition which the
doctor deduces from the same notion of necessity.
If necessity, considered as a formal cause or ground
of existence, be in one instance of its causality the
formal cause or ground of existence to many
things of the same kind, it may likewise in every
other instance of its causality, be the formal cause
or ground of existence to many things of the same
kind.
But such necessity, in that instance of its causality
where it is the formal cause or ground of exist¬
ence to the unalterable proportion between two
and four, is the formal cause or ground of exist¬
ence to many proportions oi X\\o same kind.
Therefore, the same necessity in that other instance
of its causality, where it is said to be the formal
cause or ground of existence to one independent
being, undoubtedly may be the formal cause or
ground of existence to many independent beings of
the same kind.
299
Necessity, Thus it appears, that necessity, in any sense in which
a danger- it can be properly affirmed of existence, cannot be the
-ous prin- foundation of any argument to prove the impossibility
cip e- 0f more t|jan one self-existent being. It is indeed a prin¬
ciple from which we apprehend that no positive con¬
clusion whatever can be deduced by reasoning a priori.
That necessity of existence may be predicated of a
being which is independent and uncreated, is self-evi¬
dent j because to the nature of such a being, exist¬
ence is essential. But whilst that nature itself remains
wholly incomprehensible by us, it is impossible that we
should discover, by our own unassisted reason, wdiether
it can be the nature of only one, or of more than one,
independent being. To argue from necessity, as if it
were the cause or ground of existence to such a being,
Part III
is certainly absurd, if it be not impious ; for if that Of the Be
to which existence is essential, does not exist without i»g and At |
any cause efficient or formal, we shall be obliged to tnhuteso
inquire after a cause or ground of this cause, and thus ■ ^ _
be involved in all the absurdities and contradictions of
an infinite series. i We have insisted the longer on this
point, because necessity, as the foundation of the argu¬
ment a priori, has sometimes been employed to very
bad purposes. Attempts have been made from tire no¬
tion of necessary existence, to prove that the Supreme
Being cannot be a free agent, and to set the first prin¬
ciples of the religion of nature at variance w ith those
which are revealed in the Scriptures. ,co
But though Ave are firmly persuaded that the di-The unit’
vine unity cannot be demonstrated a priori, tve are far oi Clod
from thinking it incapable of any pj'oof On the con-pc
trary, the common arguments a posteriori, drawn from
the order and harmony of the world, have always sa¬
tisfied us, and in our opinion must satisfy every per¬
son capable of proportioning his assent to evidence,
that the Creator and Preserver of such a system has
but one will and one intelligence, and therefore is him¬
self but one being. But pj'oof is one thing, and demon¬
stration is, in the proper sense of theAVord, another (g).
And if Ave cannot arrive at absolute certainty concern¬
ing this important truth by the light of nature, Ave
ought to be the more thankful for that revelation, which
has put the unity of God past dispute to all ivlro believe
the holy Scriptures. * 301
The being which is self-existent and independent omn
must be also omnipotent. That such a being lias active Potent
power in some degree, is shown at the same time and
by the same medium that Ave prove his existence j
and since he depends upon no cause for his existence
or his poAver, he cannot depend upon any for the ex¬
ertion of that power, and consequently no limits can be
applied to it. Limitation is an effect of some superior
cause, which in the present instance there cannot be :
consequently to suppose limits Avliere there can be no
limiter, is to suppose an effect without a cause. For a
being to be limited or deficient in any respect*, is * Notes t
to be dependent in that respect on some other being
Avhich gave it just so much and no more ; consequent- ^
ly that being which in no respect depends upon any
other is in no respect limited or deficient. In all beings
capable of increase or diminution, and consequently
incapable of perfection or absolute infinity, limitation or
defect is indeed a necessary consequence of existence,
and
(g) John Gerhard and John ^ ossius both cite Gabriel Biel as acknowledging the unity of God to be incapable
of rigid demonstration j and Avith the sentiments of that schoolman, those two learned divines profess their oivn
to agree. ,
Sed Biel (1 Sant. Dist. 2. Q. 10. Art. 3.), statuit “ quod tantum unum esse Deum, sit creditum et non demon-
stratum ratione natural! nobis in via possibili.” Id nos ita interpretamur; etiamsi ex naturce libro rationes non
contemnendee pro mutate divinge essentiie asserenda erui possint, eas tamen ad fidei TrXrgoipt^ictv cordibus nostris in-
generandum, non satis efficaces esse. Ergo mens prius confirmanda est exverbo Dei, et illustribus testimoniis in
quibus se Ileus generi humano patefecit: Postea utiliter potest addi censideratiophilosophicarum demonstrationum.
Gerhard. Loc. Comm. tom. i. p. 106.
. Uissentit Gabriel Biel, qui ante annos hosce 140 Tubingensi Gymnasio prsefuit. Is censet probabiles magis ra¬
tiones esse quam evidentes et certas.—Verum esto sane, ut solae non sint ctTrc^uxTixett: At magnum iis pondus ad-
dit traditio vetus j turn autem quod argumenta isthsec, si non prorsns uTroouxTout, saltern usque adeo probabilia sint,
ut iru TroXviuxf patroni nihil ullius momenta adferre valeant; cur plusquam unum statuere deum potius com'eniat*
loss, de Idolatria, lib. L g. 2.
Hup. VI.
fthe Be-
| r aad At-
l ilmtes of
God.
303
nnipo-
nce can
■ every
ing wliich
ies not
iply a
ntradic-
m.
Leviath.
mp. 3.
Respons.
I Objcc-
im Sex-
ii, 5 6.
and is only a negation of that perfection which is wholly
incompatible with their nature 3 and therefore in these
beings it requires no further cause. But in a being
naturally capable perfection or absolute infinity, all im¬
perfection or Jiniteness, as it cannot flow from the nature
of that being, seems to require some ground or reason ;
which reason, as it is foreign from the being itself, must
be t’'e effect of some other external cause, and conse¬
quently cannot have place in the first cause. That the
self-existent being is capable of perfection or absolute
infinity must be granted, because he is manifestly the
subject of one infinite or perfect attribute, viz. eter¬
nity, or absolute invariable existence. In this respect
his existence has been shown to be perfect, and there¬
fore it may be perfect in every other respect also. Now
that which is the subject of one finite attribute or
perfection must have all its attributes infinitely or in
perfection ; since to have any perfections in a finite
limited manner, when the subject and these perfec¬
tions are both capable of strict infinity, would be the
forementioned absurdity of positive limitation without
a cause. To suppose this eternal and independent
being limited in or by its own nature, is to suppose some
antecedent nature or limiting quality superior to that be¬
ing, to the existence of which no thing, no quality, is
in any respect antecedent or superior. And to suppose
that there is no such thing as active power in a being
which is evidently the fountain of all power, is the
grossest of all absurdities. The same method of rca-
soning will prove knowledge and every other per¬
fection to be infinite in the Deity, when once we have
proved that perfection to belong to him at all ", at least
it will show, that to suppose it limited is unreasonable,
since we can find no manner oiground for limitation in
any respect; and this is as far as we need go, or per¬
haps as natural light will lead us.
Of the omnipotence of the supreme Being some
philosophers as well theists as atheists, have talked very
absurdly. Hobbes *, with a view to make this attribute
appear impossible and ridiculous, affirms “ that God
by his omnipotence or infinite power could turn a
tree into a syllogism.” And Des Cartes f, though
certainly no atheist, childishly asserts, that all things
whatever, even abstract truth and falsehood, do so de¬
pend upon the arbitrary will and power of God, as
that if he bad pleased, “ twice two should not have been
four, nor the three angles of a plain triangle equal
to two right ones.” But the true motion of Omnipo¬
tence, so far from implying a power to turn a tree into
a syllogism, or to make twice two not equal to four, im¬
plies only that the being possessed of it can actually
perform whatever can be conceived by the most per¬
fect understanding ; conception in this case being the
measure of possibility. Now every thing may be con¬
ceived by a mind sufficiently enlarged which does not
involve in it a direct contradiction 5 but what we clear¬
ly discern to imply a contradiction, such as that a thing
may be and not be at the same instant, cannot be con¬
ceived by any intellect, or made to exist by any power.
METAPHYSICS. 679
And thus has this attribute of the Divinity been al-of the Be-
ways stated, not only by the wfiser Christians, but also ing; and At-
by most of the ancient philosophers themselves, who ex-
pressly admit that “ nothing is exempted from the di- . ‘ ,
vine power, but only to make that which hath been
done to be undone (h).” 303
And here it may be asked, Whether creation, in Creation
the proper sense of the word (see Creation), be possible to
within the compass of infinite power. All the an-^™™*’0
cient philosophers, who were unenlightened by ' the * see
rays of divine revelation, held that it is not* j ground-sfofm’sDis¬
ing their opinion upon this maxim, A'a’ nihilo nihil fit. sertation on
But the maxim will support no such conclusion.— thisSgbject,
m, • , i ^ 1 i -.i m his Ldi-
1 he ancients, or at least the I enpatetic school, with ^
the metaphysics of which we are best acquainted, con- Cudworth's
sidered four kinds of causes, the efficient, the material, Intellectual
the formal, and the final; and though they extended System.
the maxim to the first two, if not to all these causes,
it is a self-evident truth only when applied to the effi¬
cient cause. Without the actual exertion of power, it
is indeed most certain that nothing could be brought
into existence; but it is so far from being clear that
pre-existent matter, or, as Aristotle chose to express
himself, a material cause, must be supposed for infinite
power to operate upon, that, we think, every man
may find complete evidence of the contraiy in him¬
self. That sensation, intelligence, consciousness, and
volition, are not the result of any modifications of fi¬
gure and motion, is a truth as evident as that consci¬
ousness is not swift, nor volition square. If then these
be the powers or properties of a being distinct from
matter, which we think capable of the completest proof,
every man who does not believe that his mind has ex¬
isted and been conscious from eternity, must be ctyi-
vinced that the power of creation has been exerted in
himself. If it be denied that there is any immaterial
substance in man, still it must be confessed, that, as
matter is not essentially conscious, and cannot be made
so by any particular organization, there is some real
thing or entity, call it what you please, which has either
existed and been conscious from eternity, or been in
time brought from non-entity into existence by an ex¬
ertion of infinite power.
To this perhaps some one may object, that upon
our own supposition of the inability of the human
mind to exert its faculties but in union with some
material and organized system, the mind of every man
may have existed from eternity without being consci¬
ous of its own existence 5 and that, therefore, we have
in ourselves no evidence of creation, but only of the
union of two self-existent substances, which, in their
prior state, had been distinct and separate from each
other. But such an objection as this, we beg leave
to reply, can arise from nothing but misapprehension
of our hypothesis, and of the reasons by which we
think it supported. We suppose, that to the exer¬
tion of the human faculties, a body of some kind or
other may be necessary as an instrument, not merely
from what we observe of the dependence of percep¬
tion
(h) To 5s yeyovo? ovx iibiyj.Tou p.% yznrQxi' (ho uyocdu? AyctOur.
Moi>ov yocg xvTov kxi 6105 rZ(>io-x.ZTcii,
AytyqTci rroitiv, ciTtr cci k Trirr^xyp-wx. Arist. ad Licomach. lib. Vi. cap. 2.
68o
M E T A P
OftheBe-tion and memory on the state of the brain, but be¬
ing and At-cause we cannot conceive a Creator of infinite wisdom
tributes of
God.
and goodness to immerse in systems of matter, minds
i to which he knows that such systems must be always
useless and often hurtful. We believe, therefore, that
our souls and bodies were created and formed for each
other j but as our present adversaries admit not of a
Creator, we must ask them, How their self-existent
souls have been disposed of from eternity, and by what
power they have all in due succession been united each
to its proper body P As before the union they were
not conscious, they could not unite themselves ; and
to suppose them united by some superior intelligence,
is to suppose them in some respects dependent on that
intelligence, which seems not to accord with their
self-existence. Whatever is self-existent and eternal
must be independent; and if possessed of any power,
cannot be conceived to have that power limited.—
We repeat, therefore, that every man has in himself
sufficient evidence that creation is possible j for if in¬
finite power can create an immaterial and percipient
being, it may surely be supposed capable of creating
dead and unintelligent matter.
But the creation of the material system may be
shown to be in the highest degree probable by other
arguments. The same reasoning which proves the
impossibility of an infinite series and of eternal time,
proves that the universe cannot have existed from eter¬
nity in its present state. But if it has not existed from
eterpity in its present state, it belongs to the oppo¬
nents of creation to say what was its foianer. We
talk indeed of chaos ; but such language, when a Crea¬
tor is not admitted, is most unphilosophical trifling.
.. R It appears from the most accurate inquiries that have
iibeen matle intG the s?bstance and essence of body*,
to the Na- that the atoms of which each mass is composed are
ture of the held together by a foreign force. If by chaos be
meant matter, ivhen this force is supposed to be re¬
moved, we must beg leave to say, that of such a sub¬
stance we have neither idea nor notion, and cannot
distinguish it from nonentity. The original atoms
of matter, we believe indeed to require no other
agency to keep each entire than that fiat by which
it was created ; but still, as those atoms are conceiv¬
ed to be solid and extended, they must be capable
of division by infinite power ; and if that fiat or influ¬
ence which makes them solid and extended were re¬
moved, they would lose solidity and extension, and of
course become nothing. So far is it, therefore, from
Human
Soul
H Y S I C S. Part II]
being true, that the creation of matter appears to be OftheR
impossible, that we are compelled by every thing thatingandA
we know of it to believe that matter cannot possibly tributesc
be self-existent. ,
“ Because it is undeniably certain, concerning our¬
selves (says Cud worth f), and all imperfect beings,
that none of these can create any nav substance, men tualSyja
are apt to measure all things by their own scantling, *•
and to suppose it universally impossible for any power1,8®- $'
whatever thus to create. But since it is certain, that
imperfect beings can themselves produce some things:
out of nothing pre-existing, as neiv cogitations, new
local motioji, and new modifications of things corporeal,
it is surely reasonable to think that an absolutely per¬
fect Being can do something more, i. e. create new sub¬
stances, or give them their whole being. And it may
well be thought as easy for God or an Omnipotent
Being, to make a whole world, matter and all, e|
©»7<yy, as it is for us to create a thought or to move a
finger, or for the sun to send out rays, or a candle
light} or lastly, for an opaque body to produce an
image of itself in a glass or water, or to project a sha¬
dow : all these imperfect things being but the ener¬
gies, rays, images, or shadows, of the Deity. For a
substance to be made out of nothing by God, or a Be¬
ing infinitely perfect, is not for it to be made out of no¬
thing in the impossible sense, because it comes from
him who is all. Nor can it be said to be impossible
for any thing whatever to be made by that which
hath not only infinitely greater perfection, but also infi¬
nite active poxver. It is indeed true, that infinite
power itself cannot do things in their own nature im¬
possible j and, therefore, those who deny creation,
ought to prove, that it is absolutely impossible for a
substance, though not for an accident or modification, to
be brought from non-existence into being. But no¬
thing is in itself impossible, which does not imply a
contradiction : and though it be a contradiction for
a thing to be and not to be at the same time, there
is surely no contradiction in conceiving an imperfect
being, which before was not, afterwards to be.” To
call in question the possibility of creation, because we
have no adequate conception how a thing can be brought
into existence, would be in the highest degree absurd ;
for it may be doubted, whether we have adequate con¬
ceptions of any thing except our own ideas and their
various relations (l).
That Being which is self-existent, omnipotent, and God a fre
omniscient, is not a necessary, but a free agent; for ac- agent; ^
tive
vi) idicula ioret et inepta ejus temeritas, qui corporum ideo creationem sibi duceret negandum esse,
quo. eju, creationis claram et perspicuam notionem efiingere cogitatione nobis hand licet. Infinita enim est rerum
opia, qaarum perspicuis et apertis caremus notionibus. Et si omnia neganda continuo nobis esseht, quorum
eon usam tan turn et imperfectam consequi possumus notionem, omnia fere nobis essent neganda, exceptis rela-
tioni jus, qua.-, inter notiones quasdam abstractas esse intelligimus. Quis interiorem sibi naturam r erum, tam cor¬
porum, quam spintuum, cognitam esse dixerit ? Et esse tamen has naturas, omni plane dubitatione vacat.
vtuis quemadmodum altera harum naturarum agat in alteram, sese scire, affirmet ? Quis causas sibi patere,
propter quas hi vel illi effectus, quos videmus quotidie contingere, h certis veniant corporibus, jure glorietur ?
-i.ee tamen qm^quam est, qui vel illam aniniEe in corpus operationem, vel hos effectus in dubium revocare ausit.
eneamus igitur ea, quas certo novimus, nec idcirco nos ah illis dimoveri patiamur, quod multa rursus sunt,
quorum naturam ignoramus; contra multa nos fugere et cognitionem nostrum superare, aequo at tranquillo fe-
ramus ammo. Joannis Ciena contra eos qui negant, ex nihilo ulla ratione fieri posse aliquid, observationes ; in
Moshemn edit. Intellcc. Syst.
i Attri-
\aof
'ooper's
■acts.
ihap. VI. M E T A P
[the Be- five power implies freedom, and infinite power infinite
r and At-freedom, hat, therefore, hath no bounds set to its
God 0t Power’ wl,.at cay1 ,iave no opposition made to its will,
_ ■ nor restraint laid on its actions, must both will and
act freely. “ If the Supreme Cause were not a be¬
ing endowed with liberty and choice, but a mere ne¬
cessary agent, then would it follow, as Dr Clarke well
Demon- observes that nothing which is not, could possibly
ation of have been ; and that nothing which is, could possibly
Being no£ jiave f5een • an<J that no mode or circumstance of
the existence of any thing could have been in
any respect otherwise than it now actually is. All
which being evidently most false and absurd 5 it follows,
on the contrary, that the Supreme Cause is not a mere
necessary agent, but a Being endued with liberty and
choice.”
To this reasoning it has been lately replied t, that
“ Clarke must have known, that all those who con¬
tend against the free agency of the Deitv, do of course
acknowledge, that nothing could have happened, or
does happen, or will happen, but what actually has
happened, or doth happen, or will happen ; and that
it is most false and absurd to deny it.” It is, there¬
fore, according to the necessarians, absolutely impos¬
sible, that at present there could exist upon this earth
more or fewer persons than are now actually alive 5
that the earth could move in any other direction than
from west to east; or that there could be more or
fewer planets in the solar system. Yet is it most cer¬
tain, that there have been fewer persons on the earth
than there are now} that there is not a cultivated
country in Europe which could not contain more people
than now inhabit it; that the comets move in very
different directions from that of west to east ; and that
as, till very lately, we conceived only six primary pla¬
nets in the system, it is e\i&ent\ypossible that the system
might contain no more. Upon the supposition, there¬
fore, that the Supreme Being acts under a physical
necessity, the same things are possible and not possible
at the same time, which is the grossest of all absurdities.
It might have been objected with much more plausi¬
bility, that the First Cause cannot possibly be free, be¬
cause he must needs do always what is best in the
whole ; but it will be seen by and by, that among dif¬
ferent created systems, there is no reason for supposing
any one absolutely best.
But though this Being be free, and as such the au¬
thor of change in other beings, yet he must himself be
unchangeable; for all changes have a beginning, and
consequently are effects of some prior causes. But there
can be nothing prior to the existence of this Being,
as he is eternal; neither any cause of it, as he is inde¬
pendent; nor consequently any change in it, except we
could suppose him to change himself, which is the same
absurdity as to produce himself, i. e. to be at the same
time both effect and cause.
Omniscience, as well as some of the foregoing attri¬
butes of the Supreme. Being, may perhaps be more
easily deduced thusf. We find in ourselves such quali¬
ties as thought and intelligence, power and freedom, &c.
for which we have the evidence of consciousness as
much as for our own existence. Indeed it is only by
our consciousness of these that our existence is known
to ourselves. We know likewise that these are per¬
fections, and that to have them is better than to be
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
305
iselt' uu
mge-
306
missi¬
ve, &c.
ved in
ifierent
nner.
<otts to
'1? on
it. ■
H Y S I C S. 681
without them. We find also that they have not been Ofthe Be-
in us from eternity. They must, therefore, have had ing and At -
a beginning, and consequently some cause, for the very tnbutes oi‘
same reason that a being beginning to exist in time re- ,
quires a cause. Now this cause, as it must be superior
to its effect, must have those perfections in a superior
degree ; and if it be Ww first cause, it must have them
in an infinite or unlimited degree, since bounds, or limi¬
tation without a limiter, would, as we have already
shown, he an effect without a cause.
It is indeed obvious, that the omniscience of the Su¬
preme Being is implied in his very existence. “ For
all things being not only present to him, hut also en¬
tirely depending upon him, and having received both
their being itself and all their powers and faculties from
him, it is manifest that as he knows all things that are,
and penetrates every part of their substance with his all-
seeing eye, so must he likewise know all possibilities of
tilings, that is, all effects that can be. For, being alone
self-existent, and having alone given to all things all
the powers and faculties with which they are endued, _
it is evident that he must of necessity know perfectly
what all and each of these powers and faculties, which
are derived wholly from himself, can possibly produce.
And seeing at one boundless view, or more proper¬
ly in his own ideas, all the possible compositions and
divisions, variations and changes, circumstances and
dependencies of things, all their possible relations one
to another, and their dispositions or fitnesses to certain
and respective ends, he must without possibility of
error know exactly what is best and properest in every
one ol the numberless possible cases, or methods of dis¬
posing things 5 and understand perfectly how to or¬
der and direct the respective means to bring about
what he so knows to be in its kind, or on the whole,
the best and fittest in the end. This is what is meant
by infinite wisdom, or omniscience * and it has * Clarke's
been readily admitted by every man who has believed Demon¬
in the existence of a God, as the creator and preserver fradon,
of all things. &c’ Q
Doubts, however, have been entertained bytheists,Godfore-
and pious theists, whether omniscience itself can certain-knows the
ly foreknow what are called contingent events, such act*ons °*
as the actions of free agents ; and some few there are ’
professing to be even Christians, who have boldly pro¬
nounced such knowledge to be impossible. That we
have no adequate notion how events, which are called
contingent, can be certainly foreknown, must indeed
be granted ; but wre are not, therefore, authorized to
say that such knowledge is impossible, unless it can be
clearly shown to imply a conti'adietion. They who
suppose that it implies a contradiction, must likewise
suppose, that, where there is not a chain of necessary
causes, there can be no certainty of any future event $
hut this is evidently a mistake. “ For let us suppose
that there is in man a powTer of beginning motion, and
of acting with what has been of late called philosophical
freedom ; and let us suppose farther that the actions of
such a man cannot possibly he foreknown ; will there
not yet be in the nature of things, notwithstanding this
supposition, the same certainty of event in every one of
the man’s actions, as if they were ever so fatal and ne¬
cessary ? For instance, suppose the man, by an internal
principle of motion, and an absolute freedom of mind,
to do some particular action to-day, and suppose it
4 R was
682
METAPHYSICS.
Part III,
Of the Be- was not possible that this action should have been forc¬
ing and At-seen yesterday, was there not nevertheless the same
tribute* of certainty of event as if it had been foreseen, and abso-
. r^ ' , lately necessary P That is, would it not have been as
certain a truth yesterday, and from eternity, that this
action was in event to l>eperformed to-day, notwithstand¬
ing the supposed freedom, as it is now a certain and
infallible truth that it is performed ? Mei'e certainty of
event, therefore, does not in any measure imply neces-
* Clarke's st'ty And surely it implies no contradiction to
Demon- suppose, that every future event which in the nature
stration. of things is now certain, may now be certainly known
by that intelligence which is omniscient. The manner
how God can foreknow future events, without a chain
of necessary causes, it is indeed impossible for us to ex¬
plain : yet some sort of general notion of it we may con¬
ceive. “ For, as a man who has no influence over an¬
other person’s actions, can yet often perceive before¬
hand what that other will do and a wiser and more
experienced man, with still greater probability will fore¬
see what another, with whose disposition he is perfect-
f Clarke's
Demon¬
stration,
&tc.
308
God infi¬
nitely per¬
fect, all-
sufficient,
and omni¬
present.
ly acquainted, will in certain circumstances do j and
an angel, with still less degrees of error, may have a
further prospect into men’s future actions : so it is
very reasonable to conceive, that God, without in¬
fluencing men’s wills by his power, or subjecting them
to a chain of necessary causes, cannot but have a know¬
ledge of future free events, as much more certain than
men or angels can possibly have, as the perfection of his
nature is greater than that of theirs. The distinct man¬
ner how he foresees these things we cannot, indeed, ex¬
plain j but neither can we explain the manner of num¬
berless other things, of the reality of which, however,
no man entertains a doubtf.” We must therefore
admit, so long as we perceive no contradiction in it,
that God always knows all the free actions of men, and
all other beings endued with liberty } otherwise he
would know many things now of which he was once
ignorant, and consequently his omniscience would re¬
ceive addition from events, which has been already
shown to be contrary to the true notion of infinity.—
In a being incapable of change, knowledge has no¬
thing to do with before or after. To every purpose of
knowledge and power, all things are to him equally
present. He knows perfectly every thing that is, and
what to us is future he knows in the very same manner
as be knows what to us is present.
Thus have we demonstrated the necessary existence
of a being who is eternal, independent, unchangeable,
omnipotent, free in his actions, and omniscient; and this
is the being whom we worship as God. Eternity, in¬
dependence, immutability, omnipotence, liberty, and om¬
niscience, which seem to be all the natural attributes
which we can discover in the divine nature, as they are
conceived to be differently combined, make us speak of
him in different terms. His enjoying in an absolute
manner every conceivable power or perception, makes
us call him a Being infinitely perfect. His being capa¬
ble of no want, defect, or unhappiness of any kind, de¬
notes him to be all sufficient in himself; and the unlimit¬
ed exercise of his knowledge and power, demonstrates
him to be omnipresent. That such a Being must be in¬
comprehensible by us, and by every creature, is a truth
self-evident j and yet in all ages men of the best inten¬
tions have been vainly attempting this impossibility.
The manner of his omniscience, for instance, has been Of theBe-
the subject of much disputation among those who ought big and At
to have reflected that they know not how their own tni)utes of
minds were present to their own bodies.—The cele- Go(i‘
brated Dr Clarke and his adherents, who considered ' ~
space as the sine qua non of all other things, insisted,
that God must be infinitely extended j and that, as
wherever his substance is, there his attributes must be,
it is thus that his knowledge and power are present
with every creature. But this notion labours under
insuperable difficulties.
For “ if the Divine substance be infinitely extended, The maa-
then will there be part of it in this place and part inner of the
that. It must be commensurate with all particular c^v^ne om-
beings, so that some will occupy more and some ssineonipreE
of its dimensions. By this account it will be very pro-hensiblc.
per and philosophical to say, that God is not in heaven,
but only a part of him : and that an elephant or a
mountain, a whale or a wicked giant, have more of the
essence or presence of God with them, than the holiest
or best man in the world, unless he be of equal size :
all which, as has been well observed*, are at least harsh * Watt's
and grating expressions. As the attributes of the Di--Essays, anj
vine Being must be considered in the same manner with Eaufs /«-1
his substance, we shall likewise, upon this notion of^fy^0!
omnipresence, have a part of his knowledge and power uj
in this place, and a part of them in that; and of these 'L’ime, foil
parts the one must be greater or less than the other,
according to the dimensions of the place with which
it is commensurate j which is a supposition that appears
to us harsher, if possible, than even the former.
“ Should it be said that the divine attributes are
not to be considered as having parts (though we see
not how they can be considered otherwise than as their
subject), they must then exist completely in every point
of this immense expansion. Be it so j and what
follow's ? Why, every point of this infinitely expanded
being will be omniscient and omnipotent by himself j
an inch of it will have as much wisdom and power as
a yard, a mile, or the whole 5 and, instead of one in¬
finite wisdom and power, we shall have millions : For
as these parts of the substance are conceived distinctly,
and one individual part is not another, so must the
attributes be likewise conceived, and the individual
powrer and knowledge of one part be distinct from that
of another.” And if so, it follows, that one point of
this expanded being has equal power and intelligence
with the whole ; so that the notion of extension being
necessary to God’s presence with every creature, in¬
volves in it the most palpable contradiction. That
God is at all times and in all places so present with
every creature as to have an absolute knowledge of
and power over it, is indeed capable of the strictest
demonstration ; but we think it great presumption to
assign the particular mode of his presence, especially
such a one as is neither agreeable to the nature of an
absolutely perfect Being, nor in the least necessary to
the exercise of any one perfection which he can be
proved to possess. Philosophers and divines have of¬
fered several names for the manner in which God is
present with his works 5 but we choose rather to con¬
fess, that the manner of his presence is to us, and pro¬
bably to every creature, wholly incomprehensible. Nor
need we be surprised or staggered at this, when we
reflect that the manner in which our own minds are
present
tgc I to.
310
od's mo-
1 attri-
ites re-
it from
. natural
;hap. VI. M E T A P
t'thc Be- present with our bodies is to us as incomprehensible as
^ and At the manner in which the supreme Mind is present with
rilGodSOt eveiy thing ^ie diverse. That our minds have a
, power over our limbs, we know by experience : but
that they are not extended or substantially diffused
th rough them, is certain } because men daily lose arms
and legs, without losing any part of their understanding,
or feeling their energies of volition in the smallest de¬
gree weakened. But we need pursue this subject no
Ifr briber. It has been confessed by one of the most stre-
n'sExut- uuous advocates* lor the extension of the Deity and all
we ami minds, that ‘£ there is an incomprehensibleness in the
nitj, &c. manner of every thing, about which no controversy can
,T" or ought to be concerned.”
The moral attributes of God may be deduced from
his natural ones, and are immediate consequences of
them when exercised on other beings. They may be
termed his secondary relative attributes, as they seem
ifectioiis to ^ie Perfection of his external acts rather than any
new internal perfections. And though the existence
of any moral quality or action is not capable of strict
demonstration, because every moral action or quality, as
such, depends upon the will of the agent, which must
be absolutely free ; yet we have as great assurance that
there are moral qualities in God, and that he will al¬
ways act according to these qualities, as the nature of
the thing admits ; and may be as well satisfied of it,
as if it were capable of the most rigid demonstration.
This important point, however, cannot be so clearly
or so firmly established by abstract reasoning as by tak¬
ing a scientific view of the works of creation, which
evince the goodness, holiness, and justice of their
Author, as well as his perfect wisdom and infinite
power. The consideration, therefore, of the moral
attributes of God, together with his providence, and
the duties thence incumbent on man, is the proper
business of other articles (see Heligion, Theology,
and Moral Philosophy.
owthey At present we shall only observe, that by reasoning
ght to a priori from his existence and his natural perfections,
conceiv-We must necessarily infer that his actions are the result
of unmixed benevolence. Every wise agent has some
end in view in all his actions; it being the very essence
of folly to act for no end : but there cannot be an end
of action which is not either selfish or benevolent.
Selfishness is the offspring of want and imperfection,
and is therefore the source of most human actions;
because men are weak and imperfect beings, capable
of daily additions to their happiness. When the thief
plunders a house at midnight, when the highwayman
robs a traveller on the road, and even when the as¬
sassin murders the man who never injured him ; it will
be found that their actions spring not from an innate
desire to. inflict misery upon others, but from a pro¬
spect of reaping advantage to themselves. The object
of the thief and the robber is obvious : it is to gain
money, which is the mean of procuring the comforts
of life. Even the assassin has always the same selfish
.end in view : either he is bi-ihcd to commit the murder,
or he fancies that his hori’id deed will remove an ob¬
stacle from the way to his owrn happiness. But they
are not vicious men only who act from selfish considera¬
tions : much of human virtue, when traced to its
source, will be found to have its origin in the desire
H Y S I C S. 6S3
ol happiness. When a man gives Lis money to iced oftiie E«-
the hungry and to clothe the naked, he believes that in^ and At-
he is acting agreeably to the wrill of Him to whom he tiitutes ol‘
and the poor stand in the same relation ; and he looks , ,
for a future and eternal reward. By continuing the
practice, he soon acquires the habit of benevolence ;
after which, indeed, he looks for no further reward,
when performing particular actions, than the imme*
diate pleasure of doing good. This selfishness of man
is the necessary consequence of his progressive state.
But the Being who is independent, omnipotent, om¬
niscient, and, in a word, possessed of every possible
perfection, is incapable of progression, or of having
any accession whatever made to his happiness. He is
immutable; and must of necessity have been as happy
from eternity, when existing alone, as after the crea¬
tion of ten thousand worlds. When, therefore, he
willed the existence of other beings, he could have no¬
thing in view but to communicate some resemblance of
his own perfections and happiness. That he had some
end in view, follows undeniably from his infinite wis¬
dom. That he could not have a selfish end, follows
with equal certainty from his own infinite perfections ;
and as there is no medium, in the actions of a wise Be¬
ing, between selfishness and benevolence, wre must ne¬
cessarily conclude, that the creation was the result of
unmixed benevolence or perfect goodness. The other
moral attributes of the Deity, his justice, mercy and
truth, ought therefore only to be considered as so
many different views of the same goodness in the
Creator, and various sources of happiness to the crea¬
ture. These are always subordinate to and regulated
by this one principal perfection and brightest ray of the
Divinity.
“ rlhus we conceive his justice to be exerted on any
being no farther than his goodness necessarily requires,
in order to make that being, or others, sensible of the
heinous nature and pernicious effects of sin *, and there- * Notes to
by to bring them to as great a degree of happiness as King on
their several natures are capable of. His holiness hates ^‘vd-
and abhors all wickedness, only as its necessary conse¬
quences are absolute and unavoidable misery ; and his
veracity or faithfulness seems to be concerned for truth,
only because it is connected with and productive of the
happiness of all rational beings ; to provide the proper-
est means for attaining which great end, is the exercise
of his wisdom." Such is the view of God’s moral at¬
tributes, which the abstract contemplation of his natural
perfections necessarily gives ; and whether this way of
conceiving them be not attended with less difficulty
than the common manner of treating them under the
notion of two infinites diametrically opposite, must be
left to the judgment of the reader.
But if the Creator and supreme Governor of all xiie^uteia
things be a Being of infinite power, perfect wisdom, 0f evil. * ~
and pure benevolence, how came evil into the works
of creation ? This is a question which has employed
the speculative mind from the first dawning of philo-
sophy, and will continue to employ it till our facul¬
ties be enlarged in a future state, when philosophy
shall give place to more perfect knowledge. To these i
meditations, as has been wrell observed J, humanity is a frccln-
not equal. Volumes have been written on the sub- quiry into
ject; but we believe that the following extract fromtlie Origin
4 B 2 ^ of Evil.
684
METAPHYSICS.
Part III.
Of Cue Re-Dr Clai'ke contains all that can be advanced with cer-
ing and At- tainty. and all that is necessary to vindicate the ways of
God toman.
“ All that we call evil (says that able reasoncr f),
f Demon- is either an evil of imperfection, as the wrant of certain
etration of faculties and excellencies which other creatures have 5
^ancPAitri or tiaiurul evil, as pain, death, and the like 5 or moral
bides of evil, as all kinds of vice. 'Wv first of these is not pro-
God. " perly an evil : for every power, faculty, or perfec¬
tion, which any creature enjoys, being the free gift of
God, which he was no more obliged to bestow than
he -was to confer being or existence itself, it is plain,
that the want of any certain faculty or perfection
in any kind of creatures, which never belonged to
their nature, is no more an evil to them, than their
never having been created or brought into being at all
could properly be called an evil.” To this we may
add, that as no created being can be self-existent and
independent, imperfection is unavoidable in the crea¬
tion, so that the evil of defect (as it is most absurdly
called) must have been admitted, or nothing could
ever have existed but God. “ The second kind of evil,
which we call natural evil, is either a necessary conse¬
quence of the former, as death to a creature on whose
nature immortality was never conferred j and then it is
no more properly an evil than the former : Or else it is
counterpoised in the whole with as great or greater
good, as the afflictions and sufferings of good men : and
then also it is properly no evil. Or else it is a punish¬
ment ; and then it is a necessary consequence of the
third and last sort of evil, viz. moral evil. And this
arises wholly from the abuse of liberty, which God gave
to his creatures for other purposes, and which it was
reasonable and fit to give them for the perfection and
order of the whole creation : only they, contrary to
God’s, intention and command, have abused what wras
necessary for the perfection of the whole, to the cor¬
ruption and depravation of themselves. And thus have
all sorts of evils entered into the world, without any
diminution to the infinite goodness of its Creator and
Governor.”
Whether But though evil could not be totally excluded from
the present the universe, are w?e not authorized to infer, from the
he the best infinite power, wisdom, and goodness of the Creator,
Lihkm ^ie PreseiA system is upon the whole the very best
system possible ? Undoubtedly w e are, if of possible
systems there can be a best: but this is so far from be¬
ing evident, that we think it implies a contradiction.
A best of beings there is, viz. God, who is possess¬
ed of infinite perfections j but there cannot be a best of
creatures or of created systems. To prove this, we
need only reflect, that wdierever creation stops, it
must stop infinitely shefrt of infinity 5 and that how
perfect soever we conceive any creature or system
of creatures to be, yet the distance between that
and God is not lessened but continues infinite. Hence
it follows that the nature of God and his omnipo¬
tence is such, that whatever number of creatures he
has made, he may still add to that number 5 and
that however good or perfect the system may be on
the whole, he might still make others equally good and
perfect.
The dispute, whether a being of infinite power,
wisdom, and benevolence, must be supposed to have
created the best possible system, and the embarrassment of
AM,
Origin of
that que¬
stion.
men’s understandings about it, seem to have arisen from Ofthe Be.
their taking the words good, better, and best, for abso-ing and At
lute qualities inherent in the nature of things, whereas tributes os
in truth they are only relations arising from certain ap-1 Go(i'
petites. They have indeed a foundation, as all rela¬
tions have, in something absolute, and denote the thing
in which they are founded 5 but yet they themselves
imply nothing more than a relation of congruity between
some appetite and its objects. This is evident; be¬
cause the same object, when applied to an appetite to
which it has a congruity, is good ; and bad, when ap¬
plied to an appetite to which it has no congruity. Thus,
the earth and air to terrestrial animals are good elements,
and necessary to their preservation : to those animals
the water is bad, which yet affords the best recep¬
tacle to fishes. Good, therefore, being relative to
appetite, that must be reckoned the best creature by
us which lias the strongest appetites, and the surest
means of satisfying them all, and securing its own per¬
manent happiness. And though the substance of crea¬
tures is chiefly to be regarded as contributing to their
perfection, yet we have no wTay of measuring the per¬
fection of different substances but by their qualities,
i. e. by their appetites by which they are sensible of
good and evil, and by their powers to procure those ob¬
jects from which they receive that sense of things which
makes them happy. ^
It is plain, therefore, that whatever system we sup- No system
pose in nature, God might have made another equal absolutely
to it 5 his infinite wisdom and power being able tobcst*
make other creatures equal in every respect to any
that we know or can conceive, and to give them equal
or stronger appetites, and as certain or more certain
ways of satisfying them. We see in many cases, that
very different means will answer the same end. A cer¬
tain number of regular pyramids will fill a space j and
yet irregular ones will do it as well, if what we take
from the one be added to another j and the same thing
may be done by bodies of the most irregular and dif¬
ferent figures in the same manner : and therefore we
may very well conceive, that the answering of appe¬
tites, which is all the natural good that is in the world,
may as well be obtained in another system as in this $
provided we suppose, that where the appetites of the
sentient beings are changed, the objects are also suited
to them, and an equal congruity among the parts of the
whole introduced. This is so easily conceived, that in
an indefinite number of possible worlds, we do not see
why it may not be done in numberless ways by infinite
power and wisdom. 316
If then it be plain, that there might have been many God notut
other worlds, or even but one, equal to this in j^his^owi
respects as to goodness, there could be no necessity, ness^o m
either physical or moral, that God should create the ate thepre
one rather than the other j because nothing could sent in pre
make the one better, or to him more agreeable, than feren^e t0
the other, but his own free choice. Either, there-aor^ser
fore, God must be possessed of absolute freedom, or,
among a number of possibilities equally perfect, he
could not have made a choice, and so nothing would
ever have been created. It is not, then, as Leibnitz
and others argue, the natural and necessary goodness of
some particular things, represented by the divine ideas,
which determines God to prefer them to all others, if
understood of his first act of producing them j hut it
!iap. VI. M E T A P
the Be- *s his own free t lsoiee wluclt, among many equal po-
aml At- tcntial goods, makes some things actually good, and de-
imtrs os termines them into existence. When those are once
^' . supposed to exist, every thing or action becomes good
which tends to their happiness and preservation ; and
to suppose their all-perfect Author to have any other
end in view than their preservation and happiness,
is the same absurdity as to suppose that knowledge
may produce ignorance } power, weakness j or wisdom
folly.
We have now finished what we proposed under the
article Metaphysics. It has swelled in our hands to
a large extent; and yet it can be considered as little
H Y SICS. 685
more than an introduction to that science, which com-Qf the Be-
preliends within its wide grasp every thing existing, inpand At-
rI lie reader who wishes to pursue these interesting tributes of
speculations, should study diligently the authors whom
wre have consulted, and to whom v’e have been care¬
ful to refer in the margin. Were we to make a selec¬
tion, vTe should without hesitation recommend Aristotle
and Plato among the ancients j and Cudworth, Locke,
Hartley, and Reid, among the moderns. These philo¬
sophers, indeed, on many points, differ exceedingly from
one another j but he who wishes not to aderpt opinions
at random, should know what can he said on Loth sides
of every question.
M E T
tapias- METAPLASMUS, in Grammar, a transmutation
mus or cfUU)ge made in a word, by adding, retrenching, or
tastasio altering a syllable or letter thereof.
-V—j METAPONTUM, or Metapontium, in Ancient
Geography, a town of Lucania, on the Sinus Tarenti-
nus, to the west of Tarentum •, built by the Pylians
who returned from Troy *, and where Pythagoras is said
to have taught in the time of Scrvius Tullius. Meta-
pontint, the people ; who pretended to show in a temple
of Minerva, the tools with which Epeus built the wooden
horse, (Justin). Now a tower, called Torre di Mare,
in the Basilicata of Naples.
METASTASIO, L’Abbe Pierre Bonaven-
TURE, a celebrated Italian poet, whose real name
was Trapassi, was horn at Assise, on January 3d,
1698. His talent for poetry was first unfolded
by the reading of Tasso •, and he began to compose
verses at ten years of age. “ A prodigy of this
nature (says Metastasio) made such an impression on
my master, the celebrated Gravina, that he thence¬
forth considered me as a plant worthy of being culti¬
vated by his own hands.” Metastasio was only four¬
teen years of age when he composed his tragedy en¬
titled II Giustino; in which he appears too close and
scrupulous an imitator of the Grecian drama. Our
young poet unfortunately lost his patron in 1717;
who left him his heir, “ as being a young man of the
most promising abilities.” Metastasio, at the age of
nineteen, being, in consequence of this inheritance,
superior to those wants which repress the exertions of
genius, and to which men of abilities are too often
subject, gave full scope to his inclination for poetry.
He began his dramatic career with the Didonne Aban-
dinnata, which ivas acted at Naples in 1724? the mu¬
sic was composed by Sarro. He soon acquired such
celebrity, that in 1729 he was invited to Vienna by
the emperor Charles VI.; who appointed him impe¬
rial poet, and granted him a pension of 4000 florins.
From that time some of his works were presented at
every court festival *, and notwithstanding the extreme
magnificence of these entertainments, they would now
be forgotten were it not for the verses which he com¬
posed upon the occasion. The courts ot Vienna and
Madrid vied with each other in the presents which they
conferred upon him. From Maria Theresa he received
a Snuff-box and a port-folio set with diamonds, and
MET
a golden candlestick with a screen. Ferdinand VI*Metastasio.
king of Spain, informed of the great merit of Meta- ‘ 1 " v
stasio by Farinelli, of whom he was a passionate ad¬
mirer, sent him a present of a casket mounted with
gold, and furnished with the different implements of
writing. This favourite of kings and of the muses
was of a cheerful temper, and was exceedingly tempe¬
rate : to this he was probably indebted for the unin¬
terrupted health which lie enjoyed, and for the entire
possession of his senses and faculties to the most advan¬
ced period of old age. He took his meals, arose, and
went to bed, always at stated hours. This exactness
and order were scrupulously observed even in the most
trifling actions of his life. He used to say in jest, that
he dreaded hell for no other reason hut because it was
a place ubi nidlus ordo, sed sempiternus horror in¬
habitat. He had even his stated hours for making
verses j to which he scrupulously adhered, without
waiting for the moment of poetical enthusiasm. He
was equally regular in the duties of the Christian as in
the labours of the scholar. His behaviour was that of
a true philosopher: his ambition extended no farther
than the attainment of literary fame ; and he despised
every civil mark of distinction. When Charles VI. of¬
fered him the title of Count or of Baron, which add no
real worth or dignity to the possessor, but frequently
make him appear in a more ridiculous light, he instant¬
ly begged the favour that he would allow him still to
continue Metastasio. The empress Maria Theresa af¬
terwards wished to bestow upon him the small cross of
St Stephen ; but he excused himself on account of his
age, which would prevent him from assisting at the fes¬
tivals of the order. He was attacked by a fever on the
2d of April 1782 j and he died on the 12th of the same
month, at the age of 84. Before his death he received
the sacrament according to the form of the Romish
church ; and Pius VI. who was then at Vienna, sent
him his apostolical benediction in articulo mortis. He
left about 150,000 florins. He composed a great num¬
ber of tragic operas, and several small dramatic pieces
which have been set to music. We have different edi¬
tions of them in 4to, 8vo, and 12ino ; and M. Riche-
let has published a translation of them into French, in
12 vols. small i2mo.
The greatest part of Metastasio’s writings will con¬
fer immortality on their author. His dialogue is na¬
tural,
M E T
[ 686 1
M E T
At<M;::-.task>. tural, simple, and easy; his style is always pure and
s——v—elegant, and sometimes sublime and pathetic. His
subjects are noble, interesting, and excellently adapt¬
ed for representation. He was perfectly acquainted
with the resources of his art, and has subjected the
opera to rules. He stripped it of its machinery,
and of the marvellous, which was fitted to excite
the gaze of astonishment, but which gave no instruc¬
tion to the understanding, and made no impression
on the heart. His descriptions are copied from na¬
ture ; the situations of his characters never fail to
raise an interest in the reader, and often excite the
tear of pity. His fables are celebrated; his charac¬
ters are noble and well supported; his plots are ex¬
cellently conducted, and happily unravelled. “ There
are scenes (says Voltaire) worthy of Corneille when
he does not declaim, and of Racine when he is not
feeble.” His operas, in point of the pathetic, may
be compared with our finest tragedies ; and may be
read with great pleasure, independent of the charms
of the music. We must not, however, expect to find
in Metastasio that exact regularity, and that fertile
simplicity, which constitutes the excellence of some
of our tragic poets : But though he sometimes trans¬
gresses the unities of time and place, he always pre¬
serves the unity of interest. Notwithstanding all
these advantages, some critics will not allow him the
merit of invention, which is the first qualification of
a poet. They consider him only as a successful imita¬
tor of the French tragic writers, from whom a great
part of his beauties are borrowed, and place him at
the head of the finest wits in Italy, hut deny that he
possessed genius. He was a fond admirer of the an¬
cients ; and this admiration, increasing with the soli¬
dity of his understanding, continued to the last period
of his life. Pie recommended reading them, as he
himself had done, in a chronological order. His me¬
mory was excellent, and continued unimpaired even in
old age. Horace wras his favourite author, and he
could repeat almost the whole of his verses. Metastasio,
■who, as we have observed, was the .-pupil of the cele¬
brated Gravina, added a gentleness of character pecu¬
liar to himself to the accuracy of thinking and great
erudition of his master. . His abilities and fame were
respected by the critics in general ; and whereas the
life of most men of letters is one continued warfare,
his days happily glided away in tranquillity and peace.
The circumstance which occasioned the change of his
name is thus related in a late anecdote : “ Gravina’s
barber, who, like most of his profession, yvas a great
talker, one day informed him, that in the Place de la
Valicellay where he had his shop, a young boy came
every evening, and sung extempore verses of his own
composition, so harmonious and elegant that all the
passengers stopped to listen to them. Gravina, upon
this information, added one to the number of the
young poet’s audience, and found the verses so supe¬
rior tu the idea which he had formed of them from
the account of the barber, and so much above the ca¬
pacity of a child of ten or eleven years of age, that
he instantly determined to undertake the cultivation of
so promising a plant. His first care was to put the
young Trapcssf (which was the boy’s name) to school ;
but apprehending that the ordinary methods of edu¬
cation might check the. progress of so uncommon ta-
Metidlk
lents, he took him home to his own house, and chan- Metastu
ged his name into Metastasio, which signifies the same
thing in Greek. In short, by a plan of education and
by instructions suited to his genius, Gravina laid the
foundation of that reputation which he predicted, and
which Metastasio now enjoys.” Vies desHominesM-
lustrcs d'Italic, tom. i. p. 187.
METASTASIS, in Medicine, a transposition or
settlement of some humour or disease in some other
part; and sometimes it signifies such an alteration of a
disease as is succeeded by a solution.
METATARSUS ( tifflx, beyond, and txofoc, the
tarsus'), in anatomy, that part of the human skeleton
containing the middle of the foot. See Anatomy
Index.
METATHESIS, in Grammar, a species of the
metaplasmus; being a figure whereby the letters or
syllables of a word are transposed, or shifted out of
their usual situations, as pistris for pristis, Lybia for
Libya, &c.
This word is, by physicians, used with respect to
morbific causes, which when they cannot he evacuat¬
ed, are removed to places where they are less injuri¬
ous.
METE LIN, the modern name of the island of Les¬
bos. See Lesbos and Mitylene.
In the Irish Philosophical Transactions for 1789,
we have a description of this island by the earl of
Charlemont, in which he speaks with raptures of its
beauties. “ The mountains, whose rugged tops ex¬
hibit a pleasing interspersion of rocks and fine groves,
have their green sides, for many miles along the coast,
covered with olives, whose less agreeable verdure is
corrected, embellished, and brightened by a lively
mixture of hays and laurels aspiring to the height
of forest trees, of myrtles and pomegranates, of ar-
butes rich at once in blossom and in berry, of mulber¬
ries growing wild and laden with fruit, &c. Winter is
here unknoivn, the verdure is perpetual, and the fre¬
quency of evergreens gives to December the colour of
June. The parching heat of summer is never felt; the
thick shade-of trees, and thousands of crystal springs
which everywhere arise and form themselves into un¬
numbered rivulets, joined to the refreshing sea breeze,
the constant corrective and companion of noontide heat,
qualify the burning air, and render the year a never-
ending May. The houses are constructed in such a
manner as to have the best view of these natural beauties.
Each is a square tower neatly built of hewn stone, so
high as to overtop the trees, and to command a view of
the sea ami neighbouring islands. The lower stories
are granaries and storehouses ; and the habitable apart¬
ments are all at the top, to which you ascend by a
stone stair, built for the most part on the outside, and
surrounding the toiver; so that from the apartment the
trees are overlooked, and the whole country is seen;
while the habitations themselves, which are very nu¬
merous, peering above the groves, add life and variety
to the enchanting prospect, and give an air of human
population to these woodlands, which might otherwise
be supposed the region of Dryads, of Naiads, and of
Satyrs.”
The most remarkable thing, however, in this island
is a custom by which the women have here openly
usurped those rights of sovereignty which in other
countries
MET [ 687 ] M E T
ktelin. •countries are supposed to belong essentially to the men.
~v——“ Contrary (says his lordship) to the usage of aU
other countries, the eldest daughter here inherits ; and
the sons, like daughters everywhere else, are por
tinned oft with small dowers, or, which is still worse,
turned out pennyless to seek their fortune. If a man
have two daughters, the eldest, at her marriage, is en¬
titled to all her mother’s possessions, which are by far
the greater part of the family estate, as the mother,
keeping up her prerogative, never parts with the
power over any portion of what she has brought into
the family, until she is forced into it by the marriage
of her daughter j and the father also is compelled to
ruin himself by adding whatever he may have scraped
together by his industry. The second daughter in¬
herits nothing, and is condemned to perpetual celi¬
bacy. She is styled a calogria, which signifies pro¬
perly a religious woman or nun, and is in effect a
menial servant to her sister, being employed by her
in any office she may think fit to impost, frequently
serving her as waitingmaid, as cook, and often in em¬
ployments still more degrading. She wears a habit
peculiar to her situation, which she can never change;
a sort of monastic dress, coarse, and of a dark brown.
One advantage, however, she enjoys over her sister,
that whereas the elder, before marriage, is never allow¬
ed to go abroad, or to see any man, her nearest re¬
lations only excepted, the calogria, except when em¬
ployed in domestic toil, is in this respect at perfect
liberty. But when the sister is married, the situation
of the poor calogria becomes desperate indeed, and
is rendered still more humiliating by the comparison
between her condition and that of her happy mistress.
The married sister enjoys every sort of liberty ; the
whole family fortune is hers, and she spends it as she
pleases 5 her husband is her obsequious servant, her fa¬
ther and mother are dependent upon her, she dresses
in a most magnificent manner, covered all over, ac¬
cording to the fashion of the island, with pearls and
with pieces of gold, which are commonly sequins j
thus continually carrying about her the enviable
marks of affluence and superiority, while the wretch¬
ed calogria follows her as a servant, arrayed in simple
homespun brown, and without the most distant hope
. cf ever changing her condition. Such a disparity
may seem intolerable, but what will not custom re¬
concile ? Neither are the misfortunes of the family yet
at an end. The father and mother, with what little is
left them, contrive by their industry to accumulate a se¬
cond little fortune 5 and this, if they should have a
third daughter, they are obliged to give to her upon her
marriage *, and the fourth, if thex-e should be one, be¬
comes her calogria, and so on through all the daugh¬
ters alternately. Whenever the daughter is marriage¬
able, she can by custom compel the father to procure
her a husband 5 and the mother, such is the power of
habit, is foolish enough to join her in teasing him
into an immediate compliance, though its consequen¬
ces must be equally fatal and ruinous to both of them.
From hence it happens, that nothing is more common
than to see the old father and mother reduced to the
utmost indigence, and even begging about the streets,
while their unnatural daughters are in affluence 5 and
we ourselves have frequently been shown the eldest
daughter parading it through the town in the greatest
I he sons, as soon as they are of an age to gain si
livelihood, are turned out of the family,sometimes with
a small present or portion, but more frequently with¬
out any thing to support them; and thus reduced,
they either endeavour to live by their labour, or, which
is more usual, go 011 board some trading vessel as sail¬
ors or as servants, remaining abroad till they have not
together some competency, and then return home to
marry and to be henpecked. Some few there are who,
taking advantage of the Turkish law, break through
this whimsical custom, who marjry their calogrias, and
retain to themselves a competent provision : but these
aie accounted men of a singular and even criminal dis¬
position, and are hated and despised as conformists ten
i urkish manners, and deserters of their native customs ;
so that we may suppose they are few indeed who have
the boldness to depart from the manners of their coun¬
try to adopt the customs of their detested masters, and
to brave the contempt, the derision, and the hatred,
of their neighbours and fellow-citizens.
“ Of all these extraordinary particulars I was in-
foimed by the French consul, a man of sense and of
indisputable veracity, who had resided in this island
for several years, and who solemnly assured me that
eveiy circumstance was true : but indeed our oivn ob¬
servation left us without the least room for doubt, and
the singular appearance and deportment of the ladies
fully evinced the truth of our friend’s relation. In
walking through the town, it is easy to perceive, from
the whimsical manners of the female passengers, that
the women, according to the vulgar phrase, wear the
breeches. I hey frequently stopped us in the streets,
examined our dress, interrogated us with a bold and
manly air, laughed at our foreign garb and appearance;
and showed so little attention to that decent modesty
which is or ought to be the true characteristic of the
sex, that there is every reason to suppose they would,
in spite of their haughtiness, be the kindest ladies up¬
on earth, if they were not strictly watched by the
Turks, who are here very numerous, and would be
ready to punish any transgression of their ungallant
laws with arbitrary fines. But nature and native man¬
ners will often baiRe the efforts even of tyranny. In
all their customs these manly ladies seem to have
changed, sexes with the men. The woman rides
astride, the man sits sideways upon the horse; nay, I
have been assured that the husband’s distinguishing ap¬
pellation is his wife’s family name. The women have
town and country houses, in the management of which
the husband never dares interfere. rI heir gardens, their
servants, are all their own; and the husband, from eve-
ry circumstance of his behaviour, appears to be no other
than his wife’s first domestic, perpetually bound to
her service, and slave to her caprice. Hence it is that
a tradition obtains in the country, that this island was'
formerly inhabited by Amazons; a tradition, how¬
ever, founded upon no ancient history that I knew of.
Sappho indeed, the most renowned female that this
island has ever produced, is said to have had manly
inclinations ; in which, as Lucian informs us, she did.
but conform with the singular manners of her country¬
women: but I do not find that the mode in whiclf
she
MET [ 688 ] M E T
Metelin.
slie chose to show these inclinations is imitated by the
present femaje inhabitants, who seem perfectly con¬
tent with the dear prerogative of absolute sway, with¬
out endeavouring in any other particular to change
the course of nature yet will this circumstance serve
to show7, that the women of Lesbos had always some¬
thing peculiar, and even peculiarly masculine, in their
manners and propensities. But be this as it may, it
is certain that no country whatsoever can afi'ord a more
perfect idea of an Amazonian commonwealth, or bet¬
ter serve to render probable those ancient relations
which our manners would induce us to esteem incre¬
dible, than this island of Metelin. These lordly ladies
are for the most part very handsome in spite of their
dress, which is singular and disadvantageous. Down
to the girdle, which as in the old Grecian garb is
raised far above what we usually call the waist, they
wear nothing but a shift of thin and transparent gauze,
red, green, or brown, through which every thing is
visible, their breasts only excepted, which they cover
with a sort of handkerchief •, and this, as we are in¬
formed, the Turks have obliged them to wear, while
they look upon it as an encumbrance, and as no in¬
considerable portion of Turkish tyranny. Long sleeves
of the same thin material perfectly show their arms
even to the shoulder. Their principal ornaments are
chains of pearl, to which they hang small pieces of
gold coin. Their eyes are large and fine ; and tho
nose, which we term Grecian, usually prevails among
them, as it does indeed among the women of all these
islands. Their complexions are naturally fine ; but they
spoil them by paint, of which they make abundant
use *, and they disfigure their pretty faces by shaving
the hinder part of the eyebrow, and replacing it with
a straight line of hair neatly applied with some sort of
gum, the brow being thus continued in a straight and
narrow line till it joins the hair on each side of their
face. They are well made, of the middle size, and
for the most part plump; but they are distinguished
by nothing so much and so universally as by a haughty,
disdainful, and supercilious air, with which they seem
to look down upon all mankind as creatures of an in¬
ferior nature, born for their service, and doomed to
be their slaves ; neither does this peculiarity of coun¬
tenance in any degree diminish their natural beauty,
but rather adds to it that sort of bewdtehing attraction
which the French c%S\. piquant.'1'1
His lordship has been at great pains to investigate
the origin of such a singular custom •, but is unable to
find any other example in history than that of the Ly-
cians, who called themselves by the names of their
mothers, and not of their fathers. When asked by their
neighbours who they were ? they described themselves
by their maternal genealogy. If a gentlewoman should
marry a slave, the children by that marriage were ac¬
counted noble ; but should the first man among them
marry a foreign woman, the children would be ac¬
counted ignoble. This custom is mentioned by several
ancient authors. A difficulty of no little magnitude
occurs, however, in accounting for the derivation of
the inhabitants of Lesbos from the Lycians. This is
solved in the following manner: In times of the most
remote antiquity, the island of Lesbos was peopled by
l‘ie ^3e^asgb who, under their leader Xanthus, the son
of Trioppas king of Argos, first inhabited Lesbos:
i
previous to that time they had dwelt in a certain part j^j.,
of Lycia which they had conquered $ and in this coun- p ‘
try we may suppose they had learned the custom in Me temp:
question. chosk
METELLUS, the surname of the family of the
Csecilii at Rome, the most known of whom were
  —A general who defeated the Achseans, took
Thebes and invaded Macedonia, &c.—Q. Cseci-
lius, who rendered himself illustrious by his successes
against Jugurtha the Numidian king, from which he
was surnamed Numidicus. Another who saved from
the flames the palladium, when Vesta’s temple was
on fire. He was then high priest. He lost his sight
and one of his arms in the action; and the senate, to
reward his zeal and piety, permitted him always to
be drawn to the senate house in a chariot, an honour
which no one had ever before enjoyed. He also gained
a great victory over the Carthaginians, &c.—Q. Ca>
cilius Celer, another who distinguished himself by his
spirited exertions against Catiline. He married the
sister of Clodius, who disgraced him by her inconti¬
nence and lasciviousness. He died 57 years before
Christ. He was greatly lamented by Cicero, who
shed tears at the loss of one of his most faithful and
valuable friends. L. Csecilius, a tribune in the civil
wars of J. Caesar and Pompey. He favoured the cause
of Pompey, and opposed Caesar when he entered
Rome with a victorious army, fie refused to open
the gates ol Saturn’s temple, in which wrere deposited
great treasures j upon which they were broke open by
Caesar, and Metellus retired when threatened with
death. Q. Caecilms, a warlike general who conquered
C rete and Macedonia, and was surnamed Macedonicus.
He had four sons, of whom three were consuls, and
the other obtained a triumph, all during their father’s
lifetime. A general of the Roman armies against the
Sicilians and Carthaginians. Before he marched, he
offered sacrifices to all the gods except Vesta j for
which neglect the goddess was so incensed, that she
demanded the blood of his daughter Metella. When
Metella was going to be immolated, the goddess placed
a heifer in her place, and carried her to a temple at
Lanuvium, of which she became the priestess. Ano¬
ther surnamed Dalmaticus from his conquest over Dal¬
matia, A. U. C. 634.—Cimher, one of the conspira¬
tors against J. Caesar. It was he who gave the signal
to attack and murder the dictator in the senate house.
—Pius, a general in Spain against Sertorius, on whose
head he set a price of 100 talents and 20,000 acres of
land.
METEMPSYCHOSIS, (formed of pirci, “ be¬
yond,” and ip-J/vxa, “ I animate or enliven”), in the
ancient philosophy, the passage or transmigration of
the soul of a man, after death, into the body of some
other animal.
Pythagoras and his followers held, that after death
men’s souls passed into other bodies, of this or that
kind, according to the manner of life they had led.
II they had been vicious, they were imprisoned in the
bodies oi miserable beasts, there to do penance for se¬
veral ages : at the expiration whereof, they returned
afresh to animate men. But, if they lived virtuously,
some happier brute, or even a human creature, was to
be their lot.
What led Pythagoras into this opinion was, the
persuasion
MET [ 689 ] MET
etempsy- persuasion he had that the soul was not of a perishable
cliosis, nature : whence he concluded that it must remove in-
tetemp- f-0 some other body upon its abandoning this. Lucan
- - -1 treats this doctrine as a kind of officious lie, contrived
to mitigate the apprehension of death, by persuading
men that they only changed their lodging, and only
ceased to live to begin a new life.
Reuchlin denies this doctrine *, and maintains that
the metempsychosis of Pythagoras implied nothing
more than a similitude of manners, desires, and studies,
formerly existing in some person deceased, and now
revived in another alive. Thus when it was said that
Euphorbus was revived in Pythagoras, no more was
meant than that the martial virtue which had shone
in Euphorbus at the time of the Trojan war, was now,
in some measure, r-evived in Pythagoras, by reason of
the great respect he bore the athletce. For those peo¬
ple wonderipg how a philosopher should be so much
taken with men of the sword, he palliated the matter,
by saying, that the soul of Euphorbus, i. e. his genius,
disposition, and inclinations, were revived in him. And
this gave occasion to the report, that Euphorbus’s soul,
who perished in the Trojan war, had transmigrated in¬
to Pythagoras.
Ficinus asserts, that what Plato speaks of the migra¬
tion of a human soul into a brute, is intended allegori¬
cally, and is to be understood only of the manners,
affections, and habits, degenerated into a beastly na¬
ture by vice. Serranus, though he allows some force
to this interpretation, yet inclines rather to understand
the metempsychosis of a resurrection.
Pythagoras is said to have borrowed the notion of a
metempsychosis from the Egyptians 3 others say, from
the ancient Brachmans. It is still retained among the
Banians and other idolaters of India and China 3 and
makes the principal foundation of their religion. So
extremely are they higotted to it, that they not only
forbear eating any thing that has life, but many of
them even refuse to defend themselves from wild beasts.
They burn no wood, lest some little animalcule should
be in it: and are so very charitable, that they will re¬
deem from the hands of strangers any animals that they
find ready to be killed. See Pythagoreans.
METEMPTOSIS (from (tirct, post, and twctu,
each, “ I fall,”) a term in chronology, expressing the
solar equation, necessary to prevent the new moon
from happening a day too late. By which it stands
contradistinguished fromproemptosis, which signifies the
lunar equation, necessaiy to prevent the new moon from
happening a day too soon.
The new moons running a little backwards, that
is, coming a day too soon at the end of 312 years and
a half 3 by the proemptosis, a day is added every 300
years, and another every 2400 years : on the other
hand, by the metemptosis, a bissextile is suppressed each
134 years 3 that is, three times in 400 years. These
alterations are never made but at the end of each cen¬
tury 3 that period being very remarkable, and render¬
ing the practice of the calendar easy.
There are three rules for making this addition or
suppression of the bissextile day, and, by consequence,
for changing the index of the epacts. 1. When there
is a metemptosis without a proemptosis, the next fol¬
lowing or lower index must be taken. 2. When
there is a proemptosis without A metemptosis, the next
Yol. XIII. Part II. f
preceding or superior index is to be taken. 3. When
there are both a metemptosis and a proemptosis, or
when there is neither the one nor the other, the same
index is preserved. Thus, in 1600, we had D : in
1700, by reason of the metemptosis, C was taken :
in 1800, there was both a proemptosis, and a me¬
temptosis 3 so the same index was retained. In 1900,
there will he a metemptosis again, when B will be
taken : which will he preserved in 2000, because
there will then be neither the one nor the other. This
is as far as we need compute for it: But Clavius has
calculated a cycle of 301,800 years 3 at the end of
which period, the same indices return in the same order.
See Epact.
METEOR, (by the Greeks called q. d„
sublima or “ high raised 3” by the Latins impressioncs,
as making signs or impressions in the air), commonly
denotes any bodies in the air that are of a transitory
nature. Hence it is extended to the phenomena of
hail, rain, snow, thunder, &c. 3 hut is most commonly
confined to those unusual and fiery appearances named
falling stars, ignes fatui, aurora; boreales, &c. See
Meteorology.
METEOROLITE. This term is derived from the
Greek a meteor, and A/fo?, a stone ; and denotes
a stony substance, exhibiting peculiar characters, and
whose descent to the earth is usually accompanied bv
the appeai-ance and explosion of a fire-ball.
Luminous meteors have, in all ages, been observed
in the atmosphere. It is also well known that their
disappearance has frequently been attended with a loud
noise 3 hut that they should moreover terminate in the
fall ot one or more solid bodies to the earth’s surface,
is a position so repugnant to our ordinary conceptions
of the tenor of physical events, that we cannot admit
it as a fact on slight or scanty evidence. With due de¬
ference, however, to some philosophers of name, we
are not prepared to assert, that it implies impossibility.
For who has explored the higher regions of the at¬
mosphere ? or who knows what may take place beyond
its precincts ? If a solid result from the combination of
two aeriform substances, as muriatic acid and ammonia-
cal gases 3 if oxygen, the properties of which are most
familiar to us in the state of gas, can undergo fixation,
and if fluids can pass into crystalline forms, is it too
hold to presume, that the same, or similar processes,
effected in the grand laboratory of the atmosphere, may
be within the range of possible occurrences ? At all
events, the same Being who called into existence those
sublime and countless masses of matter which revolve in
Metemp¬
tosis
space, may, to serve purposes unknown to us, create
bodies of dimensions infinitely smaller, and destined to
impinge on some planetary orb. The reasoning of an
angel may not convince us, that a part is greater than
the whole, or that the value of two and tw'o is equiva¬
lent to six 3 but a very ordinary logician may prove to
our satisfaction, that the contact of particles of matter
in portions of space which lie beyond our globe, is no
chimerical supposition. Every thing around us pro¬
claims, that matter is subject to incessant change. New'
forms and new modifications are ever springing into be¬
ing : and can wre doubt, that the same particles, as
they may happen to be affected or influenced by vari
ous circumstances, may exist in the state of gas, of a-
queous vapour, or of a concrete mass ?
4 S Again,
M E T
[ 69° 1
M E T
Meteoro- Again, it sux-ely will not be seriously maintained,
lite. that, from the rarity of a phenomenon, we are war-
""“■V——' x-anted to infer its non-existence. The appeax-ance of a
comet is a rare, but not a fictitious, occurrence. Nay,
we may safely advance a step farther, and assert, with¬
out fear of confutation, that the existence of a pheno¬
menon, if otherwise well attested, cannot be disproved
by our inability to explain it. How multiplied, in
fact, are the subjects, even of our daily and hourly ob¬
servation, which we cannot satisfactorily expound ? AVe
cannot say why a small seed should gradually unfold in¬
to a lai’ge tree, why flame should produce heat, why
the hand should act in immediate subserviency to the
will, or why a contusion of the brain should induce
stupor, alienation of mind, or death. It is one thing
to prove a fact, and it is another to account for it.
Trom these premises it follows in course, that we are
not entitled to reject the existence of meteoric stones,
provided it be established by valid testimony. Should
the historical evidence, on a fair and dispassionate re¬
view, be deemed conclusive, we may afterwards ex¬
amine the theories which have been proposed lor the
solution of the appearance.
From the Scriptures of the Old Testament we are
not aware that any passage can be cited in direct cor¬
roboration of the descent of stones from the atmosphexe.
The ingenious and fanciful Mr Edward King, indeed,
in his “ Remarks concerning stones said to have lallen
from the clouds, both in these days, and in ancient
times,” adverts to the 13th verse of the 18th Psalm.—
“ The Lord also thundered out of heaven, and the Highest
gave his thunder: hail-stones and coals of fire.'1'1 ’1 his
last expression has, no doubt, been conjectured to de¬
note real hard bodies, in a state of ignition *, and the
term employed by the cautious Seventy, rather
favours such an interpretation. The same expi’ession,
however, occurs in the preceding verse, without ad¬
mitting this interpretation *, and the phrase seems to be
only a figurative mode of desciubing lightning. In the
sober latitudes of the north, and even in colloquial
language, we talk of balls of fire and thunderbolts,
without any reference to solid matter. Mr King like¬
wise quotes the nth verse of the 10th chapter of Jo¬
shua.—“ And it came to pass, as they fled from before
Israel, and were in the going down to Beth-horon, that
the Lord cast down great stones from heaven upon them
unto Azekah, and they died : there were more which
died with hail-stones, than they whom the children of
Israel slew with the sword.” Here, the expression,
great stones is less equivocal than coals of fire ; yet the
context hardly allows us to doubt, that the great stones
were really hail-stones, or rather, perhaps, lumps of
ice, consolidated in the atmosphere, such as occasional¬
ly fall in hot countries, and such as alarmed the whole
of Paris and its neighbourhood in 1788. At any rate,
the slaughter of the Canaanites is represented as result¬
ing from the special interposition of divine power ;
and the consideration of miracles is iri'elevant to our
present purpose.
If from sacred, we turn to the early period of pro¬
fane history, we shall find the annals of public events
very copiously interspersed with notices of strange ap¬
pearances, many of which may be safely ascribed to the
ascendency which superstition long obtained over the
human mind. The scepticism of the learned is, however,
sometimes not less injudicious and indiscriminate than Meteoro-
the credulity of the savage j and he who should resolve iite.
every extraordinary event, which is recorded by they—-
writers of Greece and Rome, into a “ cunningly devised
fable,” would not be less reprehensible for want of can¬
dour, than the untutored rustic, who yields his assent to
every alleged miracle, is to be taxed with want of dis¬
cernment.
Although these general positions can scarcely admit
of dispute, it becomes extremely difficult, after a lapse
of many ages, and in the collation of marvellous
records, to separate truth from falsehood. In our at¬
tempts to prosecute this analytical process, we may
sometimes advance a certain length with perfect secu-
rity, without being able to trace uniformly the precise
lines of demarcation. Thus, in regard to the topic
of our present discussion, we know, that in various pe¬
riods of the world the vulgar have ascribed a celestial
origin to stones of a peculiar configuration, as to certain
modifications of pyrites, to belemnites, orthoceratites,
&c. which the subsequent observations of naturalists
have proved to be of mineral formation, and to the
heads of arrows and sharpened flints, which have been
fashioned by the hand of man, and which, accordingly
we are authorized to exclude from the ex-terrestrial ca¬
talogue. But when substances dissimilar from these,
and coinciding in any one character or circumstance
with modern specimens of atmospheric stone, are re¬
ported by the ancients to have fallen from the clouds,
the distance of ages and the lameness of the documents
may powerfully all’ect our appreciation of the reputed
evidence.
When, therefore, we shortly touch on a few of the
many instances which might be quoted from the an¬
nals of antiquity, we mean not to vouch for the truth
even of these particular instances } but merely to admit
their probability, and the weight which the mention
of them may be considered to add to that of subsequent
and recent narrations.
Through the midst of fable which envelopes the history
of the bcetuli, we discern some characters which coi're-
spond with those of meteorolites. Thus, in the Aiiwoi,
a poem falsely ascribed to Orpheus, the <n^g<T>js, which
M. Falconet propeidy classes with the bcetuli, is said to
be rough, heavy, and black. Ilamascius, in an extract
of his life of Isidorus, preserved by Photius, relates that
the bietuli fell on Mount Libanus, in a globe of fire.
A fragment of Sanchoniathon, preserved in Eusebius,
(Preepar. Evangel, i. 10.), moreover informs us, that
these stones were fabricated by the god Uranus (or
Heaven), one of whose four sons was named Batirf.
May not this mythological genealogy be regarded as
merely emblematical of their descent from the upper
regions of the atmosphere P In the same chapter we are
told that Astarte found a star which had fallen from
heaven, and honoured it with consecration in the city ol
Tyre. The stone denominated “ the mother of the
gods,” if we can believe Appian, Herodian, and Mar-
cellinus, fell from heaven. Aristodemus, cited by the
Greek scholiast on Pindar, asserts that it fell encircled
by fire, on a hill, at the feet of the Theban bard. It is
said to have been of a black colour, and of an irregular
shape. Herodian (lib. v.) expi'essly declares, that the
Phoenicians had no statue of the sun, polished by the
hand j but only a certain stone, circular
below, and
terminated
M E T [ 691 ] ME T
iielcoro- terrtnnated acutely above, in the form of a cone, of a
lite. black colour, and that, according to report, it fell from
—heave?!, and was regarded as the image of the sun.
Among various instances which might be selected
from Livy, is that of a shower of stones on Mount
Alba, in the reign of Tullus Hostilius, or about
six hundred and fifty-two years before the birth of
Christ. When the senate were told, that it had rain¬
ed stones, they doubted the fact, and deputed oommis-
sioners to inquire into the particulars. They were then
assured, that stones had really fallen, hand cliter quam
quum grandinem ventiglomeratam in terras agunt. On
this occasion, the historian mentions, that similar events
were celebrated by a festival of nine days. Mansit so-
lenne, ut quandocunque idem prodigium nuntiaretur,
fericc per ?wve?n dies agcrentui\
But one of the most remarkable cases which occurs
in the records of antiquity, is that which is mentioned
in the 58th chapter of the second book of Pliny’s Na¬
tural History, of a large stone which fell near Egospo-
tamos, in Thrace, in the second year of the seventy-
eighth Olympiad, or, according to our chronology, about
four hundred and sixty-seven years before the Christian
era. Pliny assures us, that this extraordinary mass was
still shown in his day and that it was as large as a
cart, and of a bui'nt colour. The Greeks pretended
that it had fallen from the sun, and that Anaxagoras
had predicted the day of its arrival on the earth’s
surface. According to Plutarch, in the life of Lysan-
der, the inhabitants of the Chersonesus held the Thra¬
cian stone in great veneration, and exhibited it as a
public show. His account of its first appearance is
chiefly extracted from the relation of Daimachus of
Platseie, and may be thus translated. “ Luring seventy-
five successive days before the stone fell, a large fiery
body, like a cloud of flame, rvas observed in the hea¬
vens, not fixed to one point, but wandering about with
a broken irregular motion. By its violent agitation,
several fiery fragments were forced from it, impelled in
various directions, and darted with the velocity and
brightness of so many shooting stars. After this body
had fallen on the Chersonesus, and the people had as¬
sembled to examine it, they could find no inflammable
matter, nor the slightest trace of combustion, but areal
stone, which, though large, by no means corresponded
to the dimension of the flaming globe which they had
seen in the sky, but seemed to be oidy a piece detached
from it.” Laimachus, it is true, may, on this occasion,
have given way to his reputed love of the marvellous j
and we can easily believe that the seventy five continuous
days are either an error of the copyist, or an original
exaggeration 5 yet, from the marked coincidence of
some of the circumstances with those more fully de¬
tailed in the sequel, there arises the presumption that a
meteorolite really fell at the place and period above
assigned.
From this period till near the close, of the fifteenth
century, any historical notices which we have been en¬
abled to collect, are so vague and scanty, that, in this
abridged view of the subject, we may pass them over in
silence.
Professor Bantenschoen, of the central school of Col¬
mar, first directed the attention of naturalists to some
of the old chronicles, which commemorate with much
naivete, and in the true spirit of the times, the fall of the
celebrated stone of Ensisheim. The following account Meteors
accompanied this very singular mass, when it was sus- lite.
pended in the church. >
“ In the year of the Lord 1492, on Wednesdav,
which w’as Martinmas eve, the yth of November, there
happened a singular miracle: for, between eleven o’clock
and noon, there was a loud peal of thunder, and a
prolonged confused noise, which was heard to a great
distance, and a stone fell from the air, in the jurisdiction
of Ensisheim, which weighed 260 pounds, and the
confused noise was, moreover, much louder than here.
There a child saw it strike on a field, situated in the
upper jurisdiction, towards the Rhine and Inn, near
tiie district of Gisgard, which was sown with wheat,
and did it no harm, except that it made a hole there:
and then they conveyed it from that spot; and mant
pieces were broken from it, which the landvogt forbade.
They, therefore, caused it to be placed in the church,
with the intention of suspending it as a miracle ; and
many people came hither to see this stone. So there
were remarkable conversations about this stone : but the
learned said, that they knew not what it was ; for it
was beyond the ordinary course of nature, that such a
large mass should smite the earth from the height of the
air ; but that it was really a miracle of God ; for, before
that time, never any thing was heard like it, nor seen,
nor described. When the people found that stone, it
had entered into the earth, to the depth of a man’s
stature, which every body explained to be the will of
God, that it should be found, and the noise of it was
heard at Lucerne, at Villing, and in many other places,
so loud, that it was believed that houses had been
overturned: And as the king (Maximilian) was here,
the Monday after St Catherine’s day, of the same year,
his royal excellence ordered the stone which had fal¬
len to be brought to the castle, and after having con¬
versed a long time about it with the noblemen, he said
the people of Ensisheim should take it, and order it to
be hung up in the church, and not allow any body to
take any thing from it. However, his excellency took
two pieces of it, of which he kept one, and sent the
other to the duke Sigismund of Austria : and they spoke
a great deal about this stone, which they suspended in
the choir, where it still is 5 and a great many people
came to see it.”
Trithcmius, in his Hirsaugiensian Annals, employs
language to this effect.—w In the same year, on the 7th
day of November, in the village of Suntgaw, near
the town lot ol Ensisheim, not far from Basil, a city of
Germany, a stone, called a thunder-stone, of a prodigi¬
ous size, for rve know from eye-witnesses that it weighed
255 pounds, fell from the heavens. Its fall was so
violent, that it broke into trvo pieces. The most con¬
siderable is still exhibited at the door of the church of
Ensisheim, suspended by an iron chain, as a proof of
the fact which we have mentioned, and to preserve it in
the public recollection.”—We learn also from Paul'
Lang that there arose a furious storm on the 7th of
November 1492, and that while the thunder roared,
and the heavens appeared all on fire, a stone of enormous
size fell near Ensisheim. Its form was that of the
Greek delta, with a triangular point. They still show
it at Ensisheim as an astonishing phenomenon.”
It is worthy of •observation, that these chroniclers
lived at the period which they assign to the descent'-of
4 S 2 the
MET [ 69
the stone •, and that, though their names are hastening
to oblivion, Trithemius yielded to few of his contem¬
poraries in labour and learning j while Lang, a Ger¬
man Benedictine as he was, travelled in search of his¬
torical monuments, arraigned the license of the catholic
clergy, and applauded the independence of Luther and
Melancthon.
Of the Ensisheim stone, which has been transported
to the natfcnal library at Colmar, and which, notwith¬
standing various dilapidations, stills weighs 150 pounds,
some interesting specimens may now be seen in the
cabinets of the curious, liobert Ferguson, Esq. younger
of Raith, has, in the most polite and obliging manner,
gratified us with the sight of a small fragment, wlrich
belongs to his valuable collection of minerals at Raith
bouse in Fifeshire, Scotland.
We are fully aware, that M. Barthold has laboured
to convince his readers (Journal de Physique, \ entose,
year 8.) that the far-famed mass of Ensisheim is
merely argil!o-ferrugineous, of secondary formation,
detached from an adjacent mountain, and conveyed to
the spot on which it was found by some torrent or
land-flood. In this opinion, we might partially acqui¬
esce, did not the artlessness of contemporary and concur¬
ring records militate against it, and had not the more
accurate analysis of Vauquelin detected the same con¬
stituent parts as in the other stony and metalline sub¬
stances denominated meteoric. “ It is certainly com¬
posed of silica,” observes this celebrated chemist, “ of
magnesia, of iron, of nickel, of sulphur, and of a small
quantity of lime.—Particular trials have convinced me
of the presence of sulphur and nickel in the grains of
malleable iron, and in the pyrites, though in diflerent
proportions. This stone, then, in every respect, re¬
sembles others which have fallen from the atmo¬
sphere.”
In the Commentary of Surius, a Carthusian monk of
Cologne, mention is made of a shower of large stones
in Lombardy, in I 510- These stones were harder than
flint, and smelled of sulphur. The heaviest weighed
120 pounds. The same event is more particularly re¬
lated by Cardan, in his work intitled de Rerum Varie-
taie (fib. xiv. c. 72.). According to this author, near
the river Adda, not far from Milan, and at five oclock
in the evening, about 1120 stones fell from the air, one
01 them weighing 1 20 pounds and another 60 pounds.
Many were presented to the French governor, and his
deputy. At three o’clock P. M. the sky appeared as if
m a general blaze } and the passage, though somewhat
ambiguous, would lead us to infer, that the meteor was
visible for two hours. Like many of the learned and
unlearned of his day, Cardan instantly connects the
extraordinary appearance with the political transactions
of his district.
We next pass to an interesting extract from the me¬
moirs of the emperor Jehangire, written in Persian, by
himself, and translated by Colonel Kirkpatrick.
u -L -fE 1030, or 16th year of the reign.—The fol¬
lowing is among the extraordinary occurrences of this
period.
2 ] MET
“ Early on the 30th of Furverdeen of the present Motrom
year (1620), and in the eastern quarter of the heavens, lite.
there arose in one of the villages of the purgunnah of '■—'-V'-
Jalindher, such a great and tremendous noise, as had
nearly, by its dreadful nature, deprived the inhabitants
of the place of their senses. During this noise, a lu¬
minous body was observed to fall from above, on the
earth, suggesting to the beholders the idea that the fir¬
mament was raining fire. In a short time, the noise
having subsided, and the inhabitants having recovered
from their alarm, a courier was dispatched to Mahom-
med Syecd, the aumul of the aforesaid purgunnah, to
advertise him of this event. The aumil, instantly
mounting his horse, proceeded to the spot. Here he
perceived the earth, to the extent of a dozen of yards
in length and breadth, to be burned to such a degree,
that not the least trace of verdure, or a blade of
grass remained; nor had the heat yet subsided en¬
tirely.
“ Mahommcd Syced hereupon directed the aforesaid
space of ground to be dug up 5 w hen the deeper it
was dug, the greater was the heat of it found to be.
At length a lump of iron made its appearance, the heat
of which was so violent, that one might have supposed
it to have been taken from a furnace. After some time
it became cold : when the aumil conveyed it to his
own habitation, from whence he afterwards dispatched
it in a sealed bag to court.
“ H ere I had this substance weighed in my presence.
Its weight was 160 tolahs (a). I committed it to a
skilful artisan, with orders to make of it a sabre, a
knife, and a dagger. The workman reported, that the
substance was not malleable, but shivered into pieces
under the hammer.
“ Upon this I ordered it to be mixed with other
iron. Conformably to my orders, three parts of the
iroti of lightning (b) were mixed with one part of com¬
mon iron ; and from the mixture were made twTo sabres,
one knife, and one dagger.”
Our limits will not permit us to give the whole of the
extract, nor the remarks of the Right Hon. Charles
Greville and Colonel Kirkpatrick, which were read be¬
fore the Royal Society of London, on the 27th January,
1803. We feel, however, no hesitation in attaching
to this document something very nearly approaching to
direct evidence of the fact in question.
The celebrated Gassendi relates, that, on the 27th
of November, 1627, about 10 o’clock A. M. during
a very clear sky, he saw a flaming stone, of the appa¬
rent diameter of four feet, fall on Mount Vaision, an
eminence situated between the small towns of Perne and
Guillaumes, in Provence. This stone was surrounded
by a luminous circle of different colours, nearly resemb¬
ling the rainbow, and its fall was accompanied with a
noise like the discharge of artillery. It weighed 59
pounds ; and its specific gravity was to that of common
marble as 14 to 11. It was of a dark metallic colour,
and extremely hard. Though it was not subjected to
chemical analysis, and is not nowto be found, the circum¬
stances which have been stated by the philosopher are
sufficiently
•(■a) A tolab is about t8o grains, Troy weight.
(b) i'uis expression is equivalent to our term thunder-holt.
M E T [693] ME T
aoro- sufficiently minute to operate on the conviction of those
lite. who are willing to be convinced.
-v—1 From a curious book printed at Paris in 1672, and
now become very scarce, entitled Conversations tirees
de PAcademic de M. VAbbe Bourdelot, contenant diver¬
ges rechcrches et observations physiques, par le Simr
Legallois, we make the ensuing extract.
“ A member presents a fragment of two stenes which
fell near Verona, one of which weighed 300, and the
other 200 pounds. These stones,” says he, “ fell dur¬
ing the night, when the weather was perfectly mild and
serene. They seemed to be all on fire, and came from
above, but in a slanting direction, and with a tremen¬
dous noise. This prodigy terribly alarmed 300 or 400
eye-witnesses, who were at a loss what to think of it.
These stones fell with such rapidity, that they formed a
ditch, in which, after the noise had ceased, the specta¬
tors ventured to approach them, and examine them
more closely. They then sent them to Verona, where
they were deposited in the Academy, and that learned
body sent fragments of them to different places.”
That which accompanied the above intimation wras of
a yellowish hue, very easily pulverised, and smelled
of sulphur.—In the course of examining one of these
stones, M. Laugier, professor of pharmacy at Paris,
has recently detected the presence of chrome, by means
of the caustic alkali.—The date of the Verona plieno-
mcnon, if we have been correctly informed, is 1663.
In the Bornian collection there is a substance which
is designated Ferrum retractorium, granulis nitentibus
matrice virescenti immixtis {Ferrum virens Lind),
cujus fragmenta ah unius ad viginti usque librarum
pondus, cortice nigro scoriaeco circumdata, ad P'ann,
props Tabor, circuli Bcchincnsis Bohemia, passim re-
peri untur. The following note is"subjoined.. {Qnce
fragmenta 3 Julii anni 1753, inter tonitrua, e ceelo
pluisse creduliores quidam asserunt). The expression
credullores quidam, it may be alleged, at once destroys
the evidence of this memorandum. It deserves, how¬
ever, to be noted, that, in regard to our present sub¬
ject, what was formerly accounted the credulity of the
vulgar, may now, on several occasions, be construed
into probability, if not into matter of fact and that
Mr Greville has found the identical fragment to have
the same composition with other meteoric stones.
Hence, we are compelled either to admit its ex-ter¬
restrial origin, or the existence of a substance, origi¬
nally belonging to the earth, and yet agreeing in cha¬
racter with those deemed atmospheric. The former
part of the alternative is perfectly consonant with well-
authenticated facts; whereas of the latter, we are not
warranted to pronounce, that a single case has hither¬
to been established to the satisfaction of any chemist
or mineralogist.
But we have now to turn our attention to a report
of M. de la Lande, inserted in the Historical Alma¬
nack of Bresse, for 1756.
In the month of September 17535 about one o’clock
P. M. when the weather was very hot, and very se¬
rene, without the least appearance of a cloud, a very
loud noise, like the discharge of two or three cannons,
was heard within the circumference of six leagues, but
was of very short duration. This noise was loudest in
the neighbourhood of Pont-de-Vesle ; and at Liponas,
a. village three leagues from the last-mentioned place,
it was even accompanied with a hissing, like that of a Meteorp.
cracker. On the same evening there were found at lite.
Liponas and at Pin, two blackish masses, of a form ' '« ”
nearly circular, but very uneven, which had fallen on
ploughed ground, and sunk, by their own weight, to
half a foot below the surface. One of them weighed
about twenty pounds ; and a fragment of one of them
weighing 11 -fib- was preserved in the cabinet of M.
Varenne de Beost, at Dijon. The basis of these masses
resembled a grayish whinstone, and was very refractory ;
and some ferrugineous particles were disseminated in
grains, filaments, or minute masses, through the sub¬
stance of the stone, especially in its fissures. This iron,
when subjected to a red heat, became obedient to the
magnet. The black coating on the surface, M. de la
Lando ascribes to fusion, induced by violent heat. This
gentleman’s acknowledged respectability and accuracy
of observation, combined with the circumstances which
he has adduced, circumstances, too, which, if misstated,
lay so open to public investigation, powerfully plead in
favour of his testimony.
On the 13th of September 1760, according to the
abbe Bachelay, about half past four o’clock P. M.
there appeared near the chateau de Chevabrie, in the
neighbourhood of Luce, a small town of the province
of Maine, a stormy cloud, from which proceeded a
loud peal of thunder, like the discharge of cannon, and
followed by a noise which was mistaken by several
people for the lowing of oxen. This sound was
heard over a space of about two leagues and a half,
but unaccompanied by any perceptible flame. The
reapers in the parish of Perigue, about three leagues
from Luce, on hearing the same noise, looked up, and
saw an opake body, which described a curve, and fell
on soft turf, on the high road from Mons, near which
they were at work. They all quickly ran up to it,
and found a sort of stone, nearly half of which Avas
buried in the earth, and the Avhole so hot that it could
not be touched. At first they ran away in a panic ;
but on returning to the spot some time after, they found
the stone precisely in the same situation, and sufficient¬
ly cooled to admit of being handled, and narrowly ex¬
amined. It Aveighed seven ounces and a half, and A\ras
of a triangular form, presenting, as it were, three
rounded horns, one of Avhich, at the moment of the
fall, had entered into the ground, and Avas of a gray or
ash colour, Avhile the rest, which Avas exposed to the
air, Avas very black. When the abbe presented this
stone to the academy, that body appointed three of its
number, namely, Messieurs Lavoisier, Fougeroux, and
Cadet, to examine and analyse it. This task they
performed Avith more care and accuracy than M. de
la Lande had done on the preceding occasion ; hut their
trial was confined to an integral part of the whole, con¬
sidered as a homogeneous substance, in place of being
repeated on each of the constituent parts. rI he substance
Avas of a pale cinereous hue, speckled with an infinite
number of small and shining metallic points, \risible
through a magnifying glass. That part of the outer
surface Avhich remained above ground Avas incrusted Avith
a thin black coating, AA'bich seemed to have under¬
gone fusion, and which gave a feAv sparks when struck
with steel. The specific gravity of the mass Avas 3535.
—Two other stones, nearly of the same characters,
the one reported to have fallen at Aire, in Artois, and
MET [ 694 ] MET
Ifeteoro- tlic other 111 the Cotentin, in Normandy, were present-
lite. ed to the academy in the course of the same year by M.
Gurson de Boyaval, honorary lieutenant-general of the
bailliage of Aire, and the younger M. Morand. Ac¬
cording to the academical report, these three stones,
when compared, presented no difference to the eye,
were of the same colour, and nearly of the same grain,
exhibiting metallic and pyritous particles, and covered
with a black and ferrugineous incrustation. Although
the coincidence of facts and circumstances, in three
places so remote from one another, did not convince the
academy that these stones had been conveyed to the
earth by lightning, yet it induced them to invite na¬
turalists to prosecute the examination of the subject.
On the 20th of November 1768, a stone fell at
Mauerkircken near the Inn, in Bavaria, that weighed
381b. was of a triangular form, and only eight inches
in thickness. Its fall was accompanied by a hissing
noise, and great darkness in the atmosphere. This me-
teorolite penetrated two feet and a half into the soil.
Part of it is in the cabinet of the right honourable
Charles Greville, which is now in the British Mu¬
seum ; and a fragment may be seen in Mr Ferguson’s
collection quoted above.
The next remarkable case on record occurred on the
20th of August 1789, at Barbotan, near Roquefort, in
tbe Landes of Bourdeaux, and is thus related by Citizen
Lomet, who was known to several members of the In¬
stitute, and happened to be at Agen when the meteor
appeared.
“ It was a veiy bright fire-ball, luminous as the sun,
of the size of an ordinary balloon, and, after inspiring
the inhabitants with consternation, burst and disappear^-
ed. A few days after, some peasants brought stones,
which they said fell from the meteor j but the philoso¬
phers to whom they offered them laughed at their as¬
sertions as fabulous. The peasants would have now
more reason to laugh at the philosophers.”—One of
these stones broke through the roof of a cottage, and
killed a herdsman and some cattle. Vauquelin, who
received a proces-verbal of the circumstances, also ex¬
amined one of the specimens. The fragment procured
by Mr Ferguson has visibly all the characters of a ge¬
nuine meteorolitc.
A much more remarkable phenomenon, however,
of the same description, occurred near Agen, on the
24th of July 1790. An inhabitant of St Severe com¬
municates the following particulars to M. Darcet the
chemist, who was then resident at Paris.
“ Our towns-people were yesterday very much alarm¬
ed. About a quarter past nine o’clock, in the evening,
there suddenly appeared in the air a fire-ball, dragging
a long train, which diffused a very vivid light over the
horizon. This meteor soon disappeared, and seemed to
fall at one hundred paces from us. It was quickly fol¬
lowed by an explosion louder than that of a cannon or of
thunder. Every body dreaded being buried under the
ruins of his house, which seemed to give way from the
concussion. The same phenomenon wras seen, and the
report heard, in the neighbouring towns, as Mont de
Marsan, Tartas, and Dax. The weather in other re¬
spects was very calm, without a breath of wund or a
cloud, and the moon shone in all her brightness.”
M. Darcet’s brother, a clergyman in that part of the
country, sent him a small stone, which was picked up on
4
the morning after the explosion, and the history of
which he was scrupulously anxious to investigate. Being
satisfied with respect to all the particulars, he at length
dispatched it to Paris, accompanied with some curious
remarks. “ When these stones fell,” says he, “ they had
not their present degree of hardness. Some of them fell
on straw, bits of which stuck to the stones, and incorpo¬
rated with them. I have seen one in this predicament.
It is at present at La Bastide ; but I cannot persuade the
owner to part with it * * *. Those which fell on the houses
produced a noise, not like that of stones, but rather of a
substance which had not yet acquired compactness.”
Wre subjoin the proces-verbal—a simple but authen¬
tic document.
“ In the year one thousand seven hundred and nine¬
ty, and the 30th day of the month of August, we, the
Sieur Jean Duby, mayor, and Louis Maullon, procura¬
tor of the commune of the municipality of La Grange
de Juillac, and Jean Darmite, resident in the parish of
La Grange de Juillac, certify in truth and verity, that,
on Saturday the 24th of July last, between nine and
ten o’clock in the evening, there passed a great fire,
and after it wre heard in the air a very loud and extra¬
ordinary noise j and, about two minutes after, there fell
stones from heaven, but fortunately there fell only a very
few, and they fell about ten paces from one another in
some places, and in others nearer, and finally, in some
other places, farther, and falling, most of them, of the
weight of about half a quarter of a pound each; some
of about half a pound, like that found in our parish
of La Grange ; and on the borders of the parish of
Creon, they were found of a pound weight; and in fall¬
ing they seemed not to be inflamed, but very hard and
black without, and within of the colour of steel; and,
thank God, they occasioned no harm to the people, nor
the trees, but only to some trees which Were broken on
the houses j and most of them fell gently, and others
fell quickly, with a hissing noise j and some wrere found
which had entered into the earth, but very few. In
witness whereof we have written and signed these pre-
sents* (Signed) Duby, Mayor—Darmite.”
Monsieur Baudin mentions, that, as M. Carris of Bar¬
botan and he were walking in the court of the castle of
Mormes about half past nine o’clock, in the evening of
the 24th of July 1790, when the air was perfectly calm,
and the sky cloudless, they found themselves suddenly
surrounded by a pale clear light, which obscured that
of the moon, though the latter was nearly full. On
looking up, they observed, almost in their zenith, a fire¬
ball of a larger apparent diameter than that of the moon,
dragging a tail, which seemed to be five or six times long¬
er than the diameter of its body, and which gradually
tapered to a point, the latter approaching to blood-red,
though the rest of the meteor was of a pale white. This
luminous body proceeded with great velocity from south
to north, and in two seconds split into portions of consi¬
derable size, like the fragments of a bursting bomb.
These fragments became extinguished in the air, and some
of them, as they fell, assumed that deep red colour, which
had been observed at the point of the tail. Two or three
minutes after M. Baudin and his friend heard a dread¬
ful explosion, like the simultaneous firing of several
pieces of ordnance j but they were not sensible of any
tremulous motion under their feet, though the concus-
Mctebro
lite.
M E T [ 695 ] MET
-teoro s^on ^5e atmosphere shook the whulows in their
Hte. frames, and threw down kitchen utensils from their
S—j shelves. When these gentlemen removed to the gar¬
den, the noise still continued, and seemed to be direct¬
ly over their heads. Some time after it had ceased,
they heard a hollow sound rolling, in echoes, for fifty
miles, along the chain of the Pyrenees, and at the end
of about four minutes gradually dying away in distance.
At the same time, a strong sulphureous odour was
diffused in the atmosphere. The interval which occur-
x-ed between the disruption of the meteor, and the loud
report, induced M. Baudin to conjecture, that this fire¬
ball must have been at least eight miles from the earth’s
surface, and that it fell about four miles from Mormes.
“ The latter part of my conjecture, says he, was soon
confirmed by an account which we received of a great
many stones having fallen from the atmosphere at Juil-
lac and in the neighbourhood of Barbotan.” It ap¬
pears, indeed, from the concurring testimony of intel¬
ligent persons worthy of cx-edit, that the meteor really
exploded at a little distance from Juillac, and that its
fragments wex-e found lying in an almost circular space,
of nearly two miles in diameter. Some of them weigh¬
ed eighteen or twenty, and a few, it is alleged, even
fifty pounds. M. de Carris procured one of 18 lbs.
which he transmitted to the Parisian Academy of Sci¬
ences. That examined by M. Baudin was small, but
heavy in proportion to its size, black on the outside,
grayish within, and interspersed with many minute,
shining, metallic particles. These last circumstances
perfectly accord with the fragment of a Barbotan stone
preserved in Mr Ferguson’s collection.
In one of his letters to Professor St Amand, M. Goy-
on d’Arzas remarks, that these stones, though generally
smooth on the outside, presented some longitudinal
cracks, or fissures, while their interior parts exhibited
symptoms of metallic veins, especially of a fei'rugineous
complexion. W hen yet red hot, and scattered in various
directions, they formed that magnificent fire-work, that
shower of flame, which enlightened the horizon over a
large tract of country; for this extraordinary metehr
was seen at Bayonne, Auch, Pau, Tarbes, and even at
Bourdeaux and Toulouse. At the last-mentioned place
it excited little attention, on account of its great di¬
stance, and its appealing only a little brighter than a
shooting star. It, moreover, deserves to be noted, that
the meteorolites in question were found on a bare
moor, of an extremely thin soil, on which no such
stones, or indeed stones of any description, had been
observed in the memory of man. They who are solici¬
tous of additional information on this part of our sub¬
ject, may consult N°. 23 and 24 of the Journal des
Sciences Utiles of Montpelier, for 1790, and the De¬
cade Philosophique for February 1796*
When all the circumstances of the case are duly con¬
sidered, we need not be surprised, that they should pro¬
duce conviction on the minds of many men of science,
who, till then, possessed “ an evil heart of unbelief.”
M. de St Amand ingenuously confessed to M. Pictet of
Geneva, that he had treated this novel topic with un¬
merited contempt, and that the evidence deduced from
the similar characters of the stones should not be rashly
rejected. The learned and the unlearned of the district
in which the phenomenon is stated to have occurred,
attest its existence; the professor of natural history in ]\ieteoro.
the central school of Agen renounces his former scepti- Hte.
cism ; Vauquelin analyses a specimen, and finds it to v~~
contain the same chemical substances as other meteoro¬
lites, and in nearly the same proportions ; and shall we
be so unreasonable as to withhold our assent, merely
because we have not ocular demonstration of the alleged
particular’s ?
Our chronological series of cases has now brought us
to the fall of several meteorolites near Sienna, the parti¬
culars of which, as x-eported by the late earl of Bristol
and Sir William Hamilton, ai-e recorded in the first
part of the Philosophical Transactions for 1795 (page
103). Mr King, likewise in the tract which we have
already quoted, communicates some interesting circum¬
stances relative to this phenomenon, chiefly exti’acted
from an account of it published by Professor Soldani.
While we refer our readers to these details, we cannot
omit mentioning that, in regard to aspect and compo¬
sition, the Sienna stones are perfectly analogous to others
already noticed, and very different from any that occur
in Tuscany. As the meteor from which they were dis¬
charged appeared on the morning after a violent eruption
of Vesuvius, they were at first supposed to be volcanic, till
cool reflection and examination betrayed the exti’ava-
gance of such a hypothesis. The precise number of stones
which wei’c collected on this occasion is not specified,
but many of them were small, weighing from a quarter
of an ounce to two ounces. A pi'etty entire specimen
occurs in Mr Ferguson’s collection.—The date of the
Sienna meteor is the 16th of June, 1794.
On the 13th of December of the following year,
about three o’clock in the afternoon, another of these
singular stones, weighing 56 pounds, fell near the
country house of Captain Topham, in Yoi’kshire. The
captain’s report, which is inserted in the Gentleman’s
Magazine for 1796, is distinct and satisfactory j while
the chemical examination of the mass, detailed in
Mr Howard’s paper, in the Philosophical Transactions
fbr 1802, affords a still more decisive proof of its at¬
mospheric origin. M. de Dree, also found it to corre¬
spond exactly in aspect and character, with fragments of
meteor stones from Benares and Ville-tranche. The ori¬
ginal mass is in the possession of Mr Sowerby author of
English Botany, &c. It is larger than a man’s head.
Mr Southey, in his letters from Spain and Portugal,
transcribes the authenticated relation of another instance
of the descent of a stone from the clouds on the 19th of
February 1796. But we pass to some of the most im¬
portant details relative to the stone which is affirmed
to have fallen near Ville-franche, in the department of
the Rhone, on the 12th of Mai'ch, 1798. When it
was transmitted to Professor Sage, member of the Na¬
tional Institute^ he considered it at first, as only a
pyritous and magnetical ore of iron, although it bore no
resemblance to any known species of ore of that metal,
since it contained nickel, silica, magnesia, and native
iron, which shone like steel when polished. “ It is
of an ash gray colour, says M. Sage, granulated and
speckled with gray, shining, and pyritous metallic
points. One of its surfaces is covered with a dingy
black enamel, about the third of a line in thickness.
This stone acts very powerfully on the magnetic needle.
When the senator Chasset transmitted it to me, it
was
MET
[ 696 ]
MET
was accompanied with an historical notice of similar
import with that of M. Delievre, of \ ille-franche, who
saw and described the phenomenon on the spot.”
At six o’clock in the evening, a round body, which
diffused the most vivid light, wras observed in the vicini¬
ty of Ville-franche, moving westward, and producing
a hissing, like that of a bomb which traverses the air.
'i'his luminous body, which was seen at the same time
at Lyons and on Mont-Cenis, marked its path by a
red track of fire, and exploded, about 200 toises from
the earth with a tremendous report and concussion.
One of the flaming fragments fell on the vineyard of
Peter Crepier, an inhabitant of Sales. On the spot
where this portion of the meteor was seen to fall, and
in a fresh opening of about 20 inches in depth, and
18 in width, was found a black mass, 15 inches in dia¬
meter, and rounded on one side.
An account of the same meteor was published in the
Journal de Physique, forFloreal, year 11, by M. deDree.
From his minute and deliberate investigation, it appears
that the fire-ball had scarcely fixed the attention of the
• inhabitants of Sales and the adjacent villages, when
its rapid approach, accompanied by a terrible whizzing
noise, like that of an irregular hollow body, traversing
the air with unusual velocity, inspired the whole com¬
mune with alarm, especially when they observed it
passing over their heads, at an inconsiderable elevation.
It left behind a long train of light, and emitted, with
an almost unceasing crackling, small vivid flames, like
little stars. Its fall was remarked, at the distance of
only 50 paces, by three labourers, one of whom, named
Montillard, let fall his coat and bundle of sticks that he
might run the faster, while the other two, Chardon
and Lapoces, fled with equal precipitation to Sales,
where the alarm had become general.—These three
witnesses attest the astonishing rapidity of the meteor’s
motion, and the hissing which proceeded from the spot
where it fell. So terrified was Crepier at the explosion,
that he locked himself up with his family, first in his
cellar, and then in his private apartment, nor ventured
abroad till next morning, when, in the company of M.
Blandel, Chardon, Lapoces, and many others, he
repaired to the opening which had been made by the
fire ball. At the bottom of this opening, which was
18 inches deep, including the entire thickness of the
mould, they found a large black mass, of an irregularly
ovoid form, having a fanciful resemblance to a calf’s
head. Though no longer hot, it smelled of gun-powder
and was cracked in several places. When the observers
broke it, and discovered nothing but stone, indifference
succeeded to curiosity, and they coolly ascribed its ap¬
pearance to causes more or less whimsical and super¬
natural.
'I'he original weight of this stone was about twenty
pounds. Its black vitrified surface gave fire with steel.
Its interior was hard, earthy, ash-coloured, of a granular
texture, presenting different substances scattered through
it, namely, ii’on in grains, from the smallest size to a
line or even more in diameter, somewhat malleable,
but harder and whiter than forged iron; white pyrites,
both lamellated and granular, and in colour approach¬
ing to nickel ; some gray globules, which seemed to
present the characters of trapp, and a very few and
small pai’ticles of steatites, inclining to an olive hue.
On account of its hetei'ogeneous composition, its specific
. ' 3
gravity could not be easily ascei-tained. One hundred
parts of the mass gave, according to Vauquelin, 46 of
silica, 38 oxide of iron, 15 magnesia, 2 nickel, andu
2 lime. The excess of this result was asci’ibed to the
absorption of oxygen by the native iron during the pro¬
cess. A small -specimen of this mass belongs to Mr
Ferguson’s collection.
On the 19th of December 1798, about eight o’clock
in the evening, the inhabitants of Benai’es and its
neighbourhood observed in the heavens a very lumi¬
nous meteor, in the form of a lai’ge ball of fire, which
exploded with a loud noise, and from which a number
of stones were precipitated near Krakhut, a village
about fourteen miles from the city of Benares. Mr
Davis, the judge and magistrate of the district affirmed
that its brilliancy equalled the brightest moonlight.
Both he and Mr Erskine, the assistant collector, were
induced to send persons in whom they could confide to
the spot where this shower of stones was asserted to have
taken place, and thus obtained additional evidence of
the phenomenon, and several of the stones, which had
penetrated about six inches into fields recently water¬
ed. Mr Maclane, a gentleman who resided near Krak¬
hut, presented Mr Howard with part of a stone, which
had been brought to him the morning after its descent,
by the watchman who xvas on duty at his house, and
through the roof of whose hut it had passed, and buried
itself sevex-al inches in the flooi-, which was of consoli¬
dated eai'th. Before it was broken, it must have weigh¬
ed upwards of two pounds.
At the time that this meteor appeared, the sky was
perfectly serene ; not the smallest vestige of a cloud
had been seen since the nth of the month, nor was
any observed for many days after.
“ Of these stones (says Mr Howard), I have seen
eight nearly perfect, besides parts of several others,
which had been broken by the possessors, to distribute
among their friends. The foim of the moi’e perfect
ones appeared to be that of an irregular cube, rounded
off at the edges •, but the angles were to be observed
on most of them. They were of vai’ious sizes, from
about three to upwards of four inches in their largest
diameter ; one of them, measuring four inches and a
quarter, weighed two pounds twelve ounces. In ap¬
pearance they •were exactly similar; externally they
were covered with a hard black coat, or incrustation,
which in some parts had the appeai'ance of varnish or
bitumen } and on most of them were fractures, which,
from their being covered with a matter similar to that
of the coat, seemed to have been made in the fall, by
the. stones stinking against each other, and to have
passed thx-ough some medium, probably an intense heat,
previous to their reaching the earth. Internally they
consisted of a number of small spherical bodies, of a
slate colour, imbedded in a whitish gritty substance, in-
tei'spersed with bright shining spiculse, of a metallic or
pyritical nature. The spherical bodies were much
harder than the rest of the stone: the white gi'itty
part readily cnxmbled, on being rubbed with a hard
body •, and on being broken, a quantity attached it¬
self to the magnet, but more pax-ticularly the outside
coat or crust, which appeared almost wholly attractable
by it.”
Here we are furnished with another circumstantial
and authenticated narrative, by individuals above the
rank
Metco'o-
lite.
M E T [ 697 ] M E 1’
fletcorq- of suspicion, and who were prompted soleiy by nio-
litc. tives ot curiosity, to examine with due deliberation the
-~v particulars which they have reported,
Ihe history of the extraordinary shower of stones
which fell near PAigle, in Normandy, on the 26th of
April 1803, krst appeared in the ensuing artless letter,
addressed by M. Marais, an inhabitant of the place, to
his friend in Paris.
“ At PAigle, the I 0,1/1 Flo real, 11.
a An astonishing miracle lias ju»t occurred in our
district. Here it is, without alteration, addition, or di¬
minution. It is certain, that it is the truth itself.
“ On Friday last, 6th Floreal (26th April), between
one and two o’clock in the afternoon, we were roused
by a murmuring noise like thunder, On going out we
were suprised to see the sky pretty clear, with the ex¬
ception of some small clouds. We took it for the noise
of a carriage, or of fire in the neighbourhood. We
were then in the meadow, to examine whence the noise
proceeded, when we observed all the inhabitants of the
Pont de Pierre at their windows, and in gardens, in¬
quiring concerning a cloud, which passed in the direc¬
tion of from south to north, and from whence the noise
issued, although that cloud presented nothing extraordi¬
nary in its appearance. But great was our astonishment
when we learned, that many and large stones had fallen
from it, some of them weighing ten, eleven, and even
seventeen pounds, in the space between the house of the
Buat family (half a league to the north-north-east of
I’Aigle) and Glos, passing by St Nicolas, St Pierre,
&c. which struck us at first as a fable, but which was
afterwards found to be true.
“ The following is the explanation given of this ex¬
traordinary event by all who witnessed it.
“ They heard a noise like that of a cannon, then a
double report still louder than the preceding, followed
by a rumbling noise, which lasted about ten minutes,
the same which we also heard, accompanied with his¬
sings, caused by these stones, which were counteracted
in their.fall by the different currents of air, which is
very natural in the case of such a sudden expansion.
Nothing more was heard ; but it is remarkable, that
previously to the explosion, the domestic fowls were
alarmed, and the cows bellowed in an unusual manner.
All the country-folks were much dismayed, especially
the women, who believed that the end of the world
was at hand. A labourer at la Sapee fell prostrate on
the ground, exclaiming, ‘ Good God ! is it possible that
thou canst make me perish thus P Pardon, I beseech
thee, all the faults I have committed,’ &c. The most
trifling objects in fact, might create alarm, for it is
not improbable, that history offers no example of such
a shower of stones as this. The piece which I send
was detached from a large one, weighing eleven
pounds, which was found between the house of the
Buats and le Fertey. It is said, that a collector of
curiosities purchased one of seventeen pounds weight,
that he might send it to Paris. Every body in this
part of the country is desirous of possessing a whole
stone, or a fragment of one, as an object of curiosity.
The largest were darted with such violence that they
entered at least a foot into the earth. They are black
■on the outside, and grayish, as you see, within, seeming
Vol. XIII. Part II. ' 4
to contain some species of metal and nitre. If you Mcteoro-
know before us of what ingredients they are composed, lite.
you will inform us. One fell near M. Bois de la Ville,  v—“
who lives near Glos. He was much afraid, and took
shelter under a tree, lie has found a great number
of them of diflerent sizes, in his court-yard, his wheat
field, &c. without reckoning all those which the
peasants have found elsewhere. Numberless stories,
more or less absurd, have been circulated among the
people. \ on know that our country is fertile in such
tales. Cousin Moutaruier sends one of these stones to
Mademoiselle Hebert} and he is not less eager than
we are, to know how these substances can be compres¬
sed and petrified in the air. Ho try to explain the pro¬
cess.
“ 1 he person who gave me the largest stone which
I send to you, went to take it at the moment that it
fell, but it was so hot that it burned him. Several of his
neighbours shared the same fate in attempting to lift it.
“ 1 he elder Buat has just arrived, and desires us to
add, that a fire-ball was observed to hover over the mea¬
dow. Perhaps it was wild-fire.”
^ At the sitting of the Institute, on the 9th of May,
Tourcroy read a letter, addressed from I’Aigle to
\ auquelin, and which sufficiently corroborates the pre¬
ceding statements. But we pass to the substance of
M. Biot’s letter, addressed to the minister of the inte¬
rior, and published in the Jour mil dcs Debats, (14th
Thermidor, year II.). The writer who is advan¬
tageously known for his scientific attainments, was de¬
puted by government to repair to the spot, and collect
all the authentic facts. The contents of his letter have
been since expanded into the form of a memoir, which
manifests the caution and good sense which guided his
inquiries, and which we are surprised to learn, has not
appeared in an English translation.
M. Biot left Paris on the 25th of June, and in place
of proceeding directly tol’Aigle, went first to Alemjon,
which lies fifteen leagues to the west-south-west of it.
He was informed on his way, that a globe of fire had
been observed moving towards the north, and that its
appearance was followed by a violent explosion. From
Alen^on he journeyed through various villages to
I’Aigle, being directed in his progress by the accounts
of the inhabitants, who had all heard the explosion on
the day and at the hour specified. Almost all the in¬
habitants of twenty hamlets, scattered over an extent of
upwards of two leagues square affirmed that they were
eye-witnesses of a dreadful shower of stones which was
darted from the meteor. The following is his summary
of the whole evidence.
“ On Tuesday, 6th Floreal, year 11, about one
o’clock P. M. the weather being serene, there was
observed from Caen, Pont d’Audemer, and the environs
of Alenyon, Falaise, and Verneuil, a fiery globe, of a
very brilliant splendour, and which moved in the at¬
mosphere with great rapidity. Some moments after,
there was heard at I’Aigle, and in the environs of that
town, in the extent of more than thirty leagues in
every direction, a violent explosion, which lasted five
or six minutes. At first there were three or four re¬
ports, like those of cannon, followed by a kind of
discharge which resembled the firing of musketry 5
after which there was heard a dreadful rumbling like
4 T the
MET
the beating of a drum. The
sky serene, except a few clouds, such as are frequently
observed.
“ This noise proceeded from a small cloud which
had a rectangular form, the largest side being in a di¬
rection from east to west. It appeared motionless all
the time that the phenomenon lasted j but the vapours
of which it was composed, were projected momentarily
from different sides, by the effect of the successive ex-
plosions. This cloud was about half a league to the
north-north-west of the town of I’Aigle. It was at a
great elevation in the atmosphere, for the inhabitants
of two hamlets, a league distant from each other, saw
it at the same time above their heads. In the whole
canton over which this cloud was suspended, there was
heard a hissing noise like that of a stone discharged
from a sling, and a great many mineral masses exactly
similar to those distinguished by the name of meteor-
stones were seen to fall.
“ The district in which these masses were projected,
forms an elliptical extent of about two leagues and a halt
in length, and nearly one in breadth, the greatest di¬
mension being in a direction from south-east to north¬
west, forming a declination of about 22 degrees. This
direction, which the meteor must have followed, is ex¬
actly that of the magnetic meridian, which is a re¬
markable result. The greatest of these stones fell at
the south-eastern extremity of the large axis of the el¬
lipse, the middle-sized in the centre, and the smaller
at the other extremity. Hence it appears that the
largest fell first, as might naturally be supposed. The
largest of all those that fell weighs seventeen pounds
and a half. The smallest which I have seen weighs
about two gros (a thousandth part of the last). The
number of all those which fell is certainly above two
or three thousand.”
As we cannot make room for an analysis of M.
Biot’s more extended communication, we shall be con¬
tented to select only two facts.
The cure of St Michael declared, that he observed
one of the stones fall, with a hissing noise, at the feet of
bis niece, in the court-yard of his parsonage, and that
it rebounded upwards of a foot from the pavement.
He instantly requested his niece to fetch it to him ;
but as she was too much alarmed, a woman who hap¬
pened also to be on the spot, took it up 5 and it was
found in every respect to resemble the others.
As one Pic he, a wire-manufacturer belonging to the
village of Armees, was working with his fnen in the open
air, a stone grazed his arm, and fell at his feet*, but
it was so hot, that, on attempting to take it up, he in¬
stantly let it fall again.
He who compares the various accounts of the I’Aigle
meteor, with a critical eye, may detect some apparent
contradictions, which, however, on reflection, are found
to be strictly conformable to truth. Thus, according
to some, the meteor had a rapid motion, others believed
it stationary ; some saw a very luminous ball of fire,
others only an ordinary cloud. Spectators, in fact,
viewed it in different positions with respect to its direc¬
tion. They who happened to be in its line of march,
would see it stationai-y, for the same reason, that we
fancy a ship under full sail to be motionless, when we
are placed in its wake, or when we view it from the
harbour to which it is approaching in a straight line.
[ 698 ] ME T
air was calm, and the They, on the other hand, who had a side view of the
meteor, would reckon its progress the more rapid, in
proportion as their position approached to a right angle u
with its line of passage. They, again, who saw it from
behind, as the inhabitants of I’Aigle, would perceive
only the cloud of vapour, which it left in its train, and
which, in the dark, would figure like a blazing tail, in
tbe same manner as the smoke of a volcano appears
black during the day and red at night. Lastly, they
who Wrcre placed in front of the meteor, would reckon
it stationary, but brilliant and cloudless.
It deserves to be remarked, that the I’Aigle stones
wTere very friable for some days after their descent,
that they gradually acquired hardness, and that after
they had lost the sulphureous odour on their surface,
they still retained it in their substances, as w as found by
breaking them. Professor Sage submitted them to se¬
veral comparative trials with those of ^ ille-franche} and,
though the I’Aigle specimens present some globules of
the size of a small coriander seed, of a darker gray
than the mass, and not attractable by the magnet, yet,
in respect of granular texture and general aspect, the
coincidence was so striking as to lead one to suppose
that they Avere all parts of the same mass.
The I’Aigle stones, according to Fourcroy, are ge-
nerally irregular, polygonal, often cuboid, sometimes sub¬
cuneiform, and exceedingly various in their diameter
and weight. All are covered with a black gravelly
crust, consisting of a fused matter, and filled with small
agglutinated grains of iron. The greater part of them
are broken at the corners, either by their shock against
each other, or by falling on hard bodies. The inter¬
nal parts resemble those of all the stones analyzed by
Messrs Howard and Vauquelin, being gray, a little
varied in their shades, granulated, and as it were scaly,
split in many parts, and filled with brilliant metallic
points, exactly of the same aspect as those of other stones
of a like description. The proportions of their con¬
stituent materials are stated as nearly, 54 silex, 36 oxi¬
dated iron, 9 magnesia, 3 nickel, 2 sulphur, and 1 lime,
the five per cent, of increase, arising from the oxidation
of the metals produced by the analysis.
Of the tivo specimens which M. Biot presented to
the celebrated Patrin, one was less compact, and of a
lighter gray than the other, and likewise presented
small patches of a rust colour. When immersed in
water, it gave a hissing sound, bke the humming of a
fly, which is held by one wing. As it began to dry, it
was observed to be marked by curvilinear and parallel
layers. The more compact specimens, when moistened,
presented no such appearances, but assumed the as¬
pect of a gray porphyry, with a base of trap, mot¬
tled with small white spots, and speckled with metallic
points.
Two fine specimens of the I’Aigle stone, one of them
nearly entire, may be seen in Mr Ferguson’s collection,
which we have already repeatedly quoted.
Previously to the explosion of the 26th of April
1803, no meteorolites had been found by the inhabi¬
tants of the I’Aigle district, nor in the mineralogical
collections of the department j nor the slightest mention
of them made in the geological documents of this por¬
tion of Normandy r the mines, founderies, and forges,
had produced nothing similar, in the form of dross or
ore, nor had the country exhibited any trace of vol¬
canoes.
Mete 010.
Hte.
MET [ 699 ] M E T
canoes. The meteor at once appears, ami a multitude
ot’ stones of the peculiar character noted above are seen
scattered on a determined space of ground, in a man¬
ner, and accompanied with circumstances, which could
not formerly have escaped observation. Let us like¬
wise reflect, that the young and the old, simple peasants
dwelling at a distance from one another, sagacious and
rational workmen, respectable ecclesiastics, young sol¬
diers devoid of timidity, individuals, in short, of vari¬
ous manners, professions, and opinions, united by no
common ties, all agree in attesting a fact, which con¬
tributed neither directly nor indirectly to promote their
own interest, and they all assign the manifestation ot
this fact to the same day and hour. They, more¬
over, point to existing vestiges of the descent of solid
substances, and they declare, in terms unsusceptible
of misconstruction or ambiguity, that they saw the
masses in question roll down on roofs, break branches
of trees, rebound from the pavement, and produce
smoke where they fell. These recitals, and these ves¬
tiges, are limited to a tract of territory which has been
accurately defined ; while beyond the precincts of this
tract, not a single particle of a meteorolite has been
found, nor a single individual who pretends that he saw
a stone fall.
Having now, we presume, advanced ample and sa¬
tisfactory evidence of the existence of meteorolites, we
shall forbear to enlarge this article by dwelling on in¬
stances of inferior notoriety to those which we have re¬
counted, and shall merely note the dates of subsequent
examples.
On the 4th of July 1803, a fire-ball struck the
White Bull Inn at East-Norton, and left behind it
several meteoric fragments.—On the 13^ Decem¬
ber of the same year, a similar phenomenon occurred
at the village of St Nicholas, in Bavaria.—At Pessil,
near Glasgow in Scotland, a meteor-stone fell, with a
loud and hissing noise, on the 5th April 1804.— 1 he
next instance which we have to mention occurred near
Apt, in the department of Yaucluse, on the 6th of
October of the same year ; and the last which has come
to our knowledge happened at half past five o’clock in
the evening of the 15th March 1806, near Alais in
Languedoc.
It seems reasonable, however, to suppose, that the
fall of meteoric substances takes place more frequently
than is commonly supposed, since several foreign col¬
lections of fossils contain specimens of reputed celestial
origin, and exhibiting the genuine atmospheric physi¬
ognomy. It is likewise worthy of remark, that many
relations of the phenomenon may have sunk into ob¬
livion, from the contempt with which they were heard
bv the learned, and that on a fair computation of
chances, meteors may have sometimes exploded on de¬
sert tracts of land, and still more frequently over the
pathless expanse of the water.
That some of the relations to which we have alluded
are vague and unsatisfactory, cannot he denied, but the
circumstantial testimony conveyed by others is more
pointed and positive; and the whole mass of historical
proof, especially when combined with the argument
deduced from the identity of the physical and chemical
constitution of the stones, appears to us to he altogether
irresistible.
In the course of our inquiry into this novel and inte¬
resting subject, tve have ascertained a variety ofcircum- ]\
stances which render it highly probable, if not indubi¬
table, that those detached masses of native iron, whose
history has so often staggered and perplexed the geolo¬
gist, are only modifications of meteoric depositions.
The Tartars, for example, ascribe the descent of the
Siberian mass described by Cbladni, Pallas, Patrin, &c.
to a period that is lost in the remoteness of antiquity ;
and while tradition thus favours our hypothesis, the ana¬
logy which is obviously observable in point of texture
and chemical characters with those of other solid bodies,
whose fall is no longer questioned, strengthens tradition.
According to the discoveries of Proust and Klaproth,
native iron, reputed meteoric, differs from that which
occurs in a fossil state by the presence of nickel. The
former of these celebrated analysts obtained 50 grains
of sulphate of nickel from 100 of the South American
mass, and his results arc corroborated by Mr Howard
and the Count de Bournon.
Of the two pieces of Siberian iron possessed by Mr
Greville, one, which was transmitted by Dr Pallas,
weighs several pounds ; and another presents a cellu¬
lar and ramified texture, analogous to that of some
very light and porous volcanic scoriae. When atten¬
tively examined, there may he perceived in it not only
empty cells, but also impressions or cavities of greater or
less depth, and in some of which there remains a trans¬
parent substance, of a yellowish green colour. Tlie iron
itself is very malleable ; and may he easily cut with a
knife, or flattened under the hammer. The specific gra¬
vity is 6487, which is obviously inferior to that of imfor-
ged iron that has undergone fusion, and maybe partly ow¬
ing tothe oxidizementof the surfaceoftheiron,andpartly
to the many minute cavities in its substance, wdiich are of¬
ten rendered visible by fracture, and which have their sur¬
face also oxidized. The fracture is shining and silvery,
like that ofwhite cast iron j but its grain is much smoother
and finer ; and it is much more malleable when cold.
The heavier specimen is more solid and compact, ex¬
hibiting no cavities or pores, though its surface is ra¬
mified and cellular. So blended and incorporated is
its compact part with the yellowish-green substance
mentioned above, that if the whole of the latter could
he subtracted, the remainder would consist of iron in
the metallic state, and would display the same cellular
appearance as the preceding specimen, or as the super¬
ficial portion of that now described. This stony part
of the composition usually assumes the appearance of
small nodules, generally of an irregular shape, but
sometimes nearly globular, with a smooth, shining, and
glassy surface. This substance, which is always more
or less transparent, is hard enough to cut glass, hut
makes no impression on quartz. It becomes electric
by friction, is very refractory, and varies in specific
gravity from 3263 to 3300. Of all substances hither¬
to known, it approaches most to the peridot, or Wer¬
nerian chrysolite, which yielded to Klaproth nearly the
same results which this substance did to Howard. In
the mass of iron, it is liable to decomposition, changing
to an opake white, and crumbling into a gritty dry
powder, when lightly pressed or squeezed between the
fingers.—“ I cannot help observing (says the count de
Bournon), that there appears to exist a very interesting
analogy between these transparent nodules and the
globules I described as making part of the stones said
4 T 2 to
M E T [ 700 ] M E T
Mete ora- to have fallen on the earth. This analogy, though not
lite. a very strong one, may lead us to suppose, that the
L“—two substances are similar in their nature, hut that the
globules are less pure, and contain a greater quantity
of iron.”
The native iron from Bohemia is compact, like the
large specimen from Siberia, in Mr Greville’s collec¬
tion, and like it contains nodules, but not so numerous.
They are besides quite opake, and very much resemble
the globules in atmospheric stones. This iron contains
nearly five per cent, of nickel. Between five and six
per cent, of the same metal seems to exist in a piece of
native iron brought from Senegal.
Though our limits will not permit us to dwell with
minuteness on the physical and chemical characters of
meteorolites, we shall shortly state those which the
count de Bournon found to appertain to the specimens
from Benares, and which may serve as no unfair stand¬
ard of the aspect and composition of the others.
Like all of the same origin which were subjected to
the count’s examination, the Benares stones are covered
over the whole extent of their surface, with a thin crust,
of a deep black colour, sprinkled over with small asperi¬
ties, which make it feel somewhat like shagreen or fish
skin. Their fracture exhibits a grayish colour, and
a granulated texture, like that of coarse grit-stone.
By help of a lens, they are perceived to be composed
of four different substances. One of these occurs in
great abundance, in the form of small bodies, some of
which are perfectly globular, others rather elongated
or elliptical, and all, of various sizes, from that of a
small pin’s head to that of a pea, or nearlv so. These
small globules are usually gray, sometimes inclining
much to brown, and always opake 5 they are easily
broken in any direction, have a conehoidal fracture,
and a fine, smooth, compact grain, with a slight degree
of lustre, approaching to enamel j lastly, they can de¬
stroy the polish of glass without being able to cut it,
and sparkle faintly when struck with steel. Another of
these substances is martial pyrites, of an indeterminate
form, and reddish yellow colour, slightly verging to
the nickel tint, or to that of artificial pyrites j of a
somewhat loosely granulated texture, and irregularly
distinguished in the mass, being black when reduced to
powder, and not attractable by the magnet. The
third of these substances consists of small particles of
iron, in a perfectly metallic state, so that they may be
easily flattened or extended under the hammer. Though
in a much smaller proportion than the pyrites just men¬
tioned, they impart the magnetic attraction to the
stone. When a piece of the latter was pulverized, and
the particles of iron separated from it as accurately as
possible, by means of a magnet, they appeared to com¬
pose about 200 parts of the weight of the stone. These
three substances are united by means of a fourth, which
is nearly of an earthy consistency, and of a whitish gray
colour.—The black crust, or outward coating, though
of very inconsiderable thickness, emits bright sparks
when struck with steel, may be broken by the hammer,
and seems to possess the same properties with the black
oxide of iron, though, like the substance of the stone,
it is occasionally intermixed with small particles of
iron in the metallic state. These are easily distinguish¬
ed, by passing a file over the crust, which reveals their
lustre. I he specific gravity of the Benares stones is 33 52.
I
None of them, when breathed on, emit the argillaceous MtUora
odour. lite.
In consequence of various experiments, M. Sage, u-~v—
infers that meteorolites are composed of native iron,
sulphuret of nickel, quartz or silica, alumina, and mag¬
nesia j that the proportions of iron and nickel vary; that
the quartz seems to form at least the half of the stone,
the alumina and magnesia the sixth, and the sulphur the
30th part. These general results pretty nearly accord
with the more special reports of Howard and Vauquelin,
except that the latter makes no mention of alumina, the
existence of which in atmospheric stones is by no means
distinctly ascertained.
We shall only beg leave to add, on this part of our
subject, that Laugier, an ingenious chemist, by employ¬
ing the caustic alkali, has detected a small portion of
chrome. The results of his experiments, which arc
stated in the 581I1 volume of the Annules de Chimie, are
1st, That the five stones from Verona, Barbotan, En-
sisheim, 1’Aigle, and the neighbourhood of Apt, besides
the principles already recognized, contain about one
per cent, of chrome, idly, That it is very probable
that all meteorolites contain this principle, since they
all resemble one another in their physical and chemi¬
cal properties, and have all, apparently, the same ori¬
gin ; and, 3dly, That in many cases, the perfection
of chemical analysis requires, that the same substance
should be treated both by acids and alkalies, since
experience has shown, that a principle which elud¬
ed the former method, has been revealed by the lat¬
ter.
Having now, as wre apprehend, sufficiently established
the existence and nature of meteorolites, we hope our
readers will excuse us from enlarging on the various
causes which have been assigned for their origin, as these
seem to lie beyond the reach of our present state of
knowledge. After a candid and patient review of the
principal theories, wc conceive that they are at best
gratuitous, and that most of them are open to many and
formidable objections.
The terrestrial hypotheses, we believe, begin already
to be generally abandoned, as untenable. Until the
phenomenon of exploding meteors had been distinctly
observed and recorded, Lemery and others could main¬
tain, with some degree of plausibility, that lightning
might tear up the ground, and convert soil into a com¬
pact mass. But the appearances of a thunder storm
and of a fire-ball are now ascertained to differ in
various important respects. Spectators worthy of credit
have seen the latter terminate in the fall of solid bodies;
and the composition of these solid bodies lias been found
to differ from that of all the known fossil substances
on the surface of the globe. It is in vain, then, to
allege, that they are formed on the ground by com¬
mon lightning, which has often produced very extraor¬
dinary effects, hut which never generated thousands of
stones in fine calm weather. The supposition, that
such stones have been projected from some of our
volcanoes, is hardly less conceivable. The ashes which
accompany a violent eruption of AEtna or Vesuvius have,
from their levity, been carried to a very considerable
distance ; but we are totally unacquainted with any pro¬
jectile force which could dart solid masses many hundred
miles, through such a dense medium as the atmosphere.
The compact lavas of burning mountains are never
found
MET [ 7
-tcoro- found remote from the scene of their formation, and
lite. none of them present the characters and aspect of the
•'V—stones which we have described. M. Bory de St Vin¬
cent, indeed, in his Voyage dans les quatre Principaks
Isles des Mers d'Afrique, very pompously expounds a
doctrine, which, in our opinion, carries its confutation
along with it. According to this writer, meteorolites
were projected from immense depths, in an early stage
of the earth’s existence, when igaivomous mountains
were endued with propelling forces sufficient to drive
masses of matter into the regions of space, where they
were constrained to obey, for ages, the combined laws
of impulse and gravitation, until, in the progress of
time, their spiral revolutions at length terminated on
the surface of their native earth. Before we can adopt
such an extravagant hypothesis, we must be convinced,
that at one period of the history of our globe, the
agency of subterraneous fire was adequate to communi¬
cate planetary motion to splinters of rock, without
heaving up the rocks themselves, and that the rotatory
movement, though once established, must gradually di¬
minish and cease. The demonstration of these positions
is surely not less arduous than the explanation of the
phenomenon which they are intended to solve.
Of those who contend for the atmospherical formation
of meteorolites, scarcely any two agree in regard to the
manner by which such formation is effected. Patrin,
who is solicitous to extend and illustrate his darling
theory of volcanoes, labours at great length to main¬
tain the existence of a regular circulation of gaseous
fluids between the primitive schistose strata of the globe,
and its surrounding atmosphere, and, from this fancied
circulation, which he flatters himself he has demonstra¬
ted, he deduces, quite at his ease, the occasional igni¬
tion and concretion of portions of these fluids in the
higher regions of the air. This ingenious mineralogist
and geologist is so extremely tenacious of these ideas
that avc shall not attempt to disturb his self-compla¬
cency j hut he Avill excuse us if avc refuse to assent to
results which rest on imaginary foundations. The ce¬
lebrated Muschenbroeck, in one part of his Avritings,
ascribes the descent of stones from the air to earth¬
quakes and volcanic eruptions, an opinion which later
observations have disproved. In other passages, Iioav-
ever, he seems to incline to a modification of the atmo¬
spherical hypothesis, and endeavours to trace the origin
of shooting stars to an accumulation of the volatile mat¬
ters Avhich are suspended in the air. It is extremely
probable, that shooting stars and fiery meteors have an
intimate relation to one another, if they are not identi¬
cal appearances 5 but it is certain that the former move
at a much greater distance from our earth than fire¬
balls, and only occasion, a transient luminous appear¬
ance in their passage through the upper regions of the
atmosphere. Perhaps they are analogous to those teles¬
copic sparks of light Avhich were observed by M. Schro-
ter. Muschenbroeck, however, adopts the vulgar no¬
tion of their falling to the earth, and seems to con¬
found their residue with tremella nostoc. INI. Salverte
has given extension to the theory of formation from va¬
pours, by having recourse to the agency of hydrogen
gas. According to him, in consequence of the decom¬
position of water, Avhich is constantly going on at the
surface of the earth, immense quantities of hydrogen
gas are continually rising into the atmosphere, and as-
,i j ME T
ccnding to its higher regions. As this gas is capable jvieteoro-
of dissolving metals, it carries along AA'ith it a portion of lite.
iron and nickel. During thunder-storms this gas is 1 v*~~
kindled by electricity } the metals are deposited, redu¬
ced, melted, and vitrified \ in other words, meteors
are produced and stones formed. This hypothesis is
scarcely more satisfactory than the others. It does not
account for the presence of magnesia and silica, nor
does it explain Avhy the stones are ahvays composed of
the same materials. Besides, the existence of hydrogen
gas in the atmosphere has not been proved, far less that
it forms a separate atmosphere, which is contrary to all
experience j and it is avcII known, that a little hydro¬
gen, mixed with a large portion of atmospheric air,
cannot be fired by electricity. In general, avc may
obseiwe, that if the origin of meteorolites be really at¬
mospherical, the matters of Avhich they are composed
must have existed in one of Iavo states, namely, in very
attenuated particles or concretions of the matters them¬
selves volatilized and held in solution in the air, or
only in the elements of these matters. In the first case,
Avhen abandoned by their menstruum to their reciprocal
tendencies, they Avould unite by aggregation only j in
the second, by chemical combination. NoA\q avc can
hardly suppose that disengagement of light and violent
detonation should result from the mere affinity of ag¬
gregation, Avhereas they are strictly symptomatic of the
affinity of composition. This, and various other consi¬
derations which might be stated, if avc could make
room for them, induce us to regard the doctrine of
combination as the most plausible. M. Izarn, A\ho has
published a treatise on Atmospheric Lithology, has en¬
tered into a tedious and somewhat obscure exposition of
his OAvn theory, founded on this principle. We shall
give the summary, as nearly as avc can, in his oAvn
Avords.
“ Gaseous substances, arranged in spherical masses
in the upper regions of the air, being admitted, the Ara-
rious agitations of the atmosphere should naturally Avaft
some of these masses from their insulating medium into
one capable of combining with them. If the combina¬
tion begins, the disengagement of light is explained.
In proportion as the combination advances, the specific
gravities are changed ; and, consequently, a change of
place Avill commence, and that in the quarter Avhich
presents least resistance, or Avhere the medium is most
rarefied, in course rather toAvards the south than the
north. Hence, most fire-balls are observed to move
from north to south, or from north-east to south-Avest.
Motion being once impressed, the mass traverses other
media, capable of supplying hcav principles, Avhich
still increasing the Aveight, determine the curve j and
Avhen at length the principles Avhich are at Avork, and
Avhich issue in all directions, have attained the requisite
proportion for extinguishing the elements in the bir th
of the compound, the grand operation is announced by
the explosion, and the product takes its place among
the solids.”—That the stones in question are produced
by chemical combination in the higher regions of the
atmosphere, and that tiny are thus formed from their
oavu elements, are suppositions fully as probable as any
that haA'e been advanced on the subject •, but Avhether
the union of their parts be effected in the manner de¬
tailed by M. Izarn, avc are unable to determine, both
because avc are uncertain if avc perfectly comprehend
his
Mticoro-
litc.
MET [ 702 ] ME T
Ills meaning, and because our range of data is as yet too
circumscribed, to warrant any specific or decisive con¬
clusions.
A much bolder theory has been suggested, and its
possibility demonstrated by the celebrated French astro¬
nomer, La Place, who shews, that meteorolites may be
the products of lunar volcanoes. As this romantic
vietv of the subject has obtained the suffrages of some
men of science, and has excited the ridicule of others,
we shall present the reasoning on which it is founded
in the popular and perspicuous language of Dr Hutton
of Woolwich. ‘
“ As the attraction of gravitation extends through
the whole planetary system, a body placed at the sur¬
face of the moon is affected chiefly by two forces, one
drawing it toward the centre of the earth, and another
drawing it toward that of the moon. The latter of these
forces, however, near the moon’s surface is incomparably
the greater. But as we recede from the moon, and ap¬
proach toward the earth, this force decreases while the
other augments ; till at last a point of station is found
between the two planets, where these forces are exactly
equal, so that a body placed there must remain at rest
but if it be removed still nearer to the earth, then this
planet would have the superior attraction, and the body
must fall towards it. If a body then be projected from
the moon towards the earth, with a force sufficient to
carry it beyond the point of equal attraction, it must ne¬
cessarily fall on the earth. Such then is the idea of the
manner in which the bodies must be made to pass from
the moon to the earth, if that can be done, the possi¬
bility of which is now necessary to be considered
“ Now, supposing a mass to be projected from' the
moon, in a direct line towards the earth, by a volcano,
or by the production of steam by subterranean heat; and
supposing for the present these two planets to remain at
rest j then it has been demonstrated, on the Newtonian
estimation of the moon’s mass, that a force projecting
the body with a velocity of I2,0bd’feet in a second,
would he sufficient to carry it beyond the point of equal
attraction. But this estimate of the moon’s mass is
now allowed to be much above the truth ; and on M.
la Place’s calculation, it appears that a force of little
more than half the above power would be sufficient to
produce the effect, that is, a force capable of project¬
ing a body with a velocity- of less than a mile and a
halt per second. But we have known cannon balls
projected by the force of gunpowder, with a velocity
of 2500 feet per second or upwards, that is, about half
a mile. It follows, therefore, that a projectile force,
communicating a velocity about three times that of a
cannon ball, would be sufficient to throw the body
from the moon beyond the point of equal attraction, and
cause it to reach the earth. Now there can be little
doubt that a force equal to that is exerted by volcanoes
on the earth, as Well as by the production of steam by
Subterranean heat/ when we consider the huge masses of
rock, so many times larger than cannon balls, thrown
on such occasions to heights also so much greater. We
may easily imagine, too, such cause of motion to exist
in the moon as well as in the earth, and that in a supe¬
rior degree, if we may judge from the supposed symp¬
toms of volcanoes recently observed in the moon bv
the powerful tubes of Dr Herschel ; and still more, if
"2
we consider that all projections from the earth suffer an
enormous resistance and diminution, by the dense atmo¬
sphere of this planet *, while it has been rendered pro¬
bable, from optical considerations, that the motion has
little or no atmosphere at all, to give any such resist¬
ance to projectiles.
“ Thus then we are fully authorized in concluding,
that the case of possibility is completely made out 5 that
a known power exists in nature, capable of producing
the foregoing effect, of detaching a mass of matter from
the moon, and transferring it to the earth in the form
of a flaming meteor, or burning stone : at the same time
We are utterly ignorant of any other process in nature
by which the same phenomenon can be produced. Ha¬
ving thus discovered a way in which it is possible to
produce those appearances, wre shall now endeavour to
show, from all the concomitant circumstances, that these
accord exceedingly well with the natural effects of the
supposed cause, and thence give it a very high degree
oi probability.
“ Th is important desideratum will perhaps be best
attained, by examining the consequences of a substance
supposed to be projected by a volcano from the moon
into the sphere of the earth’s superior attraction ; and
then comparing those with the known and visible phe¬
nomena of the blazing meteors or burning stones that
fall through the air on the earth. And if in this com¬
parison a striking coincidence or resemblance shall al¬
ways or mostly be found, it will be difficult for the hu¬
man mind to resist the persuasionthat the assumed cause
involves a degree of probability but little short of cer-
v tainty itself Now the chief phenomena attending
these blazing meteors' or burning stones, are these :
I. That they appear or blaze out suddenly. 2. That
they move with a surprising rapid motion, nearly hori¬
zontal, but a little inclined downwards. 3. That they
move in several different directions with respect to the
points of the compass. 4. That in their flight they
yield a loud whizzing sound. 5. That they common¬
ly burst with a violent explosion and report. 6. That
they fall on the earth with great force in a sloping di¬
rection. ' *]. That they are very hot at first, remain hot
a considerable time, add exhibit visible tokens of fu¬
sion on their surface. 8. That the fallen stony masses
have nil the same external appearance and contexture, as
Well as internally the same nature and composition.
9. That they are totally different from all our terrestrial
bodies, both natural arid artificial.
“ Now these phenomena will naturally Compare with
the circumstances of a substance projected by a lunar
volcano, and in the order in which they ai e here enu¬
merated. And first, with respect to the leading cir¬
cumstance, that of a sudden blazing meteoric appear¬
ance, which is not that of a small bright spark, first seen
at at immense distance, and then gradually increasing
with the diminution of its distance. And this circum¬
stance appears very naturally to result from the assumed
cause. For, the body being projected from a lunar
volcano, may well be supposed in an ignited state, like
inflamed matter throwm upon by our terrestrial volcanoes,
which passing through the comparatively vacuum, in
the space between the moon and the earth’s sensible at¬
mosphere, it will probably enter the superior parts of
this atmosphere with but little diminution of its origi-
Meteoro-
lite.
M E T
nal heat *, from which circumstance, united with that
of its violent motion, this being 10 or 12 times that of
a cannon ball, and through a part of the atmosphere
probably consisting chiefly of the inflammable gas rising
Ii'om the earth to the top of the atmosphere, the body
may well be supposed to be suddenly inflamed, as the
natural effect of these circumstances •, indeed it would
be surprising if it did not. From whence it appears,
that the sudden inflammation of the body, on entering
the earth’s atmosphere, is exactly what might be ex¬
pected to happen.
“ 2. To trace the body through the earth’s at¬
mosphere } we are to observe that it enters the top
of it with the great velocity acquired by descending
from the point of equal attraction, which is such as
would carry the body to the earth’s surface in a very
few additional seconds of time if it met with no obstruc¬
tion. But as it enters deeper in the atmosphere, it
meets with still more and more resistance from the in¬
creasing density of the air, by which the great velocity
of six miles per second must soon be greatly reduced
to one that will be uniform, and only a small part of
its former great velocity. This remaining part of its
motion will be various in different bodies, being more
or less as the body is larger or smaller j and as it is
more or less specifically heavy 5 but, for a particular in¬
stance, if the body were a globe of 1 2 inches diameter,
and of the same gravity as the atmospheric stones, the
motion would decrease so as to be little more than a
quarter of a mile per second of perpendicular descent.
Now while the body is thus descending, the earth itself
is affected by a twofold motion, both the diurnal and
the annual one, with both of which the descent of the
body is to he compounded. The earth’s motion of ro¬
tation at the equator is about 17 miles in a minute, or
two-sevenths of a mile in a second 5 but in the middle
latitudes of Europe little more than the half of that,
■or little above half a quarter of a mile in a second j and
if we compound this motion with that of the descending
body, as in mechanics, this may cause the body to ap¬
pear to descend obliquely, though but a little, the mo¬
tion being nearer the perpendicular than the horizontal
direction. But the other motion of the earth, or that
in its annual course, is about 20 miles in a second,
which is 80 times greater than the perpendicular de¬
scent in the instance above mentioned ; so that, if this
motion be compounded with the descending one of the
body, it must necessarily give it the appearance of a
very rapid motion, in a direction nearly parallel to the
horizon, but a little declining downwards. A circum¬
stance which exactly agrees with the appearances of
these meteoric bodies, as stated in the second article of
the enumerated phenomena.
“ 3. Again, with regard to the apparent direction of
the body j this will evidently he various, being that
compounded of the body’s descent and the direction of
the earth’s annual motion at the time of the fall, which
is itself various in the different seasons of the year, ac¬
cording to the direction of the several points of the
ecliptic to the earth’s meridian or axis. Usually, how¬
ever, from the great excess of the earth’s motion above
that of the falling body, the direction of this must ap¬
pear to be nearly opposite to that of the foimer. And
in fact this exactly agrees with a remark made by Dr
M E T
Halley, in his account of the meteors iu his paper Meteoro-
above given, where he says that the direction of the lite.
meteor’s motion was exactly opposite to that of the v~——
earth in her orbit. And if this shall generally be found
to be the case, it will prove a powerful confirmation of
this theory of the lunar substances. Unfortunately,
however, the observations on this point are very few,
and mostly inaccurate 5 the angle or direction of the
fallen stones has not been recorded *, and that of the
flying meteor commonly mistaken, all the various ob¬
servers giving it a different course, some even directly
the reverse of others. In future, it will be very ad¬
visable that the observers of fallen stones, observe and
record the direction or bearing of the perforation made
by the body in the earth, which will give us perhaps
the course of the path nearer than any other observa¬
tion.
“ 4. In the flight of these meteoric stones, it is com¬
monly observed, that they yield a loud whizzing sound.
Indeed it would he surprising if they did not. For if
the like sound he given by the smooth and regularly
formed cannon ball, and heard at a considerable dis¬
tance, how exceedingly great must be that of a body
so much larger, which is of an irregular form and sur¬
face too, and striking the air with 50 or too times the
velocity.
“ 5. That they commonly burst'and fly in pieces in
their rapid flight, is a circumstance exceedingly likely
to happen, both from the violent state of fusion on their
surface, and from the extreme rapidity of their motion
through the air. If a grinding stone, from its quick
rotation, be sometimes burst and fly in pieces, and if
the same thing happen to cannon balls when made of
stone and discharged with considerable velocity, merely
by the friction and resistance of the air 5 how much
more is the same to be expected to happen to the at¬
mospheric stones, moving with more than 50 times the
velocity, and when their surface may well be supposed
to be partly loosened or dissolved by the extremity of
the heat there.
“ 6. That the stones strike the ground with a great
force, and penetrate to a considerable depth, as is usu¬
ally observed, is a circumstance only to be expected
from the extreme rapidity of their motion, and their
great weight, when we consider that a cannon ball, or
a mortar shell, will often bury itself many inches, or
even some feet in the earth.
“ 7. That these stones, when soon sought after and
found, are hot, and exhibit the marks of recent fusion,
are also the natural consequences of the extreme degree
of inflammation in which their surface had been put
during their flight through the air.
“ 8. That these stony masses have all the same ex¬
ternal appearance and contexture, as well as internally
the same nature and composition, are circumstances that
strongly point out an identity of origin, whatever may
be the cause to which they owe so generally uniform a
conformation. And when it is considered,
“ 9. That in those respects they differ totally from
all terrestrial compositions hitherto known or discover¬
ed, they lead the mind strongly to ascribe them to some
other origin than the earth we inhabit j and none so
likely as coming from our neighbouring planet.
“ Upon the whole then (continues Dr Hutton), it
appears
[ 703 1
MET [ 704 ] M E T
Meteovo- appears highly probable, that the flainhig meteors, and
Hte, the burning stones, that fall on the earth, are one and
^ .■ ^jie same thing. It also appears impossible, or in the
extremest degree improbable, to ascribe these either to
a formation in the superior parts of the atmosphere, or
to the eruptions of terrestrial volcanoes, or to the gene¬
ration by lightning striking the earth. But, on the
other hand, that it is possible for such masses to be pro¬
jected from the moon so as to reach the earth 5 and that
all the phenomena of these meteors or falling stones,
having a surprising conformity with the circumstances
of masses that may be expelled from the moon by na¬
tural causes, unite in forming a body of strong evi¬
dence, that this is in all probability and actually the
case.
M. Poisson, an ingenious French mathematician, has
shown by an algebraical calculation, the possibility ol a
projectile reaching our planet from the moon. His
calculation, however, which may be found in the work
of Izarn, quoted above, (p. 238. et seq.) proceeds on
the supposition that our satellite has no atmosphere, or
next to none. There are, no doubt, appearances which
seem to favour this supposition, but they do not amount
to positive proof of the fact. Even could the latter be
established, the combustion of a volcano, without the
presence of atmospheric air, would remain to be explain¬
ed. But, granting this difficulty too to be surmounted,
there are other circumstances which we cannot easily
reconcile to the lunar hypothesis. The occasional ar¬
rival of fragments of lava on the earth’s surface, would
argue, on a fair computation of chances, such a copious
discharge of volcanic matters, that the moon, by this
time, would consist of hardly any thing else. Again,
if we may be allowed to reason from analogy, the
volcanic productions of the moon should exhibit varieties
of aspect and composition like those with which we are
acquainted, and not a definite and precise number of
the same ingredients. We may also remark, that the
soft and incoherent state of several of the recent speci¬
mens of meteorolites can ill accord with their supposed
passage through any considerable portion of space ; and
that the J’Aigle phenomenon, which is so distinctly
recorded, evidently suggests the notion of instantaneous
formation in the atmosphere. And, though this view
of the subject may be regarded by some as inexplicable,
we cannot conceive that it is more so than the doctrine
of crystallization, or than many of the results of chemi¬
cal combination, whose existence it is impossible to
deny. These and other arguments may, we apprehend,
be fairly urged against any theory which attempts to
explain the history of meteors by the agency of lunar
volcanoes.
The hypothesis of Dr Chladni, which likewise boasts
of its advocates, though still more extravagant than the
preceding, deserves to be stated. As earthy, metallic,
and other particles form the principal component parts
of our planet, among which iron is the prevailing part,
other planetary bodies, he affirms, may consist of similar,
or, perhaps, the same component parts, though com¬
bined and modified in a very different manner. There jrvtec
may also be dense matters accumulated in smaller mas- lilt,
ses, without being in immediate connexion with the Jar- ^bteorq.
ger planetary bodies, dispersed throughout infinite space,, bigical.
and which, being impelled either by some projecting
power or attraction, continue to move until they ap¬
proach the earth, or some other body ; when, being
overcome by attractive force, they immediately fall
down. By their exceeding great velocity, still increas¬
ed by the attraction of the earth and the violent friction
in the atmosphere, a strong electricity and heat must,
necessarily be excited, by which means they are reduced
to a flaming and melted condition, and great quantities
of vapour and different kinds of gases are thus disen¬
gaged, which distend the liquid mass to a monstrous
size, till, by a still farther expansion of these elastic
fluids, they must at length displode. That portions of
cosmical matter are allowed to revolve in space, and to
terminate their career on the surface of a planet, is a
position too gratuitous and vague, to be readily admit¬
ted, but the belief of which involves no principle of
atheism or impiety, as some of Dr Chladni’s antagonists
have very unhandsomely insinuated. If worlds disap¬
pear and others spring into existence, a sportive imagina¬
tion may be permitted to indulge in the innocent sup¬
position, that fragments of their materials are detached
from their fractured masses, and obey those laws of
attraction which seem to extend their influence to the
remotest corners of the universe.
Such of our readers as are solicitous of obtaining
more ample information on tbe subject of this article,
may consult Irani's Lithologic Atmospheiique; Biot's
Relation d'un Voyage fait dans le departement de /’ Orne,
pour constater la realite d'un Meteore observe a I'Aigle;
Bottiger's Observations on the Accounts given by ancient
authors of Stones said to have fallen from the Clouds ;
Fulda's Memoir on Fire-balls; Cava/lo's Flements of
Natural Philosophy; Klaproth on Meteoric Stones; Sol-
dani's Account of the Tuscan Meteor; Chladni's Treatise
on the Siberian hi ass of Iron; Mr Edward King's
Remarks concerning Stones said to have fallen from the
Clouds ; and several of the more recent transactions of
learned societies and periodical scientific communica¬
tions, as those of the Royal Society of London, of the
Institute at Paris, the Journal de Physique, Annales de
Chimie, Bibliotheque Britannique, Decade Philosophi-
que, Journal des Mines, Philosophical Magazine, Ni¬
cholson’s Journal, &c. &c.
METEOROLOGICAL, something belonging to
meteors.
Meteorological Journal, is a table recording the
daily state of the air, exhibited by tbe barometer,
thermometer, hygrometer, anemometer, and other me¬
teorological instruments. We have many journals of
this kind, kept at the house of the Royal Society,
and by different observers in other places, in the Phi¬
losophical Transactions, the Memoirs of the Academy
ot Sciences, and similar publications.
METEOROLOGY-
[ 7°S ]
fntroduc •
tion.
M E .T E O R O L O G Y.
INTRODUCTION.
bject of A/rETE0ROLOGY is that part of natural science
eteoro- ■*“ which treats of the changes that take place in our
‘gy* atmosphere, as they are perceptible to our senses, or as
tliey are indicated by certain instruments which the in¬
genuity of man or accident has discovered to answer
that purpose. In as far as it describes the phenomena
produced by such changes, meteorology is a depart¬
ment of natural history ; but in its attempts to account
for the appearances, it is almost entirely dependent on
, Natural Philosophy and Chemistry.
s connec- The connection of Meteorology with Chemistry
on with is sufficiently evident to those who take only a super-
lemistiy. ficial view of the subject, though it has only of late at¬
tracted the notice of philosophers. That the air is
sometimes hotter and sometimes colder than usual ; that
it is at one time much rarefied, and at another greatly
condensed ; now uncommonly dry, and now surcharged
with moisture—are circumstances that daily meet the
senses of the most casual observer, as they are circum¬
stances that powerfully, and often unpleasantly, arrest
his attention. That these changes are the result of de¬
compositions and combinations that are continually go¬
ing on in the atmosphere, and of new modifications of
its component principles, is manifest to him who is ac¬
quainted merely with the first elements of modern che¬
mistry.
^ Indeed to modern chemistry this science is indebted
for the progress it has made within the last 50 years ;
a period which may be considered as the second epoch
of meteorology. In fact, this science is still in its in¬
fancy ; but from the ardour with which it is now culti¬
vated, from the abilities of the philosophers who are en¬
gaged in the study, and from the progress that is daily
making in the kindred sciences, we may reasonably
look forward to a period, at no great distance, when it
shall please the great Author of nature to unveil many
of those wonders which are now involved in darkness
and obscurity, and permit us to controul the jarring
elements, as he has allowed us to exercise dominion over
the beasts of the earth, the fowls of the air, and the
4 fishes of the sea.
leans of A late ingenious writer on the climate of Britain has
nproving suggested some useful hints for the improvement of me-
ieteoro- teorology, which we shall here extract. “ With this
view, our first step must be that recommended by Mr
Kirwan and others, to establish corresponding societies
in different parts of the world 5 these societies must be
furnished with similar apparatus, equally adjusted, and
graduated in their construction, for making observations
on the weather. In our own island it will be necessary
to procure registers, carefully kept, from the different
parts of the sea coast, and from those parts of the coun¬
try situated in the interior. The various states of the
barometer, thermometer, hygrometer, and electroscope,
should be cai-efully noted j with the variations and the
degrees of wind, as well as the diurnal and nocturnal
aspect of the heavens discriminately marked 3 the ap-
Yol. XIII. Part II. ' f
pearance of the sky 3 and in familiar language, such as
might be understood by the respective and distant ob¬
servers 3 for instance, whether the sun is totally or par¬
tially obcured by vapour 3—whether the clouds are
mottled, or fleaky 3—whether they assume the appear¬
ance of horizontal streaks, or appear in radii apparently
from a centre—or in masses of dense vapour—or
loose and fleecy—or those familiarly known by the
name of mare-tail clouds—with any other new or ac¬
customed phenomena. The common terms fair, cloudy,
or tcet, are insufficient for forming a judgment of the
weather 3 as the term fair is generally at present ex¬
pressed only in opposition to rain, without distinguish¬
ing whether the atmosphere is obscure, dull, or bright.
The appearance of the stratum of air on the earth’s sur¬
face, that is, the space bet ween the clouds and the earth,
should be always accurately described. Is there a blue
haze, white mist, and dense fog ? or is the air transpa¬
rent ? which is the case when distant objects appear
more than commonly distinct and near to the eye of the
observer: the temperature of the ocean yd full tide should
be frequently ascertained, as it will be found to have
considerable influence in these respects on an insular coun¬
try. By the remarks of observers, stationed in various
parts of our coasts, we should soon be enabled to disco¬
ver when vapour is wafted in from the sea, or genera¬
ted by the aqueous and vegetable surface of our island.
During a north-west wind, which -is frequently attend¬
ed with storms of hail and rain, and usually experienced
in the spring, an observer stationed on the coast of Sligo
in Ireland, or Denbighshire in Wales, might ascertain
whether the disposition of the atmosphere to storm and
cloud came in with the air from the Atlantic ocean,
or was generated by the vapours of our own island. It
would be desirable also again, that the temperature and
blue hazy appearance of the atmosphere during the
north-east winds, so common in May and June, should be
noticed by observers on the north-east coast, in the coun¬
ties of York, Lincoln, Essex, and Kent 3 and by others,
on the opposite western coasts of Pembroke, Devon, and
Cornwall, so as to determine what changes in tempera¬
ture this wind undergoes in its passage over the island 3
and whether or not the degree of haze increases or di¬
minishes by its progress from either quarter 3 and whe¬
ther the vapour is more or less disposed to produce storms ?
By such comparative observations on the coast, con¬
joined with those made by others in the central parts
of the kingdom, we might rapidly proceed in meteo¬
rological science, or, as it is commonly called, a know¬
ledge of the weather. The observations made in the
interior of the country would enable us at all times to
trace the origin and progress of storms: in situations
where tillage or pasturage is most attended to, the ef¬
fects of spring frosts and blights should be particularly
noticed, as well as the first appearance of the aphis and
coccus, the caterpillar and larvae of other insects, on
fruit trees, and particularly those peculiar to the hop
plantations. The first opening of the vernal foliage on
trees and hedges in the spring, should likewise be re¬
marked, and compared with the starting up grass on the
4 U highly
-C6 M E T E O
/
Introduce liigluy manured pastures in the neighbourhood of towns,
tion. and on those also assisted with manure, as well as the
"““'v—natural herbage on the commons and wastes. Some at¬
tention should be paid to the effects of thunder storms,
in destroying the aphis and other destructive insects, the
pest of fruit and hop plantations j and the first appear¬
ance of the mildew or rust on wheat should be particu¬
larly observed, and remarks made to ascertain, whether
or not the moisture, which occasions the disease in its
commencement was attended with wind and rain, or a
close damp state of the air. The different kinds of soil,
* Williams where the crops, from the disease, suffered most, should
an the Cli- i,e noticed, and the situation of the land for ventilation,
mate of t|ie jiej„|)t 0f fences, size of inclosures, and vi-
cinity to coppices, trees, or hedge-rows*.”
Importance The importance of the study of meteorology requires
of the sci- little elucidation. In climates where the succession of
cllce• seasons is nearly stated and regular, where the periods
of parching drought or deluging torrents, of the tempes¬
tuous hurricane or the refreshing breeze, are fixed and
ascertained, mankind has little to do, but expect the
dreaded changes, and provide against their devastations j
but in countries like our own, where all the vicissitudes
of seasons may take place in the course of a few hours,
it is of the highest consequence to investigate the nature
of the change, and the circumstances that precede or
accompany it. To the farmer, the mariner, the tra¬
veller, the physician, meteorology is in some measure a
study of necessity ; to the philosopher it is a study of in¬
terest and delight *, and to the observer of nature it af¬
fords objects of grandeur and sublimity not to be found
in any other department of his favourite science. Surely
nothing can contribute more to elevate the mind ot man,
to raise it “ from nature up to nature’s God,” than the
contemplation of the sweeping whirlwind, the dazzling
lightning, or the awful thunder.
Our limits will not admit of our entering into a his¬
torical detail of the progress of meteorology j but it
may be proper in this place to enumerate the principal
writers on this science both in our own country and on
the continent.
In this country, we may reckon Dr Kirwan, (in his
“ Estimate of the Temperature of different Climates”),
his “ Essay on the Variations of the Atmosphere,” and
in the Irish Transactions,” Mr John Dalton (chiefly
K O L O G Y. Chap. i.
in the “ Manchester Memoirs”), Col. Capper (in his introduc-
“ Observations on the Winds and Monsoons”), Mr lion.
Williams (in his “ Climate of Great Britain”), and “v——J
Mr Luke Howard (in the Philosophical Magazine), Writ^
as the principal cultivators of meteorological know-meteoro_
ledge ; and on the continent, the names of Cotte lo^y.
(“ Traite de Meteorologie?"1 and Journal de Physique'),
Saussure (“ Essai sur PHygronietrieP and Voyage aux
Alpes'1'1), De Luc (a) (“ Recherches sur les Modifica¬
tions de VAtmosphere “ Idees sur la Meteorologiefi and
other works), and Lamarck (see Journ. de Phys. pas¬
sim) stand most conspicuous in this branch of natural
science. The names of some of the moi’e recent writers
are mentioned in the article Meteorology, Supple¬
ment, which see.
In considering the subject of meteorology, we may 7
properly divide it into seven general heads : 1. Of the
changes which take place in the gravity of the air j
2. Of the changes of the temperature of the air; 3. Of
the changes produced by evaporation and rain ; 4. Of
the changes produced by winds; 5. Of atmospherical
electricity ; 6. Of meteors, or those visible phenomena
accompanied with light, which take place in the atmo¬
sphere or near the surface of the earth; and, 7. The
application of the principles of meteorology to the use¬
ful purposes of life. Of these heads, the fifth has been
already fully considered under Electricity, and much
of the sixth has been exhausted under Meteorolite.
The remaining circumstances will form the subjects of
the following chapters.
Chap. I. Of the Changes ‘which take place in the
Gravity of the Mir.
Many of the facts relating to this part of our subject
have been already anticipated under the article Baro¬
meter, and several circumstances fall to be considered
more properly under Pneumatics than in this place.
We shall here confine ourselves to a general view of the
changes in the gravity of the atmosphere, as indicated
by the barometer, in various situations on or near the
surface of the earth, and briefly examine the conclusions
that may be drawn from them. §
The most general fact indicated by the barometer is, Mercury
that this instrument shews us the weight of a column of stands
•, highest at
the level oil
     the sea.
(a) In again mentioning the name of a philosopher so respectable as M. de Luc, we embrace the first oppor¬
tunity of doing him justice, and of vindicating his character against an unfortunate misconception of the late Pro¬
fessor Robison, a mistake which we have inadvertently contributed to disseminate, by quoting Dr Robison’s state¬
ment in our account of Dr Black, where M. de Luc is accused of having arrogated to himself Dr Black’s disco¬
very of Ihtcnt heat.
M. de Luc’s vindication of himself (as printed in the 12th number of the Edinburgh Review) is before the
. public. We owe it to candour and justice to acknowledge our conviction that Dr Robison was too hasty in his as-
J section, and that M. de Luc, so far from arrogating to himself the doctrine of latent heat, has, in various parts of
his numerous writings, expressly mentioned Dr Black as the author of that doctrine. This will appear from the
following citations. In his “ Introduction a la Physique terrestre,” p. 102, M. de Luc thus expresses himself. “ Ne
connoissant point le feu latent, dans la vapeur a toute temperature, dont la premiere decouverte est due au Dr Black,
&c. Again, p. 232. of the same work. “ Ce qui developpoit 1’idee de chaleur latentepar laquelle le Dr Black
avoit designe xe phenomine—and at p. 385, “ Le Dr Black ayant decouvert qu’une certaine quantite de chaleur
disparoit quand la vapeur de 1’eau bouillante se forme, nomma ce phenomene chaleur latente dans la vapeur.”
We trust that these quotations, with M. de Luc’s own justification of himself above referred to, will be sufficient
to exculpate him from the charge oi literary felony so warmly brought against him by Professor Robison ; and we*
have no doubt the Professor himself, were he still alive, would under such evidence retract his accusation.
Dliap. I.
M E T E O R O L O G Y.
7°7
Gravity of whose base is equal to the diameter of the mercury
the Air~ . ’n t^ie tu^e> and whose height is equal to the extent
* of the atmosphere above the place of observation. As
the height of this column must vary in different situa¬
tions, and must, cceteris paribus, be greatest at the level
of the sea, the mercury in the tube will, under the
9 same circumstances, stand highest in such a situation^
eightHp ^'3e me(^um height of the barometer at the level of
aciies.J sea 3° inches, as has been found by observations
in the British channel, and in the Mediterranean sea,
at the temperatures of 550 and 6o° 5 on the coast of
Peru at the temperature of 84°, and in latitude 8o°.
As we ascend above the surface of the earth, the me¬
dium height of the mercury diminishes ; and some late
observations made in balloons at a considerable distance
above the tops of the highest mountains, have shewn
that in the higher regions of the air, the column of
mercury is very considerably shortened. This fact, as
we have seen (see Barometer), has been usefully ap¬
plied to the measuring of heights and depths that can¬
not be ascertained by the usual geometrical methods.
As the absolute gravity of the atmosphere is constantly
varying even in the same place, the column of air pres ■
sing on the surface of the mercury without the tube,
must press with more or less force, in proportion as
these changes are greater ; and hence the barometer
points out these variations, falling when the atmosphere
is lighter, and rising when it is heavier than usual.
F or an account of the observations that were made on
the rise and fall of the barometer by the earlier philoso¬
phers, and the attempts which were made by them to
explain these phenomena, see Bar.ometer.
It will be of advantage here to consider the varia¬
tions of the barometer, as they take place in different
situations, in order, if possible, to point out the cause
by which these variations are produced, as this cause
must have considerable influence on the changes of the
weather.
j ariation f°und, that between the tropics the variations
the baro-of the barometer are exceedingly small, and it is re-
eter be- markable, that in that part of the world it does not dc-
1 (opiesv^r Scen^ a^ove as much for every 200 feet of elevation
lalL Ver^as it does beyond the tropics*. In the torrid zone,
Jour, de too, the barometer is elevated about of a line twice
[ tys' 1790. every day ; and this elevation happens at the same time
[Md t^eS t^ie sea E
As the latitude advances towards the ])oles, the range
of the barometer gradually increases, till at last it
amounts to two or three inches. This gradual increase
Kirw. appear from the following table.
idiTrans.
*■ hi- 47* Table of the Range of the Barometer.
Asiatic ° J
searches,
1- ii. Ap-
ndix.
J a richest,
m. vol.
Edin.
‘ans. vol.
Trans,
dladelph.
* Edm.
Otis. vol.
22 9.
Latitude.
O”
22 22'
4° 55
5i 3
53 J3
53 23
59 56
Places.
Peru
Calcutta
Naples
Dover
Middlewick
Liverpool
Petersburg!]
Range of the Barometer.
Greatest
0.20 *
0.77 f
1.00 X
2.47 §
3.00 ]
2.89
3-45
Annual.
I.80
I.94
I.96
2.77
There is, however, some exception to this general Gravity of
rule, as in North America the range of the barometer the Air.
is much less than in the corresponding European lati- l'“‘ v~"~~
tudes.
The range of the barometer is greater at the level
of the sea than on mountains, and in the same degree
of latitude the extent of the range is in the inverse
ratio of the height of the place above the level of the
sea.
It appears probable that the barometer has a ten¬
dency to rise during the day from morning to evening,
and that this tendency is greatest between 2 and 9
P. M. the greatest elevation being at this last period.
The elevation at 2 differs from that at 9 by -£?■> while
that at 2 difl'ers from the morning elevation only by
1^2 j and that in certain climates the greatest elevation
takes place at 2 o’clock *. * Jour, de
The range of the barometer is greater in winter than I’tys. 1790.
in summer, as appears from some observations made at*1 I1‘
Kendal during five years 5 the mean range from Octo¬
ber to March being 7.982, and that from April to
September being only 5.447 f. \ManchesL
When the atmosphere is serene and settled the mer- Mem. vol.
cury is generally high •, and in calm weather, when it1Vl I’1 547-
is inclined to rain, the mercury is low. On the ap¬
proach of high winds it sinks, as it does with a southerly
wind, but rises very high on the approach of easterly
and northerly winds. It is found, however, that at Cal¬
cutta the mercury is highest with north-westerly and
northerly, and lowest with south-easterly winds.
The mercury suddenly falls on the approach of tem¬
pests, and during their continuance undergoes great os¬
cillations.
To these general facts that have been observed on
the rise and fall of the barometer, we shall annex the
following axioms by M. Cotte. 12
1. The greatest changes of the barometer commonly Cotte’s axi-
take place during clear weather, with a north wind ;-°ms 011 l^lc
-*• 7 a 9 s barometer,
and the small risings during cloudy, rainy, or windy
weather, with a south, or nearly south wind.
2. The state of the mercury changes more in the
winter than in the summer months ; so that its greatest
rising and falling takes place in winter j but its mean
elevation is greater in summer than in winter.
3. The changes of the state of the barometer are
nearly null at the equator, and become greater the
more one removes from it towards the poles.
4. They are more considerable in valleys than on
mountains. „
5. The more variable the wind, the more changeable
the state of the barometer.
6. It is lower at midnight and noon than at other
periods of the day j its greatest daily height is towards •
evening.
7. Between 10 at night and 2 in the morning, and
also in the day, the rising and falling of the mercury
are less; the contrary is the case between 6 and 10 in
the morning and evening.
8. Between 2 and 6 in the morning and evening it
rises as often as it falls; but in such a manner that it
oftener rises about that time in the winter months, and
falls oftener in the summer months.
9. The oscillations are less in summer, greater in
winter, and very great at the equinoxes.
4 U 2 10. They "
708
Gravity of 10. They are greater also in the (laytime than during
the Air. the night.
' "~v II. The higher the sun rises above the horizon, the
Jess are the oscillations ; they increase as he approaches
the western side of the horizon, and are exceedingly
great when he comes opposite to the eastern part of the
horizon.
12. They are, to a certain degree, independent of
the changes of temperature.
13. The mercury generally rises between the new
and the full moon, and falls between the latter and the
new moon.
14. It rises more in the apogee than the perigee*,
it usually rises between the northern lunistice and the
southern, and falls between the southern lunistice and
the northern.
15. In general, a comparison of the variations of
the mercury w ith the positions of the moon gives nothing
certain j the results of N° 13. and 14. are the most
constant.
16. In the neighbourhood of Paris the barometer ne¬
ver continues 24 hours without changing.
17. The barometers in the western districts rise and
fall sooner than those in the more eastern.
18. When the sun passes the meridian, the mercury,
if falling, continues to fall, audits fall is often hastened.
19. When the mercury at the same period is rising,
it falls, remains stationary, or rises more slowly.
20. \V hen the mercury, under the same circumstances,
is stationary, it falls, unless, before or after it becomes
stationary, it has been in the act of rising.
21. The above changes commonly take place between
11 in the morning and 1 in the afternoon, but oftener
before than after noon.
22. Before high tides there is almost always a great
fall of the mercury j this takes place oftener at the full
than the new moon.
Such is a general view of the variations in the gra¬
vity of the air, as far as they have been observed by the
barometer ; and we shall nqw endeavour to give some
plausible theory of them.
Ataio- It •is. evident that the density of the atmosphere is
formsTtw ^eaSt at ^ie eTiator> an(l greatest at the poles j for at
incline^0 t^e e(lliator the centrifugal force, the distance from
planes centre of the earth, and the heat (all of which
meeting at tend to diminish the density of the air), are at their
the equa- maximum, tvhile at the poles they are at their mini¬
mum. The mean he'ght of the barometer at the level
of the sea, all over the globe, is 30 inches j the weight
of the atmosphere, therefore, is the same all over the
globe. This weight depends on the density and height
of the air 5 where the density is greatest, its height
must be least; and on the contrary, where its density is
least, its height must be greatest. The height of the
atmosphere, therefore, must be greatest at the equator,
and least at the poles} and it must decrease gradually
between the equator and the poles, so that its upper
surface will resemble two inclined planes, meeting above
-* Irish the equator their highest parts *.
Tram vol. During summer, when the sun is in our hemisphere,
a. p. 43, the mean heat between the equator and the pole does
not difer so much as in winter. Hence the rarity of
the atmosphere at the pole, and consequently its height,
will be increased. The upper surface of the atmo¬
sphere, therefore, in the northern hemisphere, will be
Chap. I,
less inclined } while that of the southern hemisphere, -Gravity 0r
from contrary causes, will be much more inclined, the Air.
The reverse will take place during our winter. —v——
The density of the atmosphere depends in a great
measure on the pressure of the superincumbent column,
and therefore decreases according to the height, as the
pressure of the superincumbent column constantly de¬
creases. But the density of the atmosphere in the torrid
zone will not decrease so fast as in the temperate and
frigid zones, because its column is larger, and because
there is a greater proportion of air in the higher part
of this column. This accounts for the observation of
Mr Casson, that the barometer sinks only half as much
for every 200 feet of elevation in the torrid as in the
temperate zones. The density of the atmosphere at
the equator, therefore, though at the surface of the earth
it is less, must at a certain height equal, and at a still
greater must exceed, the density of the atmosphere in
the temperate zones and at the poles.
We shall presently endeavour to prove, that a quan- Why the
tity of air is constantly ascending at the equator, and mercury is
that part of it at least reaches and continues in tiie highest in
higher parts of the atmosphere. From the fluidity of nort]ierr,a
air it is evident that it cannot accumulate above the latitudes,
equator, but must roll down the inclined plane which
the upper surface of the atmosphere assumes towards
the poles. As the surface of the atmosphere of the
northern hemisphere is more inclined during our winter
than that of the southern hemisphere, a greater quanti¬
ty of the equatorial current of air must flow over upon
the northern than upon the southern hemisphere 5 so
that the quantity of our atmosphere will he greater du¬
ring winter than that of the southern hemisphere , but
during summer the reverse will take place. Hence
the greatest mercurial heights take place during winter,
and the range of the barometer is less in summer than
in winter.
The density of the atmosphere is in a great measure
regulated by the heat of the place; wherever the cold
is greatest, there the density of the atmosphere will be
greatest, and its column shortest. High countries, and
ranges of lofty mountains, the tops of which are covered
with snow the greatest part of the year, must he much
colder than other places situated in the same degree
of latitude, and consequently the column of air over
them much shorter. The current of superior air will
linger and accumulate over these places in its passage
towards the poles, and thus occasion an irregularity in
its motion, which will produce a similar irregularity in
the barometer. Such accumulations will be formed
over the north-western parts of Asia, and over North
America j hence the barometer usually stands higher,
and varies less there, than in Europq. Accumulations
also are formed upon the Pyrenees, the Alps, the
mountains of Africa, Turkey in Europe, Tartary, and
Tibet. When these accumulations have gone on for
some time, the density of the air becomes too great to
he balanced by the surrounding atmosphere j it rushes
down on the neighbouring countries, and produces cold
winds which raise the barometer. Hence the rise of
the barometer which generally attends north-east winds
in Europe, as they proceed from accumulations in the
north-west of Asia, or about the pole ; hence, too, the
north-west wind from the mountains of Tibet raises the
barometer at Calcutta.
METEOROLOGY.
We
hap. I.
METEOROLOGY.
7°9
•avity of We shall presently endeavour to shew, that consider-
iic Air. able quantities of air are occasionally destroyed in the
"v ' north polar regions. When this happens, the atmosphere
to the south rushes in to supply the deficiency. Hence
south-west winds take place, and the barometer falls.
As the mean heat of our hemisphere dift’ers in dif¬
ferent years, the density of the atmosphere, and conse¬
quently the quantity of equatorial air which flows to¬
wards the poles, must also be variable. Hoes this
range correspond to the mean annual heat •, that is to
sav, Is the range greatest when the heat is least, and
least when the heat is greatest ? In some years greater
accumulations than usual take place in the mountainous
parts of the south of Europe and Asia, owing, pei'haps,
to earlier falls of snow or to the rays of the sun having
been excluded by long-continued fogs. When this
takes place, the atmosphere in the polar x-egions will
be proportionably lighter. Hence the prevalence of
southerly winds during some winters more than others.
As the heat in the torrid zone never dift’ei'S much,
the density, and consequently the height, of the atmo-
sphere, will not vary much. Hence the range of the
barometer within the tropics is comparatively small;
and it incx-eases gradually as we approach the poles,
because the difference of the temperature, and conse¬
quently of the density, of the atmosphere, increases
with the latitude.
The diurnal elevation of the barometer in the torrid
zone corresponding to the tides, observed by Mr Casson
and others, must be owing to the influence of the moon
on the atmosphere. This influence, notwithstanding
the ingenious attempts of H’Alembert and several other
philosophers, seem altogether inadequate to account
for the various phenomena of the winds. It is not so
easy to account for the tendency which the barometer
has to rise as the day advances. Perhaps it may be ac¬
counted for by the additional quantity of vapour added
to the atmosphere, which by increasing the quantity of
the atmosphere, may possibly be adequate to produce
the effect.
The falls of the barometer which precede, and the
oscillations which accompany, violent storms and hurri¬
canes, shew us that these phenomena are produced by
very gx-eat rarefactions, or perhaps destructions of air,
in particular parts of the atmosphere. The falls of the
barometer, too, that accompany winds, proceed from
the same cause. The observation made by Mr Cop¬
land, that a high barometer is accompanied by a tem¬
perature above the mean, will be easily accounted for
by evei-y one acquainted with Dr Black’s theory' oi la¬
tent heat. The higher the mercury stands, the denser
the atmosphere must be ; and the denser it becomes,
the more latent heat it must give out. It is well known
that air evolves heat when condensed artificially. The
falling of the barometer, which generally precedes rain,
remains still to be accounted for j but tve know too lit¬
tle about the causes by which rain is produced, to be
able to account for it in a satisfactory manner.
It has been for some time suspected that the valua¬
tion of the barometer is affected by the changes of the
moon. The theory of lunar influence has been discus¬
sed on the continent chiefly by Lamarck and Cotte,
(see Journal de Physique, passim) ; and in this country
by Mr Luke Howard. Mr Howard’s suspicions of this
influence on the barometer were first conceived, in con¬
sequence of the printed charts, of which he made use Gravity of
in keeping a register of the barometer, having the the Air-
phases of the moon marked on them, and of his observ- v ' *
ing a remarkable coincidence between these and certain
states of the mercury. This coincidence consists in the
depression of the barometrical line on the approach of
the new and full moon, and its elevation on that of the
quarters. In above 30 out of the 50 lunar weeks in
the year 1798, the barometer was found to have chan¬
ged its general direction once in each week, in such a
manner as to be either rising or at its maximum, for the
week preceding and following, about the time of each
quarter \ and to be either falling or at its minimum, for
the two weeks, about the new and full, It is remark¬
able, that the point of gi’eatest depression during the
year, viz. to 28.67, was found about 12 hours after
the new moon on the 8th of November 5 and, that at
its greatest and extraordinary elevation to 30.89, on
the 7th of Febi-uary, at the time of the last quarter.
Moreover, this coincidence appeared to take place most
regularly in fair and moderate weather j and, in gene¬
ral, when the barometer fell, during the interval be¬
tween the new or full moon and the quarters, an evi¬
dent perturbation in the atmosphere accompanied j of
which may be instanced February 15. to 23. when the
barometer, after an uncommon rise, continued to fall
rapidly after the new moon, with severe cold, which
ended suddenly in stormy and wet weather: again*
June 13. to 20. when two weeks of fair weather ended
in a thunder storm. In the greater part of December
the usual coincidence disappeared, and the converse
took place j the barometer being low7 at the quarter
and high at the full, amidst continual alternations of
rain, frost, ami snow, and, for part of the time, high
winds. On the two days preceding the last quarter,
the baropxeter rose rapidly, and rain followed.
On the w hole, Mr Howard thought there appeared
sufficient ground, on the evidence of the year 1798, to
suppose that the gravity of our atmosphei'e, as indicated
by the barometer, may be subject to certain periodical
changes, effected by a cause more steady and regular
than eitlier change of temperature, currents, or solu¬
tion and precipitation of water, to which he believes
the whole variation has been heretofore attributed.
The mean of the register at large appeared to be
29.89, whence it appears that the depression at the new
and full moon either amounted to more, on the whole,
than the elevations at the quarters, or that they fell
out nearer to the time. He was quite satisfied, in pas¬
sing through this register, that if he had alloxved him¬
self to choose the higher x'otations about the quarters, and.
the lower about the new and full, with a latitude of 24
or 36 hours, it would have made the results as much
more favourable to his conclusions as in the former case.
Now, to omit the consideration of other proofs for
the present, it appeared to him evident, that the atmo¬
sphere is subject to a periodical change of gravity,
whereby the barometer, on a mean of ten years, is de¬
pressed at least one-tenth of an inch while the moon is
passing from the quarters to the full and new 5 and ele¬
vated, in the same proportion, during the return to the
quarter. To what causes shall we attribute this perio¬
dical change, other than the attraction of the sun and
moon for the matter composing the atmosphere ?
The atmosphere is a gravitating fluid, differing, in a
physical
ture of
•the Air.
* Phil.
Mag. vo!.
P-35:
710 M E T E O
Tempera- physical sense, from the water, chiefly in possessing less
gravity j and it is demonstrated a priori on the princi-
j ples of the Newtonian philosophy, that it ought to have
its tides as well as the ocean, although in a degree as
much less perceptible as is its gx-avity.
He supposes, thei'efore, that the joint attractions of
the sun and moon at the new moon, and the attraction of
the moon predominating over the sun’s weaker attrac¬
tion at the full, tend to depress the barometer, by tak¬
ing oft fi'om the gravity of the atmosphere, as they
produce a high tide in the waters, by taking off from
their gi-avity ; and, again, that the atti’action of the
moon being diminished by that of the sun at her quar¬
ters, this diminution tends to make a high barometer,
together with a low tide, by permitting each fluid to
press with additional gravity upon the earth *.
'Chap. II. Of the Changes "which take place in the
‘Temperature of the Air\
It is obvious to the most careless observer, that the
temperature of the air varies considerably even in the
same place, and at the same season. This constant va¬
riation must be attributed to the reflected rays of the
sun, which communicate heat from the surface of the
earth to the surrounding atmosphere. As from this
cause the heat of those places which ai'e so situated as
to be most warmed by the sun’s rays is always greatest,
and as this temperature varies in every place with the
season of the year, and diminishes according to the
height of the air above the surface \ and as the earth
at the equator is exposed to the most perpendicular rays
of the sun, the earth is there hottest, and its heat dimi¬
nishes gradually from the equator to the poles. Of
course, the temperature of the air must vary in the same
manner, being hottest over the equator, and diminish¬
ing in temperature towards the poles, where it is cold¬
est. Though it is hottest at the equator, its heat, as
in all other situations, gradually diminishes there, as we
ascend above the surface of the earth.
R O L O G Y. Chap. II
Though thei'e is a considerable diffei’ence in eveiy Tempera-
part of the world between the temperature of the at- ture of
mosphere in summer and in winter 5 though in the same , t^e A‘r-
season the temperature of almost every day, and even ~ v ~
every hour, differs from that which precedes and fol¬
lows it; though the heat varies continually in the most
irregular and seemingly capricious manner—still there
is a certain mean temperature in every climate, which
the atmosphere has always a tendency to observe, and
which it neither exceeds nor comes short of beyond a
certain number of degrees. What this temperature is,
may be known by taking the mean of tables of observa¬
tions kept for a number of years ; and our knowledge
of it must be the more accurate the greater the number
of observations is. ^
The mean annual temperature is greatest at the equa- Mean aa-
tor (or at least a degree or two on the north side of it), nual inl¬
and it diminishes gradually towards the poles, where it Perature
is least. This diminution takes place in arithmetical fhetqua-*
progression, or, to speak more properly, the annual tor. j
temperatures of all the latitudes are arithmetical means
between the mean annual temperatxwe of the equator
and that of the pole. This was first ascertained by Mr
Meyer ; and Dr Kirwan, improving on Meyer’s hint,
has calculated in the following table the mean annual
temperature of every latitude between the equator and
the pole. It must be remarked, however, that this
table is calculated only for a particular part of the
earth’s surface, viz. that part of the Atlantic ocean
which lies between the 8o° of northern, and the 450 of
southern latitude, extending westward as far as the Gulf
stream, and to within a few leagues of the coast of
America, and for all that part of the Pacific ocean that
reaches from 450 of north latitude to 40° of south lati¬
tude, and extending between the 20th and 275th de-
gx-ee of longitude east from London. This part of the
ocean is called by Dr Kirwan the standard, and was
best suited to his purpose, as the rest of the ocean is
subject to ix-regularities, which will be noticed px-esent-
ly (d). See the Article Climate, Supplement.
the pointm- V r in^ Y, ai e1’ ^ 1 ^irwan proceeded on the following principle. Let the mean annual heat at
tude will he m ^ ,a »e e* kUt ^ f°r a,,y other latitude ; the mean annual temperature of that lati-
mav he fnnnrl tv ^ * ’ therefore, the tempex-atui'e of any two latitudes be known, the value of m and n
on, xe tempexature oi north latitude 40° has been found by the best observations to be 62.1°,
4 and
M E T E O R 0 L O G Y
[rap. II.
ivi jq, i xv w Lr x. y i l
:mpera-
urc of Dr Kirwan lias also calculated iu the following table the mean monthly temperature of the same standard (e). ture of
■1£ tlie Air.
Latit.
8oe
Jan.
Feb.
March
April
May
June
July
Aug.
Sept.
Oct.
Nov.
Dec.
22.
23-
27.
3 2.6
36.5
51-
5°-
39-5
33-5
28.5
23-
22.5
Latit.
Jan.
Feb.
March
April
May
June
July
Aug.
Sept.
Oct.
Nov.
Dec.
6i°
32.
34-
39-
43-5
48.
56.
55-5
52.
47-
40.
35-
33-
Latit.
Jan.
Feb.
March
\pril
May
June
July
Auer.
Sept.
Oct.
Nov.
Dec.
42u
46.
49.
58.5
60.3
66.
69.
70.
70.
68.
58.
54-
52-
79
22.5
23-
27-5
32.9
3 6-5
51*
5°*
40.
34-
29.
23-5
23-
78°
z3*
23-5
28.
33- 2
37-
5i-5
50.5
41*
34- 5
29-5
24.
23-5
77
23- 5
24.
28.5
33-7
37-5
52.
51*
35*
30-
24- 5
24.
76° ; 75° 74°
24. [24.5
24.5 [25.
29. 29.5
34- 1 34-5
38. 38.5
52. 52.
5r- 51*
42. 142.5
35- 5 [36.
3°-5 3I*
25-
24-5
25-5
25.
25-
25-5
3°-
35*
39-
5 2-5
SM
43*
36.5
3r*5
26.
25-5
73 72(
25-5
26.
3o-5
35-5
39-5
53-
52.
43-5
37-
32.
26.5
26.
26.
26.5
31-
36.
40.
53-5
52.5
44-
38.
32.5
27-
26.5
71
26.5
27.
36.6
40.5
54-
53-
44-5
38.5
33-
27-5
27.
7c0 69° 68° 67° 66° 65° 64° 63° 62°
27-
27-5
32.
37-2
4r-
54-
53-5
45*
39-
33-5
28.
27-3
27-5
28.
32.5
37-8
4I-5
54-5
53-5
45-5
39-5
34-
28.5
28.
27-5
28.
33-
38.4
42.
54-5
53-5
46.
40.
34-
29.
28.
28.
28.5
33*5
39-1
42.5
54-5
54-
47-
41*
35-
3°-
29.
28.
29.
34-
39-7
43-
55*
54-5
48.
42.
36-
3x-
3°*
28.
3°.
33*
4°*4
44.
33-
34*3
48-3
43*
37*
32.
3°*3
29.
31*
36.
41.2
43*
33-3
33*
49.
44.
37*3
32.3
31*
6oc
33*
33*
40.
44-3
49.
56.
56.
33*
48.
41*
36.
34*
39
34*
36.
41.
43-o9
3°*
36.3
36.5
54*
49.
42.
37*
33*
38°
33*
37*
42.
43*8
31*
37*
37-
33-
3°*
43-
38-
36-
37
36.
38.
43*
46.6
32-
37-
57-3
56.
31*
44.
39*
37-
36°
37
39
44.6
47
S3-
57-3
58.
37-
32.
43-
40.
38.
33
38.
40.
43*
3 48-4
34-
58.
39-
58.
33*
46.
4r*
39-
34
39-
41*
46.
49.2
33*
58.5
60.
59-
34-
47-
42.
40.
33
40.
42.
48.
30.2
36.
39-
61.
60.
33*
48.
43-
41.
4il
46.3
3°’
39-3
61.2
67.
7°.
70.
70.
69-3
39-
53*
33-
40^
49-3
J3*
60.
62.x
68.
73-3
71*
71*
7°’3
60.
36.
34-
39
31-
36-3
60.5
63-
69.
71*
7T*
71*
71*
6x.
37*
33-
38c
32.
58.
61.
63-9
70.
71-
72.
72.
7i-3
62.
58.
36-
37
53-3
60.
62.
64.8
7°’3
71’
72.
72.
72.
63*
59*
37*
36° 33°
53-
61.
63-
36.3
62.
64.
63.7 66.6
7r* l7I-3
71- 3 |7I-3
72- 3I72-3
72-3 j72-3
72-3 i72-3
64. I65.
60. 61.
38- |39*
34
39-3
63*
63-
67.4
72.
72.
72-3
72.3
72.5
66.
62.
60.
32°
41*
43-
49.
51,1
37-
39*
62.
6r.
36.
49*
44- 3
42.
3ic
42.
44-
30*
32.4
38.
60.
63-
62.
37-
30*
46.
44.
3°
42.3
44-3
30.3
32.9
38.3
61.
63-3
63-3
38.3
30-3
46-3
44-3
49
43*3
44-3
3i*
33-8
39*
62.
64.
64.
39-
31*
47-
43-
48°
43-
43*
32.3
34-7
60.
63-
63.
63*
60.
32-
48.
46.
47
42- 3
43- 3
33*
33-6
61.
64.
66.
66.
61.
33-
49.
47*
46°
44.
46.
33*3
56-4
62.
63.
67.
67.
62.
34-
3°’
48.
3°-
32-
37-
4r-9
46.
33- 3
33*
30*
43*
38.
33-
31*
3r*
33*
38.
42.7
47*
36.
33-5
31*
46.
39-
34*
32.
43
44-3
4^-3
34-3
37-3
63-
66.
68.
68.
63-
33*
1.
49.
44u
43-
47-
33-3
58.4
64.
67.
69.
69.
64.
56.
32-
3°*
43
43*3
48.
56.3
39-4
63-
68.
69-3
69*3
66.
37*
53*
31*
33
63*
64-3
66.5
68.3
72.3
72-3
72-3
72-3
72-3
67-3
63-
6r.
32L
63*
66.
67.3
69.1
73*
73*
73*
73*
73*
68.5
64-3
62.5
31
63*
67.
68.5
69.9
73-
73*
73*
73*
73-
69*3
64-3
63-3
3°
63-3
68.5
69-3 7
7°*7
73-3
73*3
73-3
73-3
73-3
7°’3 7
66.5
64-3
29
63-3
68.5
7I>3
74*3
74*3
74-3
74*3
74*
1.
68.
66.
28°
63’3
69’3
72.
72- 3
73- 3
73*3
73-3
73*3
73*3
72.5
69.
67.
27
64.
69-3
72-3
72.8
76.
76.
76.
76.
76.
72-3
69’3
67*3
26°
64-3
7°-3
73*
73-8
76-3
76.3
76.3
76.3
76.3
73-
7i-3
68.5
23
63.3
71*
73- 3
74- 3
77-3
78.
78.
78.
77-3
73-3
72.
69-3
24
67.
72.
74-3
73- 4
78.
78.5
78.3
78.3
78.
74- 3
73-3
70.
Latit.
and that of latitude 50°, 52.90. The square of the sine of 40° is nearly O.419, and the square of the sine of 500
is nearly 0.586. Therefore,
m—0.41 «=:62.i, and
m—0.58 71—52.9 ; therefore,
62.1-1-0.41 11=52.9 + 058 n,
as each of them, from the two first equations, is equal to m. From this last equation the value of n is found to
be nearly 53 j and m is nearly equal to 84. The mean temperature of the equator, therefore, is 84°, and that of
the pole 31°. To find the mean temperatm-e for every other latitude we have only to find 88 arithmetical means
between 84 and 31.
(e) In calculating the table of mean monthly temperature, Dr Kirwan proceeded on the following principles.
The mean temperature of April seems to approach very nearly to the mean temperature of the whole year, and
as far as heat depends on the action of the solar rays, the- mean heat of each month may be considered as propor¬
tional
712
METEOROLOGY.
Tempera¬
ture of
the Air.
Latit.
Jan.
Feb.
March
April
May
June
July
Aug.
Sept.
Oct.
Nov.
Dec.
23
68,
72,
75'
75'
78.
79-
|79-
79-
78.
75-
74-
l1'
22c
69.
7 2-5
75- 5
76- 5
79-5
79*5
79*5
79-5
79-
75-5
74-5
7I-5
21
71*
74.
76.
77.2
80.
So.
80.
80.
79-5
77-
75-
72.
20^
72.
75-
77-
77.8
80. c
80.9
80.5
80.5
80.
78.
75-5
72.5
72.5
76.
77- 5
78- 3
81.
81.5
81.5
81.5
81.
79-
76.
73-
180
73-
76.5
78.
78.9
81.5
82.
82.
82.
81.5
80.
77-
74*
73-5
77-
78.5
79-4
82.
82.5
82.5
82.5
82.
x.
78.
75-
160
74-
77-5
79-
79-9
82.5
«3-
83-
83-
82.5
81.5
78.5
75*5
*5l
74-5
78.
79-5
80.4
83-
83-5
83-5
83-5
83.
82.
79-
76.
I4°
75-
78.5
80.
80.8
83-
83.8
83.8
83.8
83.
82.5
79.^
76.5
J3
76.
79-
80.8
81.3
83-5
4-
84.
84.
83-5
3.
80.
77-
12"
7<M
79-5
81.
81.7
84.
84.3
84’3
S4-3
84.
83-5
80. c
77-5
77-
79.8
81.5
82.
84.
84.6
4.6
84.6
84-3
83.8
80.8
78.
iq'-
77-5
80.
81.8
82.3
84’3
84.8
84.8
84.8
84.6
84.
81.
78.5
Chap. II
Tempera
ture of
the Air.
16 It appears from the above table that January is the
coldest month in every latitude j that July is the warm¬
est month in all latitudes above 48° •, that in lower
latitudes August is generally the warmest month j
that the diffex*ence between the hottest and coldest
months increases accoi’ding to the distance of the place
fx*om the equator. All habitable latitudes are found
to enjoy a medium heat of 6o° for at least 2 months,
which is a very favourable circumstance, as probably no
corn could be produced under a lower medium tempera¬
ture. The temperatures within io° of the poles differ
very little, nor do they difi'er much within io° of the
equator. Hence it was unnecessary to note these lati¬
tudes in the table. The temperatures of different years
vary but little near the equator, but this difference in¬
creases more and more as the latitudes approach the
jy poles.
Tempera- It is well known that the temperature of the at-
ture de- mosphere gradually diminishes according to the height
creases as ^ tjie p]ace above the level of the sea. It was found
in the air. 8y Dr Hutton of Edinburgh, that a thermometer kept
on the top of Arthux*,s seat, a height of about 800 feet,
usually stood 30 lower than one kept at the foot of this
hill and Bouguer observed that on the top of Pinchin-
cha, a height of about 15564 feet, a thermometer stood
540 lower than it did at the level of the sea in the same
latitude.
We ai’e indebted to Dr Kirwan for a very ingenious
method of determining the rate of the diminution in the
temperature in particular cases, having the temperature
of the surface of the earth given. The temperature of
the atmosphere constantly diminishing as we rise above
the level of the sea, we must at a certain height arrive
at a point where a perpetual congelation takes place.
This point must vary in height according to the la¬
titude, being highest at the equator, and coming gra¬
dually nearer the earth as we approach the poles ; it
must vary also with the season, being highest in summer, -
and lowest in winter. The cold on the top of Pin- Term of
chincha w'as found by M. Bouguer to extend from 70 perpetual
to 9 below the freezing point every morning justconSela*
before sunrise; hence he concluded that between thetion-
tropics the medium height of the term of congelation
(wher e it freezes at some part of the day all the year
round) should be fixed at 15577 ^eet above the level
of the sea ; but in latitude 28°, and during the summer,
at I344° feet’ If we take the difference between the
temperature at the equator, and the freezing point, this
difference will bear the same pi-oportion to the term of
congelation at the equator, that the difference between
the medium temperature at any other latitude and the
freezing point bears to the term of congelation at that
latitude. Suppose the medium heat at the equator to be
84°, the difference between which and 320 is 5 2° 5 and
suppose the medium heat of latitude 28° to be 72^°,
the difference between which and 3 2° is 40-xV0. Then
by the following proportion, 520 : 15577=40^: 12,72°
gives us the term of congelation at 28°. In this way
Dr Kirwan proceeded in calculating the followin'!-
table. 0
Lat.
tional to the mean altitude of the sun, or rather to the sine of that altitude. If, therefore, we have the mean
heat of April, and the sine of the sun’s altitude given, the mean heat of May may be found by the following pro¬
portion : 6 y
As the sine of the sun’s mean altitude in April : the mean heat of April = the sine of the sun’s mean altitude
in May : mean heat ol May.
In the same manner the mean heat of June, July, and August may be found j but for the temperature of the
succeeding months we must take into consideration another circumstance, since the above rule would make the
temperature of these months too low, as it does not take in the heat derived from the earth, which is nearly equal
to the mean annual temperature. The real mean heats of these months must be considered as an arithmetical
mean between the astronomical and terrestrial heats. Thus, for latitude 510, the astronomical heat of September
being 44.6°, and the mean annual heat 52.40, the real heat of September ought to be 44,62,4 — 48.5. Dr
Kirwan, however, after going through a tedious calculation, found the results to correspond so little with actual
observation, that he drew up the table partly from calculating from principles, and partly from an examination of
several sea journals. 3
3hap. II.
rempera-
ture of
the Air.
METEOR
Lat.
O0
5
10
15
20
*5
3°
35
40
Mean height
of the term of
congelation,
in feet.
I5577
I5457
15067
14498
I37I9
13030
ri592
10664
9016
Lat.
45
50
55
60
65
70
75
80
Mean height
of the tenn of
congelation,
in feet.
7658
6260
4912
3684
25t6
J557
748
120
NT. Lat.
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
r5
16
J7
Feet.
IF
28000
27784
27644
27504
27364
27224
27084
26880
26676
26472
26268
26061
25781
25501
18 125221
19 124941
20 124661
24404
24147
2389°
23633
23423
21
22
23
24
25
Lat.
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
Feet. I NT. Lat
22906
22389
21872
21355
20838
20492
20146
19800
x9454
^169
r^577
i7985
17393
16801
16207
15712
15217
14722
14227
13730
13235
12740
48
49
5°
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
53
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
Feet.
1224 C
11750
H 253
[OI24
8965
7806
6647
56I7
5533
5439j
5345
5251
5148
5068
4989
4910
4831
4752
4684
4616
4548
4480
N. Lat
Feet
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
9°
4413
4354
4295
4236
4177
4119
4067
4015
3963
39 n
3861
3815
3769
3723
3677
3631
3592
3553
3514
3475
3432
(f)
ture of
the Air.
This last height of 120 feet M. Bouger called the
lower term of congelation. He also distinguished an¬
other term of congelation above which no visible va¬
pour rises, and this he called the upper term of congela¬
tion. This line is considered by Kirwan as much less
variable during the summer months than the lower line,
and it has therefore been adopted by him to determine
the rate of diminution in the temperature as we
ascend into the atmosphere. He has calculated its
height for every degree of north latitude in the follow¬
ing table.
Vol. XIII. Part II.
f
O L O G Y. 713
From the modes of estimating the diminution of tem- Tempera-
perature now given, which agree extremely w'ell with
observation, we find that the temperature diminishes in
arithmetical progression, and hence we infer that the ^
temperature of the air at a distance from the earth Tempera-
is owing to the conducting power of the air, and not ture of the
to the ascent of hot air from the surface of the a1‘r above
earth. theea?h
It is however found that in winter the upper strata the con-
of the air are often warmer than the lower j and this ducting
superior heat, almost constantly observed in winter, is power of
attributed by Dr Kirwan to a current of warm air from t*ie Eur‘
the equator, rolling towards the north pole during our
winter *. ’ * IrisA
We have now given the general method of finding rT'aris.:.
the medium annual temperature all over the globe j butp
there are several exceptions to our general inferences
which must be particularly mentioned. 20
That part of the Pacific ocean which lies between Tempera-
north latitude 5 2° and 6o° is no broader at its northern ture of the.
extremity than 42 miles, and at its southern extremity *>a"
its breadth scarcely exceeds 1300 miles: it is reason-C1 K'°CCn'’
able to suppose, therefore, that its temperature will be
considerably influenced by the surrounding land, which
consists of ranges of mountains, covered a great part of
the year with snow; and there are besides a great many
high, and consequently cold, islands scattered through it.
For these reasons Dr Kirwan concludes, that its tempe¬
rature is at least 4* or 50 below the standard. But we
are not yet furnished with a sufficient number of obser¬
vations to determine this with accuracy. ? ]
It is the general opinion, that the southern bemi- of the
sphere beyond the 40° of latitude is considerably colder southern
than the corresponding parts of the northern hemisphere, hemisphere.
See America.
Small seas surrounded with land, at least in temperate of small
and cold climates, are generally warmer in summer and seas,
colder in tvinter than the standard ocean, because
they are much influenced by the temperature of the
land. The gulf of Bothnia, for instance, is for the
most part frozen in winter $ but in summer it is some¬
times heated to 70°, a degree of heat never to be found
in the opposite part of the Atlantic. The German sea.
is above 30 colder in winter, and 50 warmer in summer,
than the Atlantic. The Mediterranean sea is, for the
greater part of its extent, warmer both in summer and
winter than the Atlantic, which therefore flows into it.
The Black sea is colder than the Mediterranean, and
flows into it.
The eastern parts of North America are much colder
than the opposite coast of Europe, and fall short of the
4 X standard
(f) Dr Kirwan has given us the following rule for ascertaining the temperature at any required height, sup¬
posing we knowr the temperature of the surface of the earth.
For the temperature observed at the surface of the earth, put m ; for the given height A, and t for the height
of the tipper term of congelation at the given latitude 5 then —= the diminution of temperature for
1°°
every 100 feet of elevation ; or it is the common diflerence of the terms of the progression required. Let this
common difference thus found be denoted by c; then cX —- gives us the whole diminution of tempei*ature
from the surface of the earth to the given height. Let this diminution be denoted by <7, then m—d is obviously
the
7'4
Tempera¬
ture of
the Air.
.
Of islands.
24
Cotte’s ax¬
ioms re¬
specting
tempera¬
ture.
M E T E O It O L O G Y.
standard by about io° or I 2°, as appears from Ame¬
rican meteorological tables. The causes of this re¬
markable difference are many. The highest part of
North America lies between 40° and 50° of north lati¬
tude, and ioo° and no0 of longitude west from Lon¬
don, for there the greatest rivers originate. The very
height, therefore, makes this spot colder than it would
otherwise be. It is covered with immense forests, and
abounds with large swamps and morasses, which render
it incapable of receiving any great degree of heat; so
that the rigour of winter is much less tempered by the
heat of the earth than in the old continent. To the
east lie a number of very large lakes, and farther north,
Hudson’s bay 5 about 50 miles on the south of which
there is a range of mountains which prevent its receiv¬
ing any heat from that quarter. The bay is bounded
on the east by the mountainous country of Labrador and
by a number of islands. Hence the coldness of the
north-west winds and the lowness of the temperature.
But as the cultivated parts of North America are now
much warmer than formerly, there is reason to expect
that the climate will become still milder when the coun¬
try is better cleared of woods, though perhaps it will
never equal the temperature of the old continent.
Islands are warmer than continents in the same de¬
gree of latitude ; and countries lying to the windward
of extensive mountains or forests are warmer than those
lying to the leeward. Stones or sand have a less capa¬
city for heat than earth has, which is always somewhat
moist; they heat or cool, therefore, more rapidly and
to a greater degree. Hence the violent heat of Arabia
and Africa, and the intense cold of Terra del Fuego.
Living vegetables alter their temperature very slowly,
but their evaporation is great; and if they be tall and
close, as in forests, they exclude the sun’s rays from
the earth, and shelter the winter snow from the wind
and the sun. Woody countries, therefore, are much
colder than those which are cultivated.
We shall conclude this chapter with a series of me¬
teorological axioms respecting the temperature of the
air, by M. Cotte.
1. The extreme degrees of heat are almost every
where the same 5 this, however, is not the case in re¬
gard to the extreme degrees of cold.
2. The thermometer rises to its extreme height
oftener in the temperate zones than in the torrid zone.
3. It changes very little between the tropics j its
variations, like those of the barometer, are greater
the more one proceeds from the equator towards the
poles.
4. It rises higher in the plains than on mountains.
5. It does not fall so much in the neighbourhood of
the sea as in inland parts.
6. The wind has no influence on its motions.
Chap. HI,
7. Moisture has a peculiar influence on it, if follow- Evapora.
ed by a wind which disperses it. tion and
8. The greatest heat, and the greatest cold, take , ^a‘u-
place about six weeks after the northern or southern
solstice.
9. 'The thermometer changes more in summer than
in winter.
10. The coldest period of the day is before sun¬
rise.
11. The greatest heat in the sun and the shade sel¬
dom takes place on the same day.
12. The heat decreases with far more rapidity from
September and October, than it increased from J uly to
September.
13. It is not true, that a very cold winter is the
prognostic of a very hot summer.
Chap. III. Of the Changes ‘which take place in the
Air tuith respect to Evaporation and Rain.
25
There seems no reason to doubt that water exists Qualities 0
in the atmosphere in an intermediate state between that 'vaPour‘
of a fluid and that of absolute steam. This is the state
of vapour, of the qualities of which it is proper that we
should here take a general view.
We are indebted to the experiments of Saussure and
de Luc for much of our knowledge of the qualities of
vapour. It is an elastic invisible fluid like common
air, but lighter; being to common air, according to
Saussure, as 10 to 14, or, according to Kirwan, as 10 to
12 j it cannot pass beyond a certain maximum of den¬
sity, otherwise the particles of water which compose it
unite together, and form small, hollow, visible vesicles,
called vesicular vapour ; which is of the same specific
gravity with atmospherical air. It is of this vapour
that clouds and fogs are composed. This maximum
increases with the temperature j and at the heat of boil¬
ing water is so great, that steam can resist the whole
pressure of the air, and exist in the atmosphere in any
quantity.
After what has been stated under CHEMISTRY with
respect to the nature and properties of vapour, ive have
nothing here to add on that subject, except to give the
result of observations that have been made on the state
of vapour in the atmosphere. 26
It is found that the evaporation of water into the airEvapora-
is confined entirely to the surface, and hence it is always
proportional to the surface exposed to the action of the surface,
air. Accordingly, observation shows that in maritime
countries, and in marshy situations in the neighbour¬
hood of lakes, rivers, &c. the evaporation is much
greater than in inland countries and dry situations. 27
It is found that evaporation is greatest in hot Aveather \ Proportior
whence it must depend, in some degree, on the tempera-^11° ^
ture ture of th?
   .    air.
the temperature required. An example Avill make this rule sufficiently obvious. In latitude 56° the heat beloAV
being 540 } required the temperature of the air at the height of 803 feet P
Here ?«=r54, ^=5533, = 0404=10, and cX * 8*03 — 3-24 = d, and m —
100 1
54—3.24=50.75. Hence we see that the temperature of the air at the height of 803 feet above the surface
is 50°.75.
Ihap. III.
■Ivapora- ture of the air. This was ascertained by Mr Dalton
ion and from actual experiments, the result of which was, that
^•ain~ , the quantity evaporated per minute from a given surface
of water at a given temperature, is to the quantity
evaporated from the surface at 212°, as the force of
vapour at the given temperature is to the force of va¬
pour at 2120* By means of the table expressing the
force of vapour at various temperatures given under
Chemistry, p. 468, we may discover by the above
rule the quantity of water at a given temperature lost
by evaporation.
There are several circumstances that affect the quan-
7I5
tity of vapour rising from water, even at the same tern- Evapora-
perature. Thus, we find that evaporation is least in tion and
calm weather, increases when there is wind, and is Rain-
greater in proportion as the wind is stronger. This v
evidently arises from the agitation of the water, Uy
which a new surface is perpetually exposed to the action
of the air.
We shall here insert a table by Mr Dalton, express¬
ing the quantity of vapour raised in various atmospheric
temperatures, from a circular surface six inches in dia¬
meter.
METEOROLOGY,
Fempe-
rature
212
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
3°
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
C2
Force of
vapour in
inches.
30
.129
•I34
•I39
•I44
.150
.156
.162
.168
.174
.180
.186
•I93
.200
.207
.214
.221
.229
•237
•245
•254
.262
•273
.283
.294
•3°5
.316
•327
•339
•351
•363
•375
.388
.401
Evaporating force in grains.
120 154 189
•52
•54
•56
.58
.60
.62
•65
.67
.70
•72
•74
•77
.80
•83
.86
.89
.92
•95
.98
1.02
1.05
1.09
1.18
1.22
1.26
1.36
1.40
M5
1.50
I-55
1.60
.67
.69
•71
•73
•77
•79
.82
.86
.90
•93
•95
•99
1.03
1.07
1.11
1.14
1.18
1.22
1.26
I*3I
I-35
1.40
I-45
I-5I
1-57
1.62
1.68
I-75
1.80
1.86
1.92
I-99
2.06
.82
.85
.88
•91
•94
•97
1.02
1.05
1.10
1.17
1.21
1.26
1.30
I-35
I-39
I*45
1.49
I*54
1.60
1.65
1.71
1.78
1.85
1.92
I-99
2.06
2.13
2.20
2.28
2.36
2.44
2.51
Tempe
rature.
212°
53“
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
6?
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
Force of
vapour in
inches.
3°
4J5
429
443
458
474
490
5°7
524
542
560
578
597
616
635
655
676
698
721
745
770
796
823
851
880
910
940
97*
00
04
°7
10
J4
!.I7
Evaporating force in grain.
120
1.66
I*7I
1.77
1.83
1.90
1.96
2.03
2.10
2.17
2.24
2.31
2-39
2.46
2- 54
2.62
2.70
2.79
2.88
2.98
3.08
3.18
3- 29
3-40
3-52
3-65
3- 76
3.88
4.00
4.16
4.28
4.40
4- 56
4.68
*54
2.13
2.20
2.28
2-35
2- 43
2.52
2.61
2.70
2.79
2.88
2.97
3- °7
3.16
3-27
3-37
3-47
3-59
3-7°
3-83
3- 96
4.09
4- 23
4-37
4- 52
4.68
483
4.99
5- I4
5-35
5-50
5.66
5.86
6.07
189
2.61
2.69
2.78
2.88
2.98
3.08
3*I9
3-30
3-41
3-52
3-63
3-76
3-87
3- 99
4.12
4.24
4- 38
4- 53
4.68
4.84
5.00
5- i7
5-34
5-53
5-72
5- 91
6.10
6.29
6- 54
6.73
6.91
7.17
746
The first column of the above table expresses the
temperature } the second, the corresponding force of
vapour j the other three columns give the number of
grains of water that would be evaporated from a sur¬
face of six inches in diameter in the respective tempe¬
ratures, on the supposition of there being previously no
aqueous vapour in the atmosphere. These columns
present the extremes and the mean of evaporation likely
to be noticed, or nearly such 5 for the first is calculated
upon the supposition of 35 grains loss per minute from
the vessel of three inches and a quarter in diameter 5
the second 45, and the third 55 grains per minute.
As yet we have stated only the degree of evapora¬
tion that would take place under various circumstan¬
ces, provided that the atmosphere were, at the time,
entirely free from moisture j but as this can scarcely
happen, it becomes necessary to ascertain the rate of
evaporation when qualified by the vapour already exist¬
ing in the atmosphere. This is readily done by first
finding the force of the vapour already in the atmo¬
sphere, as above directed, and subtracting it from the
force of vapour at the given temperature. The re¬
mainder is the actual force of evaporation, from which,
by the last table, we find the required rate of evapora-
4X2 , lion.
7 iG
METEOROLOG Y.
Evapora- tion. Suppose, for instance, it be required to know the
lion and rate of evaporation at the temperature of 590. From the
^ ^ain t last table we see that the force of vapour at 590 is
y about 0.5 or -gV its force at 212°. Now, suppose that
by trials we find the force of the vapour which already
exists in the atmosphere to be 0.25 or 74^=^- of zI-b-.
Subtracting the latter from the former, we have for a
remainder o.25=the force of evaporation required,
which is therefore just the half of what it would be if
the atmosphere were entirely free from vapour.
The force of vapour existing in the atmosphere is
scarcely ever equal to the force of vapour of the tempe¬
rature of the atmosphere. Hence evaporation may,
with a few exceptions, be considered as going on with¬
out intermission. Attempts have been made to ascer¬
tain the quantity of evaporation that takes place in the
course of a year 5 but the investigation of this problem
is so.difficult, that these attempts have succeeded only
in obtaining approximations towards the truth. Mr
Dobson of Liverpool, from a course of experiments made
in 1772, 1773, 1774, and 1775, concludes that the
mean annual evaporation from the surface of water,
amounted to 36.78 inches. The proportions for each
month are as follows.
30
Result,
January
February
March
April
May
June
Inches.
I.50
I.77
2.64
3- 30
4- 34
4.41
July
August
September
October
November
December
Inches.
511
5.01
S.tS
2.51
1.49
The experiments of Mr Dalton shew that the evapo¬
ration from the surface of water in a very dry and hot
summer day, was rather more than two tenths of an inch.
Several experiments have been made on the quantity
of evaporation from land, especially by Mr Williams in
America, and Dr Watson, Mr Dalton and Mr Hoyle
in Britain.
Mr Williams’s experiments appear to shew that the
evaporation from the surface of such land as is covered
with trees and other vegetables is about one-third
greater than the evaporation from the surface of wa¬
ter, though much reliance is not laid on these experi¬
ments.
Chap. Ill,
From an experiment made by Dr Watson during Evapora-
summer, when the earth had been parched by a month’s tion and
drought, it appeared that 1600 gallons of water were
evaporated from a single acre in 12 hours*. Dr Wat-
son’s experiment, however, was of a nature that did notEvapora-
admit of great precision. tion from
The experiments made by Mr Dalton and Mr HoyleIand;
in the years 1796, 1797, and 1798, are the most exact
that have been made on this subject, and we shall there- Essays vol
fore consider them more at large. They were madeiii. 54.’
with the following apparatus. Having procured a cy-
lindrical vessel made of tin plate, three feet deep and FjXPpk
ten inches in diameter, they inserted into it two pipes and
directed downwards, so that water might pass through Hoyle,
them into two bottles. One pipe was fixed near the
bottom of the vessel, and the other about an inch from
the top. The vessel was filled up for a few inches with
gravel and sand, and all the rest with good fresh soil.
It was then put into a hole in the ground, and the
space around filled up with earth except on one side, for
the convenience of putting bottles to the two pipes}
then some water was poured on the earth to sadden it,
and all that would drain off wras suffered to escape.
Hence the earth may be considered as saturated with
moisture. The soil was kept for some weeks above the
level of the upper pipe, hut after that it was constantly
allowed to be a little below it, thus preventing any wa¬
ter from running off through that pipe. The top of
the soil for the first year was bare } but for the two last
years it was covered with grass like other turf. The
apparatus being thus prepared, a correct register was
kept of the quantity of rain water which ran off from
the surface of the earth by the upper pipe, as long as
that was below the earth, and also of the quantity of
water which passed through the three feet of earth, and
ran off by the lower pipe ; and a rain gauge of an equal
diameter with the cylinder was kept near it, for the
purpose of measuring the quantity of rain which fell in
any corresponding time. Then, by subtracting the
quantity of water which passed through the pipes from
that in the rain gauge, the remainder was considered as
equal to the quantity evaporated from the surface of the
earth in the cylinder. The mean annual result of these
experiments is shewn in the following table.
Water through the two pipes.
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
Rain
Evap.
1796.
Inch.
1.897-
I-778-
•431-
.220-
2.027-
.171-
•JiS-
.200
6.877-
30.629-
23-725-
1797-
Inch.
.680—
.918—
.070—
•295—
2- 443 +
.726
.025
.976
.680
1.044
3- 077
io-934-
38-79i~
27.8^7-
1798*
Inch.
J-774 +
1.122
•335
.180
.010
•504
1-594
1.8784.
7-379'
3i-259
23.862
Mean.
Inch.
I-45° +
1.273
.279
.232
M93 +
•299
•059
.168
•325
.227
.879
i-7i8 +
8.402
Mean
Rain.
Inch.
2.458
1.801
.902
1- 7I7
4.177
2.483
4-I54
3-554
3-279
2.899
2- 934
3.202
33-56o
Mean
Evap.
Inch.
1.008
.528
.623
1- 485
2.684
2.184
4-095
3-386
2- 954
2.672
2.055
1.484
25-158
It
III. M E T E O R O
It appears from these experiments, that at Man¬
chester the mean annual evaporation of water is above
25 inches } and if wre add to this with Mr Dalton 5
inches for the dew which falls, the whole quantity eva¬
porated in a year will be 30 inches. On the whole,
we may perhaps estimate the mean annual evaporation
from the whole surface of the globe at 35 inches from
every square inch of surface, making the whole water
annually evaporated over the whole globe equal to
94.4 ?0 cubic miles.
Were this prodigious mass of water all to subsist in
the atmosphere at once, it would increase its mass by
about TV, and raise the barometer nearly 3 inches.
But this never happens ; no day passes without rain in
some part of the earth ■, so that part of the evaporated
water is continually precipitated again. Indeed it would
be impossible for the whole of the evaporated water to
subsist in the atmosphere at once, at least in the state
of vapour.
The higher regions of the atmosphere contain less
vapour than the strata near the surface of the earth.
This was observed both by M. de Saussure and M. de
Luc.
At some height above the tops of mountains the at¬
mosphere is probably still drier, for it was observed by
Saussure, that on the tops of mountains the moisture of
the air -was rather less during the night than the day.
And there can be little doubt that every stratum of air
descends a little lower during the night than it was^
during the day, owing to the cooling and condensing ol
the stratum nearest the earth. ^ apours, however, must
ascend very high, for we see clouds forming far above
the tops of the highest mountains.
Rain never begins to fall while the air is transparent 5
the invisible vapours first pass their maximum, and are
changed into vesicular vapours } clouds are formed,
and these clouds gradually dissolve in rain. Clouds,
however, are not formed in all parts of the horizon at
once } the formation begins in one particular spot,
while the rest of the air remains clear as before ; this
cloud rapidly increases till it overspreads the whole
horizon, and then the rain begins.
It is remarkable, that though the greatest quantity
of vapour exists in the lower strata ot the atmosphere,
clouds never begin to form there, but always at some con¬
siderable height. It is remarkable, too, that the part of
the atmosphere at which they form has not arrived at
the point of extreme moisture, nor near that point, even
a moment before their formation. They are not formed
then because a greater quantity of vapour had got into
the atmosphere than could remain there without passing
its maximum. It is still more remarkable, that when
clouds are formed, the temperature of the spot in which
they are formed is not always lowered, though tins
may sometimes be the case. On the contrary, the heat
of the clouds themselves is sometimes greater than that
De I/uc 0£ £jie surr0unding air*. Nor is the formation of clouds
vol. ii owing *o the capacity of the air for combining with
00. moisture being lessened by cold j so far from that, we
often see clouds which had remained in the atmosphere
34 during the heat of the day, disappear in the night, after
the forma- tjie Qf tlie air was diminished.
Wd” and The formation of clouds and rain cannot be account-
ain as yet ed for by a single principle with which we are acquaint-
mcxpluin- ed. It is neither owing to the saturation of the at-
:d.
tion and
Rain.
33
louds al¬
ways form
t some
eight.
LOGY. 7*7
mosphere, nor the diminution of the heat j nor the Evapora-'
mixture of airs of different temperatures, as Dr Hut¬
ton supposes : for clouds are often formed without any ^
wind at all either above or below them j and even it
this mixture constantly took place, the precipitation,
instead of accounting for rain, -would be almost imper¬
ceptible.
It is a very remarkable fact, that evaporation often
goes on for a month together in hot weather without
any rain. This sometimes happens in this country ; it
happens every year in the torrid zone. Thus at Cal¬
cutta, during January 1785, it never rained at all j
the mean of the thermometer for the whole month was
66i° } there was no high wind, and indeed during
great part of the month little wind at all.
The quantity of water evaporated during such a
drought must be very great; yet the moisture of the
air, instead of being increased, is constantly diminish¬
ing, and at last disappears almost entirely. For the
dew, which is at first copious, diminishes every night $
and if Dr Watson’s experiment formerly mentioned
be attended to, it will not be objected that the quan¬
tity of evaporation is also very much diminished. Of
the very dry state to which the atmosphere is reduced
during long droughts, the violent thunder-storms with
which they often conclude is a very decisive proof.
Now what becomes of all this moisture ? It is not ac¬
cumulated in the atmosphere above the country from
which it was evaporated, otherwise the whole atmo¬
sphere would in a much less period than a month be
perfectly saturated with moisture. If it be carried up
daily through the difterent strata ot the atmosphere,
and wafted to other regions by superior currents ot air,
how is it possible to account for the different electrical
state of the clouds situated between different sti'ata,
which often produces the most violent thunder-storms ?
They could not have remained in the lower strata of
the atmosphere, and been daily carried oft by winds to
other countries } for there are often no winds at all
during several days to perform this office j nor in that
case would the dews diminish, nor could their presence
fail to be indicated by the hygrometer.
It is impossible for us to account for this remarkable
fact upon any principle with which we are acquainted.
The water can neither remain in the atmosphere, nor
pass through it in the state of vapour. It must there¬
fore assume some other form j but what that form is, or
how it assumes it, we know not. There are, therefore,
two steps of the process which takes place between eva¬
poration and rain, with which we are entirely unac¬
quainted j first, the state of the vapour after it enters
into the atmosphere, and second, the cause by which it
is made to lay aside the new form which it assumed, re¬
turn to its state of vapour, and descend in form of rain.
Several theories have been contrived to account for
this phenomenon, but they are all untenable on the pre¬
sent known laws of chemical action.
The mean annual quantity of rain is greatest at the
equator, and decreases gradually as we ap proach the poles.
Thus at Granada, Antilles, 12° N. Lat. it is 126 inches.
Cape Frangois, St Domingo 190
Calcutta - - 22
Rome - - 41
England - ■ 33
Petersburg!! - • 59
46'
23
54
o
16
120
81
39
32
16
718
Evapora- Oa the contrary, the number of rainy days is small-
tion and est at the equator, and increases in proportion to the
., . distance from it. From N. Lat. 12° to 430 the mean
number of rainy days is 78 j from 430 to 46° the mean
number is 103 j from 46° to 50° it is 134 5 from 51°
35 to 6o°, 161 days.
often^more numher of rainy days is often greater in winter
numerous in ^lan *n summer > hut the quantity of rain is greater in
winter. summer than in winter. At Petersburgh, the number
of rainy or snowy days during winter is 84, and the
quantity which falls is only about 5 inches 5 during
summer the number of rainy days is nearly the same,
but the quantity which falls is about 11 inches.
More rain falls in mountainous countries than in
plains. Among the Andes it is said to rain almost
perpetually, while in Egypt it scarcely ever rains at all.
If a rain-gauge be placed on the ground, and another
at some height perpendicularly above it, more rain will
be collected into the lower than into the higher 5 a
proof that the quantity of rain increases as it descends,
owing perhaps to the drops attracting vapour during
their passage through the lower strata of the atmosphere
where the greatest quantity resides. This, however,
is not always the case, as Mr Copland of Dumfries
discovered in the course of his experiments. He ob¬
served also, that when the quantity of rain collected in
the lower gauge was greatest, the rain commonly con¬
tinued for some time ; and that the greatest quantity
was collected in the higher gauge only either at the end
of great rains, or during rains which did not last long.
These observations are important, and may, if followed
out, give us new knowledge of the causes of rain.
J hey seem to shew, that dui’ing rain the atmosphere
is somehow or other brought into a state which induces
it to part with its moisture j and that the rain continues
as long as this state continues. Were a sufficient
number of observations made on this subject in differ¬
ent places, and were the atmosphere carefully ana¬
lysed during dry weather, during rain, and immediate¬
ly after rain, we might soon perhaps discover the true
theory of rain.
More rain Rain falls in all seasons of the year, at all times of
day thanhi the ^ and durInS the night as well as the day j
the night. t^oug^b according to M. Toaldo, a greater quantity
falls during the day than the night. The cause of rain,
then, whatever it may be, must be something which
operates at all times and seasons. Rain falls also du¬
ring the continuance of every wind, but oftenest when
v the wind blows from the south. Falls of rain often
happen likewise during perfect calms.
Mean an- It appears from a paper published by M. Cotte in
nual quan- the Journal de Physique for October 1791, containing
tity Of rain the mean quantity of rain falling at 147 places, situa-
m Iea ted between N. Lat. n° and 6o°, deduced from tables
kept at these places, that the mean annual quantity of
rain failing in all these places in 34.7 inches. Let us
suppose then (which cannot be very far from the truth),
that the mean annual quantity of rain for the whole is
34 inches. The superficies of the globe consists of
170,981,012 square miles, or 686,401,498,471,475,200
square inches. The quantity of rain, therefore, falling
annually will amount to 23,337,650,812,030,156,800
cubic inches, or somewhat more than 91,751 cubic miles
of water. This is 16,191 cubic miles of water less
than the quantity of water evaporated. It seems pro-
4
METEOBOLOG Y. Chap, in,
bable therefore, if the imperfection of our data warrant 3Cvapora
any conclusion, that some of the vapour is actually de- tionand
composed in the atmosphere, and converted into oxygen Rain,
and hydrogen gas. ' v*—
The dry land amounts to 52,745,253 square miles:
the quantity of rain falling on it annually therefore
will amount to 30,960 cubic miles. The quantity of
water running annually into the sea is 13,140 cubic
miles •, a quantity of water equal to which must be sup¬
plied by evaporation from the sea, otherwise the land
would soon be completely drained of its moisture.
The quantity of rain falling annually in Great Bri¬
tain may be seen from the following table :
in Great
Jirftaia
Years of
observation
3
5
8
8
45
5
8
18
7
5
H
10
5
5
20
8
Places.
Dover
Ware, Hertfordshire
London
Kimbolton
Lyndon
Chatsworth, Derbyshire
Manchester
Liverpool
Lancaster
Kendal
Dumfries
Branxholm, 44 miles S. W. of
Berwick
Langholm
Dalkeith
Glasgow
Hawkhill - - _
Mean
Rain in
Inches.
37-52
23.6
r7-5
23-9
22.21
27.865
43-i
34-41
40-3
61.223
36.127
31.26
36-73
25.124
31-
28.966
3M32
Mr Dalton has estimated the quantity of rain that
falls in England at 21 inches j but as no account is ta¬
ken of what falls in Wales and Scotland, this estimate
probably falls much short ot the real annual quantity.
In this country it generally rains less in March than in
November, in the proportion at a medium of 7 to 12.
It generally rains less in April than October, in the
proportion of 1 to 2 nearly at a medium. It generally
rams less in May than September j the chances that
it does so are at least as 4 to 3 : but when it rains plen¬
tifully in May, it generally rains but little in Septem¬
ber ; and when it rains one inch or less in Mav, it
rains plentifully in September.
The degree of moisture that is present in the atmo¬
sphere at any given time, is measured by the hygrome¬
ter. Under the article Hygrometer we have amply
described several of the most important instruments
of that kind; but there is one hygrometer, viz. that
of Mr Leslie, which remains to be described in this
place. I igures of the instrument are given in Plate
CCLXXVI. fig. 15^
I he principal pait of the instrument is composed of Leslie’s liy-
tivo glass tubes terminated by hollow halls, one trans-groins ter.
paient and the other opaque. rIhe tubes are selected, as
regulai as. possible, from 4 to 8 inches long, and about
•g-g- of an inch thick, or as slender as those employed
, < ■ for
ha]
).
111.
M ETEOROLOGY.
vapora- for tljermometers, but with a much wider bore. This,
on and in oae tube, must be from ^ to the ^ of an inch in
diameter, and an exact calibre, at least not differing
by /o- between both its extremities. To the end of it
a small piece of black enamel is attached, and blown
into an opaque ball, from 4 to -/s' °f an inch diameter.
The corresponding tube may have its bore of the same,
or rather a greater width, but its uniformity is not at
all essential. Near the extremity it is swelled out into
a thin cylinder, almost xo °f ari incb wide, and from
tV to long i the inner cavity only being enlarged,
without altering the exterior regularity of the tube.
The short bit of glass where this cylinder terminates,
is now blown into a thin pellucid ball, as nearly of
the size of the former as the eye can judge. The ex¬
act equality of the balls would be unattainable, and
fortunately the theory of the instrument does not re¬
quire it. When a dark and a bright object are viewed
together, the latter, from an optical deception, appears
always larger than the reality ; and for this reason, says
Mr Leslie, I prefer making the clear ball a slight de¬
gree smaller than the black one. In the mean time
a coloured liquor is prepared by dissolving carmine in
concentrated sulphuric acid, in a phial with a ground
stopper, taking care to avoid heat, as by this the colour¬
ing-matter would be charred, and the beauty of the
liquor destroyed.
The tubes are now cut to nearly equal lengths, and
the end of each swelled out a little, to facilitate their
junction. Close to the black ball, the tube is bent by
the flame of a candle into a shoulder, such, that the
r oot of the ball shall come into a line with the inner
edge of the tube, This ball, being then warmed, the
end of the tube is dipt into the acid liquor, and as
much of it allowed to rise and flow into the cavity, as
may be guessed sufficient to fill both tubes, excepting
the cylinder. The twro tubes are then, by the help of a
blow-pipe, solidly joined together in one straight piece,
without having any knot or protuberance. About
half an inch from the joining, and nearer the cylinder,
it is gently bent round by the flame of a candle, till
the clear ball is brought to touch the tube ^ inch
directly below the black one. The instrument is now
to be graduated } and the scale chosen by Mr Leslie is
that which corresponds to the centigrade thermometer.
Mr Leslie thus describes the mode of graduating the
instrument.—The instrument is held in an oblique
position, that the coloured liquor may collect at the
bottom of the black ball, into which a few minute
portions of air must, from time to time, be forced
over, by heating the opposite ball with the hand.
In this way, the interposed liquid will gradually be
made to descend into the tube, and assume its pro¬
per place j and it should remain for a week or two
in an inclined position, to let every particle drain
out of the black ball. If any trace of fluid collects in
rings within the bore, they are easily dispelled with
a little dexterity and manipulation, which, though it
would be difficult to describe, is most readily learnt
and practised; The small cavity at the joining facili¬
tates the rectification, by affording the means of send¬
ing a globule of air in either direction. In fixing the
zero of the scale, Mr Leslie set the instrument in a re¬
mote corner of the room, or partly closed the window-
shutters. When completely adjusted, the top of the
coloured liquor, if held upright, should stand nearly
opposite to the middle of the cylindrical reservoir.
In this state of preparation, the instrument is ready
for being graduated. The clear ball and the conti¬
guous part of the parallel tube are therefore covered
with two or three folds of thin bibulous paper, moisten¬
ed with pure water, to make it act as a hygrometer 4
and there is attached to the same tube a temporary
scale, by means of a soft cement composed of bees-wax
and rosin. A flat round piece of wnod being provided
with four or five pillars that screw into it, the instru¬
ment is fixed to one of them in an erect position, and
on each side is disposed a fine corresponding thermome¬
ter, inverted, and at the same height, the one having
its bulb covered with wet bibulous paper. Then half
a yard of flannel is dried as much as possible without
singeing, before a good fire, and rolling it up like a
sleeve, it is lapped loosely round the lower part ot the
pillars, and the wdiolc is inclosed under a large bell-
glass. The flannel powerfully absorbs moisture from
the confined air, and creates an artificial dryness of 80
or 100 degrees. In the space of a quarter or half an
hour, the full effect is produced, and the quantities
being noted at two or three separate times, the mean
results are adopted. The descent, measured by the
temporary scale, being then augmented in the propor¬
tion of ten to the difference of the two thermometers,
wrill give the length that corresponds to 100°. After
the standard instrument is constructed, others are thence
graduated with the utmost ease j the first being planted
in the centre, and the rest, with their temporary scales,
stuck to the encircling pillars. For greater accuracy,
the observation should be made in a room without a
fire, or a screen ought to be interposed between the
fire and the apparatus.
The slips of ivory intended for the scales are divided
into equal parts, and should contain from too0 to 15c0.
The edges are filed down and chamfered, to fit easily
between the parallel tubes ; and they are secured in
their place by a strong solution of isinglass. The
lower ball and its annexed cylinder, are covered with
thin silk of the same colour as the upper ball, and a
few threads are likewise lapped about that part of the
tube which it touches. The instrument is lastly ce¬
mented into a piece of wood, either end of which ad¬
mits a cylindrical case that serves equally to protect or
to hold it. On other occasions, the hygrometer is in¬
serted into the socket of a round bottom-piece where it
stands vertical.
The above description refers particularly to fig. 14.
Fig. 13. differs from this, only in having the balls of an
equal height, and bended in opposite directions, which
Mr Leslie considers as more convenient for some purposes
to which the instrument is applied, to be mentioned
hereafter,but which renders the instrument less portable.
The action of this hygrometer depends on the follow¬
ing principle ; That the cold produced by ei'apoi'ation
will accurately denote the degree of dryness of the air,
or its distance from the point of saturation. To discover
the dryness or humidity of the air, therefore, we have
only to find the change of temperature induced in a
body of water insulated, or exposed on all sides to eva¬
poration. The steps which led Mr Leslie from these
simple
719
Evapora¬
tion and
Rain.
, 39
Theory of
the instru¬
ment.
720
Evapora¬
tion and
Rrain.
METEOR
simple principles to the Construction of the present in¬
genious instrument, are detailed by him in a paper
published in Nicholson’s Journal for January x8oo, to
which we must refer our readers for the particulars,
contenting ourselves with the following summary
view.
If two thermometers he filled with any expansible
fluid, and having the bulb of the one wet and the
other dry, they will, by their difference, denote the
state of the air in respect to humidity. Mr Leslie’s
object was to combine two such instruments, so that
they should indicate merely their difference of tempera¬
ture 5 and this object he has completely attained by the
present instrument. In ordinary cases, the intermediate
liquor would continue stationary } for the air in both
balls having the same temperature, and consequently
the same elasticity, the opposite pressures would precisely
counteract each other; but if, from the action of the
external air on the moistened surface, one ball became
colder, it is manifest the liquor would be pushed to¬
wards it by the superior elasticity of the air included
in the other ball, so as to mark, by the space of its ap¬
proach, the depression of temperature induced by eva¬
poration.
This instrument does not merely point out the dryness
of the air 5 it enables us to determine the absolute quan-
tihj of moisture which it is capable of imbibing; for
the conversion of water into steam is found to consume
5240 of the centigrade division j and evaporation, ana¬
logous in its effects, may be presumed to occasion the
same waste of heat. If, therefore, air had the same
capacity as water, for each degree of the hygrometer
it would deposit as much heat as it would abstract by
dissolving the Part weight of humidity.
But the capacity of air is to that of water as 11 to six,
and consequently it would require in that proportion a
greater evaporation to produce the same effect. We
may hence conclude, that, for each hygrometric degree,
the air would require V X xho or ttxt part by
weight of wafer to effect saturation.
Strictly speaking, the degrees marked by this hygro¬
meter do not measure the dryness of the air at its actual
temperature, but only its state of dryness when cooled
down to the standard of the wet ball. The law, how¬
ever, being known of the dissolving power of air as
affected by heat, it is easy, from the disposition of the air
with respect to humidity at one temperature to derive
that at any other. It will suffice to mention the result
of a number of careful experiments :—Supposing air at
the freezing point to be capable of holding 50 parts
of moisture j at io° centigrade, it will hold 100; at
2.0°, 200 j at 30°, 400 ; thus doubling at each increase
of io°. Hence a table may be constructed by which
these conversions will be easily made.
To omit nothing that tends to elucidate the theory
of the instrument, we must observe that the air in its
contact with the humid surface is not absolutely cooled
to the same temperature; the air and water really
meet each other at an intermediate point determined
by their compounded density and capacity. Con¬
sequently the indications of the hygrometer ought to
be augmented by the ^ part, or V + -rro-*
But this quantity is too small in any case to be re¬
garded. See Hygrometry, Supplement.
3
O L O G Y. Chap. IV
"Winds.
Chap. IV. Of the Changes produced in the Air by'—v—
Winds.
In considering the subject of winds, we shall first 4°
briefly detail their natural history, so far as it has not
been already anticipated, and shall then endeavour to
trace the laws by which they are regulated, or explain
the manner in which their varieties are produced. As
the direction of the tvinds is of the greatest consequence,
especially in a commercial view7, we shall first point out
the direction of the most prevalent winds in vaxhous
quarters of the world.
Between the tropics the winds are the most regular. Trade!
In those parts of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans which winds,
lie nearest the equator, there is a regular wind during
the whole year called the trade-wind. On the north
side of the equator it blows from the north-east, varying
frequently a point or two towards the north or east;
and on the south side of it, from the south-east, chan¬
ging sometimes in the same manner towards the south
or east. The space included between the second and
fifth degrees of north latitude is the internal limit of these
two winds. There the winds can neither be said to
blow from the north nor the south ; calms and violent
storms are frequent. This space varies a little in lati¬
tude as the sun approaches either of the tropics. In
the Atlantic ocean the trade-winds extend farther north
on the American than on the African coast; and as we
advance westward, they become gradually more easter¬
ly, and decrease in strength. Their force diminishes
likewise as -we approach their utmost boundaries. It
has been remarked also, that as the sun approaches the
tropic of cancer, the south-east winds become gradually
more southerly, and the north-east wind& more easterly :
exactly the contrary takes place when the sun is ap¬
proaching the tropic of capricorn.
The trade-wind blows constantly in the Indian ocean Monsoons,
from 10° south latitude to near 30° ; but to the north¬
ward of this the winds change every six months, and
blow directly opposite to their former course. These
regular winds are called monsoons, from the Malay
word moossm, which signifies a season. When they
shift their direction, variable winds and violent storms
succeed, which last for a month, and frequently longer ;
and during that time it is dangerous for vessels to con¬
tinue at sea.
The monsoons in the Indian ocean may be reduced
to two; one on the north and another on the south side
of the equator; which extend from Africa to the lon¬
gitude ot New Holland and the east coast of China,
and which suffer partial changes in particular places
from the situation and inflection of the neighbouring
countries.
Between 30 and io° of south latitude the south-east
trade-wind continues from April to October; but dur¬
ing the rest of the year the wind blows from the north¬
west. Between Sumatra and New Holland this
monsoon blows from the south during our summer
months, approaching gradually to the south-east as we
advance towards the coast of New Holland ; it changes
about the end of September, and continues in the op¬
posite direction till April. Between Africa and Mada¬
gascar its direction is influenced by the coast; for it
blows
Winds.
hroughout
he year.
M E T E O II
north-east from October to April,
rest of the year
from the south-
44
)f mou
dojis.
Chap. IV.
blows from the
and during the
43 WeSt-
Direction Over all the Indian ocean to the northward of the
)t' the f third degree of south latitude, the north-east trade-wind
ifrou-'houf ljlou:S ^roni (^cto,,ei‘ to April, and a south-west wind from
April to October. From Borneo, along the coast of
Malacca and as far as China, this monsoon in summer
blows nearly from the south, and in winter from the
north by east. Near the coast of Africa, between Mo¬
zambique and Cape Guardafeu, the winds are irregular
during the whole year, owing to the different monsoons
which surround that particular place.—Monsoons are
likewise regular in the Bed sea 5 between April and
October they blow from the north-west, and during the
other months from the south-east, keeping constantly
parallel to the coast of Arabia.
Monsoons are not altogether confined to the Indian
ocean •, on the coast of Brazil, between Cape St Au¬
gustine and the island of St Catharine, the wind blows
between September and April from the east or north¬
east, and between April and September from the south¬
west. The bay of Panama is the only place on the
west side of a great continent where the wind shifts
regularly at different seasons : there it is easterly
between September and March ; but between March
and September it blows chiefly from the south and
south-west.
Such in general is the direction of the winds in the
torrid zone all over the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian
oceans 5 but they are subject to particular exceptions,
which we shall now endeavour tc enumerate. On the
coast of Africa, from Cape Bayador to Cape Verde,
the winds are generally north-west 5 from thence to
the island of St Thomas near the equator they blow al¬
most perpendicular to the shore, bending gradually as
we advance southwards, first to the west and then to
the south-west. On the coast of New Spain likewise,
from California to the bay of Panama, the winds blow
almost constantly from the west or south-west, except
during May, June, and July, when land-wind? prevail,
called by the Spaniards Popogayos. On the coast of
Chili and Peru, from 20° to 30° south latitude, to the
equator, and on the parallel coast of Africa, the wind
blows during the whole year from the south, varying
according to the direction of the land towards which
it inclines, and extending much farther out to sea on
the American than the African coast. The trade-
winds are also interrupted sometimes by westerly
winds in the bay of • Campeacby and the bay of Hon¬
duras.
As to the countries between the tropics, we are
too little acquainted with them to be able to give a
satisfactory history of their winds.
In ail maritime countries between the tropics, of any
extent, the wind blows during a certain number of
hours every day from the sea, and during a certain
number towards the sea from the land •, these winds are
called the sea and land breezes. The sea breeze ge¬
nerally sets in about xo in the forenoon, and blows till
six in the evening; at seven the land breeze begins and
continues till eight in the morning, when it dies away.
During summer the sea breeze is very perceptible on all
the coasts of the Mediterranean sea, and even sometimes
as far north as Norway.
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
. 45
1 sea and
ad
eezes.
46
O L G G Y.
In the island of St Lewis on the coast of Africa, in
16° north latitude, and 16° west longitude, the wind
during the rainy season, which lasts from the middle of
July to the middle of October, is generally between
the south and the east: during the rest of the year it is
for the most part east or north-east in the morning ; but
as the sun rises, the wind approaches gradually towards
the north, till about noon it gets to the west of north,
and is called a sea breeze. Sometimes it shifts to the
east as the sun descends, and continues there during the
whole night. In February, March, April, May and
June, it blows almost constantly between the north and
west. In the island of Bulama, which likewise lies on
the wrest coast of Africa, in ii° north latitude, the
wind during nine months of the year blows from the
south-west; but in November and December, a very
cold wind blows from the north-east.
In the kingdom of Bornou, which lies between 160
and 20° north latitude, the warm season is introduced
about the middle of April by sultry winds from the south¬
east, which bring along with them a deluge of rain. In
Fezzan, in 250 north latitude, and 350 east longitude,
the wind from May to August blows from the east
south-east, or south-west, and is intensely hot.
In Abyssinia the winds generally blow from the Winds in
west, north-west, north, and north-east. During the Abyssinia,
months of June, July, August, September and October,
the north and north-east winds blow almost constantly,
especially in the morning and evening ; and during the
rest of the year they are much more frequent than any
other winds.
At Calcutta, in the province of Bengal, the wind At Calcut-
blows during January and February from the south-tu.
west and south; in March, April, and May from the
south; in June, July, August, and September, from
the south and south-east; in October, November, and
December, from the north-west. At Madras the most
frequent winds are the north and north-east.—At Ti¬
voli in St Domingo, and the isles des Vaches, the wind
blows oftenest from the south and south-east. From
these facts it appears, that in most tropical countries
with which we are acquainted, the wind generally
blows from the nearest ocean, except during the coldest
months, when it blows towards it. 43
In the temperate zones the direction of the wind is In the
by no means so regular as between the tropics. Even tcn!I)eratc
in the same degree of latitude, we find them oftenZ0Ilts'
blowing in different directions at the same time, while
their changes are often so sudden and capricious, that
to account for them has been hitherto found impossible.
When winds are violent and continue long, they ge¬
nerally extend over a large tract of country ; and this
is more certainly the case when they blow from the
north-east, than from any other points. By the multi¬
plication and comparison of meteorological tables, some
regular connection between the changes of the atmo¬
sphere in different places may in time be observed,
which will at last lead to a satisfactory theory of the
winds. It is from such tables chiefly that the following
facts have been collected.
In Virginia, the prevailing winds are between the fa Virginia,
south-west, west, north, and north-west; the most fre¬
quent is the south-west; which blows more constantly
in June, July, and August, than at any other season.
The north-west winds blow most constantly in Novem-
4 Y her,
5°
lu Egypt.
In the Me
diterra-
nean.
52
In Syria.
5.1
In Italy.
METEOROLOGY.
Chap. IV.
ber, December, January, and February. At Ipswich
in New England, the prevailing winds are also be¬
tween the south-west, west, north, and north-east *, the
most frequent is the north-west. But at Cambridge, in
the same province, the most frequent w ind is the south¬
east. The predominant winds at Newr York are the
north and west. In Nova Scotia north-west winds
blow for three-fourths of the year. The same wind
blows most frequently at Montreal in Canada, but at
Quebec the wind generally follows the direction of the
river St Lawrence, blowing either from the north-east
or south-west. At Hudson’s bay westerly winds blow
for three-fourths of the year} the north-west wind oc¬
casions the greatest cold •, but the north and north-east
are the vehicles of snowr.
It appears from these facts, that westerly winds are
most frequent over the whole eastern coast of Noxlh
America; that in the southern provinces south-wrest
winds predominate, and that the north-west become
gradually more frequent as we approach the frigid
zone.
In Egypt, during pai't of May, and during June,
July, August, and September, the wind blows almost
constantly from the north, varying sometimes in June
to the wrest, and in July to the west and the east j dur¬
ing part of September, and in October and November,
the winds are variable, but bloxv more regularly from
the east than any other quarter $ in December, January,
and February, they blow from the north, north-west,
and west *, towards the end of February they change to
the south, in which quarter they continue till near the
end of March j during the last days of March and in
April they blow from the south-east, south, and south¬
west, and at last from the cast •, and in this direction
they continue during a part of INI ay.
In the Mediterranean the wind blmvs nearly three-
fourths of the year from the north j about the equi¬
noxes there is always an easterly wind in that sea,
which is generally more constant in spring than in au¬
tumn. These observations do not apply to the gut of
Gibraltar, where there are seldom any winds except
the east and the west. At Bastia, in the island of Cor¬
sica, the prevailing wind is the south-west.
In Syria the north wind blows from the autumnal
equinox to November; during December, January,
and February, the winds blow from the west and south¬
west in March they blow from the south, in May
from the east, and in June from the north. From this
month to the autumnal equinox the wind changes
gradually as the sun approaches the equator j first to
the east, then to the south, and lastly to the west. At
Bagdad the most frequent winds are the south-west and
north-west j at Pekin, the north and the south 5 at
Kamtschatka, on the north-east coast of Asia, the pre¬
vailing winds blow from the west.
In Italy the prevailing winds differ considerably ac¬
cording to the situation of the places where the obser¬
vations have been made. At Home and Padua they
are northerly, at Milan easterly. All that we have
been able to learn respecting Spain and Portugal is,
that on the west coast of these countries the west is by
far the most common wind, particularly in summer j
and that at Madrid the wind is north-east for the
greatest part of the summer, blowing almost constantly
from the Pyrenean mountains. At Berne in Switzer-
2
land, the prevailing winds are the north and west; at Winds.
St Gothard, the north-east} at Lausanne the north-westv v  
and south-west. R ft4 f
M. Cotte has given us the result of observations made MCotte>s
at 86 different places ot France, from which it ap-ct)SerVEU
pears, that along the whole south coast of that empire tiens on the
the wind blow's most frequently from the north, north-etlon
west, and north-east: on the west coast, from the west,VI!!,1!!
^ — * 111 HI X cHlC va
south-west, and north-west; and on the north coast
from the south west. That in the interior parts of
France the south w'est wind blows most frequently in 18
places’, the wrest wind in 14 j the north in 135 the
south in 6 : the north-cast in 4 j the south-east in 2 ; the
east and north-west each of them in one. On the west
coast of the Netherlands, as far north as Rotterdam,
the prevailing winds are probably the south-west ‘y at
least this is the case at Dunkirk and Rotterdam. It is
probable also, that along the rest ot this coast, from
the Hague to Hamburgh, the prevailing winds are the
north-west, at least these winds are most frequent at
the Hague and at Franeker. The prevailing wind at
Delft is the south-east, and at Breda the north and the
east‘ . . „ ^ . 55
In Germany the east wind is most frequent at Got- Direction
tingen, Munich, Weissemburg, Dusseldorff, Saganum,ot bic'u'ids
Erford, and at Buda in Hungary *, the south-east at™. crma’
Prague and Wirtsburg j the north-east at Ratisbon,
and the west at Manheim and Berlin. 56
From an average of 10 years of the register kept by AtLomlcm.
order of the Royal Society^ it appears, that at London
the winds blow in the following order:
Winds. Days.
South-east 32
East 26
South I8
North 16
Winds.
South-west
North-east
North-west
West
Days.
112
58
5°
53
It appears from the same register, that the south-west
wind blows at an average more frequently than any
other wind during every month of the year, and that it
blows longest in July and August } that the north-east
blows most constantly during January, March, April,
May, and June, and most seldom during February, Ju¬
ly, September, and December j and that the north-west
wind blows oftener from November to March, and
more seldom during September and October, than any
other months. The south-west winds are also most
frequent at Bristol, and next to them are the north-
6ciSt«
The following table of the winds at Lancaster has Table of
been drawn up from a register kept for seven years at winds at
that place.
Winds. Days.
South-east 35
North 30
North-west 26
East 17
Lancaster.
Winds.
South-west
North-east
South
West
Days.
92
67
51
41
The following table is an abstract of nine years ob-AtDum-
servations made at Dumfries by Mr Copland. fries.
Winds.
South
West
East
South-west
Days.
82!
69
68
3'-a
Winds.
North
North-west
South-east
North-east
Days.
364
254
18^
144
The
IV. • M E T E O
The following table is an abstract of seven years ob¬
servations, made by Dr Meek at Cambuslang, near
Glasgow.
/
Win
23
Winds.
South-West
North-west
Days.
I74
40
Winds.
North-east
South-east
Days.
104
47
It appears from the register from which this table
was extracted, that the north-east wind blows much
more frequently in April, May, and June, and the south¬
west in July, August, and September, than at any other
period. We learn from the Statistical Account ol Scot¬
land, that the south-west is by far the most frequent
wind all over that kingdom, especially on the west coast.
At Saltcoats in Ayrshire, for instance, it blows three-
fourths of the year j and along the whole coast of Mur¬
ray on the north-east side of Scotland, it blows for two-
thirds of the year. East winds are common over all
Great Britain during April and May} but their influ¬
ence is felt most severely on the eastern coast.
The following table exhibits a view of the number
of days during which the westerly and easterly winds
blow in a year, at different parts of the island. Under
the term westerly are included the north-west, west,
south-west, and south } the term easterly is taken in
the same latitude.
Years of
observa¬
tion.
10
7
51
9
10
7
8
Wind.
Places.
Westerly
London
Lancaster
Liverpool
D umfries
Branxholm
Cambuslang
Hawkhill near Edin.
Medium
233
216
190
227.
232
2I4
229.
220.3
Easterly
r32
I49
*75
I37-
J44-7
60
lireetion
f the winds
1 Ireland.
61
t Copen-
ageu, and
1 Russia.
In Ireland, the south-west and west are the grand
trade-winds, blowing most in summer, autumn, and
winter, and least in spring. Jhe north-east blows
most in spring, and nearly double to what it does in au¬
tumn and winter. The south-west and north-west are
nearly equal, and are most frequent after the south-west
and west.
At Copenhagen the prevailing winds are the east
and south-east; at Stockholm, the west and north. In
Bussia, from an average of a register of 16 years, the
winds blow from November to April in the following
order.
W. N.W. E. S.W. S. NE. N.
Days 45 26 23 22 20 19 14
And during the other six months,
W. N.W. E. S.W. S. N.E. N.
Days 27 27 19 24 22 15 32
The west wind blows during the whole year 72 days 5
the north-west 53, the south-west and north 46 days
each. During summer it is calm for 41 days, and du-
nno- winter for 21 • In Norway the most frequent
SE.
12
S.E.
18
R O L O G Y.
winds are the south, and south-west and south-east. The
wind at Bergen is seldom directly west, but generally
south-west or south-east; a north-west, and especially a
north-east wind, are but little known there.
From the whole of these facts, it appears that the
most frequent winds on the south coasts of Europe are
the north, the north-east and north-west, and on the
western coast the south-west; that in the interior parts
which lie most contiguous to the Atlantic ocean, south¬
west winds are also most frequent 5 but that easterly
winds prevail in Germany. Westerly winds are ako
most frequent on the north-east coast of Asia.
It is probable that the winds are more constant in
the south temperate zone, which is in a great measure
covered with water, than in the north temperate zones,
where their direction must be frequently interrupted
and altered by mountains and other causes. ^
M. de la Bailie, who was sent thither by the French Main winds
king to make astronomical observations, informs us, that at the Cape
at the Cape of Good Hope the main winds are the of Good
south-east and north-west; -that other w inds seldom last B°pc.
longer than a few hours *, and that the east and north¬
east winds blow very seldom. The south-east wind
blows in most months of the year, but chiefly from
October to April; the north-west prevails during the
other six months, bringing along with it rain, and tem¬
pests, and hurricanes. Between the Cape of Good
Hope and New Holland the winds are commonly
westerly, and blow in the following order : north¬
west, south-west, w'est, north.
In the great South sea, from latitude 30° to 40°^ the Pa-
south, the south-east trade-winds blow most frequently,clllu ocean,
especially when the sun approaches the tropic of Capri¬
corn ) the wind next to it in frequency is the north¬
west, and next to that is the south-west.
Thus it appears that the trade-winds sometimes ex*
tend farther into the south temperate zone than their
usual limits, particularly during summer; that beyond
their influence the winds are commonly westerly, and
that they blow in the following order : north-west,
south-west, west. 64
We have now considered pretty much at large the Theory of
direction of the winds in different parts of the earth’s the winds,
surface. Another very curious part of the history of
the winds relates to their violence, and the effects with
which they are attended, or to the history of hurricanes,
whirlwinds, tornadoes, &c. Of some of these we have
already treated under the articles Hurricane and
Harmattan } and the confined limits of this article
oblige us to refer our readers for more particulars to
Capper’s Observations on the Winds and Mon¬
soons. 65
As to the velocity of the wind, its variations are al- Velocity of
most infinite, from the gentlest breeze, to the hurricane ^
which tears up trees and blows down houses. Our most *
violent winds take place when neither the heat nor the ous-
cold is greatest 5 violent winds generally extend over a
large tract of country, and they are accompanied with
sudden and great falls in the mercury of the barometer.
The wind is sometimes very violent at a distance from
the earth, while it is quite calm at its surface. On
one occasion Lunardi went at the rate of 70 miles an
hour in his balloon, though it was quite calm at Edin¬
burgh when he ascended, and continued so during his
whole voyage.
4 Y 2 A
724 M E T E O R O L O G Y.
"Winds. A pretty good idea of the velocity of the wind, under
< v < different circumstances, maybe formed from the follow-
s_. , ‘ ^ ing table, which was drawn up by Mr Smeaton.
the winds.   
*1
^ile>
per
1 lour
1
2
3
4
5
10
*5
20
25
3°
35
4°
45
5°
6o
8o
100
Feet
per
Second.
Perpendicular force on one square foot,
in Avoirdupois pounds and parts.
I.47
2.93
4.4
5.87
7-33
14.67
22.
29-34
36.67
44.01
5I*34
58.68
66.01
73-35
88.02
117.36
146.7
.005
.020
•°44
•°79
.123
•49 2
x.107
1.968
3-075
4.429
6.027
7-873
9-963
12.300
3I-49°
49.200
{Hardly perceptible.
Just perceptible.
Gently pleasant.
^•Pleasant, brisk.
Very
I
brisk.
High wind.
Very high wind.
Storm or tempest.
Great storm.
Hurricane.
f Hurricane that tears up trees
< and carries buildings before
Lit.
For the means of ascertaining the velocity of the
winds, see Anemometer and Anemoscope.
We shall now endeavour to explain the phenomena
that we have been describing, or to form a plausible
theory of the winds.
The atmosphere is a fluid surrounding the earth, and
extending to an unknown height. Now all fluids tend
invariably to a level: if a quantity of water be taken
out of any part of a vessel, the surrounding water will
immediately flow in to supply its place, and the surface
will become level as before \ or if an additional quan¬
tity of water be poured into any part of the vessel, it
will not remain there, but diffuse itself equally over the
whole. Such exactly would be the case with the at¬
mosphere. Whatever therefore destroys the equilibrium
of this fluid, either by increasing or diminishing its
bulk in any particular place, must at the same time
occasion a wind.
Air, besides its qualities in common with other fluids,
is also capable of being dilated and compressed. Sup¬
pose a vessel filled with air : if half the quantity which
it contains be drawn out by means of an air-pump, the
remainder will still fill the vessel completely; or if
twice or tfiree times the original quantity be forced in
by a condenser, the vessel will still be capable of hold¬
ing it.
Rarefied air is lighter, and condensed air heavier
than common air. When fluids of unequal specific
gravities are mixed together, the heavier always descend
and the lighter ascend. Were quicksilver, water,
and oil, thrown into the same vessel together, the quick¬
silver would uniformly occupy the bottom j the water
the middle, and the oil the top. Were water to be
thrown into a vessel of oil, it would immediately
descend, because it is heavier than oil. Exactly the
same thing takes place in the atmosphere. Were a
Chap. IV,
quantity of air, for instance, to be suddenly condensed "Winch,
at a distance from the surface of the earth, being now''-—y’-*—<
heavier than before, it would descend till it came to
air of its own density ; or, were a portion of the
atmosphere at the surface of the earth to be suddenly
rarefied, being now lighter than the surrounding air, it
would immediately ascend.
If a bladder half filled with air be exposed to the Cause of
heat of the fire, the air within will soon expand, and the trade-
distend the bladder 3 if it be now removed to a cold vvlI1(b.
place, it will soon become flaccid as before. This
shews that heat rarefies, and that cold condenses air.
The surface of the torrid zone is much more heated by
the rays of the sun than the frozen or temperate zones,
because the rays fall upon it much more perpendicular¬
ly. This heat is communicated to the air near the sur¬
face of the torrid zone, which being thereby rarefied,
ascends, and its jdace is supplied by colder air, which
rushes in from the north and south.
The diurnal motion of the earth is greatest at the
equator, and diminishes gradually as we approach the
poles, where it ceases altogether. Evex-y spot of the
earth’s surface at the equator moves at the rate of 15
geographical miles in a minute 3 at 40° of latitude it
moves at about 11 miles and a half in a minute, and at
the 30° at nearly 13 miles. The atmosphere, by mov¬
ing continually round along with the earth, has ac¬
quired the same degree of motion, so that those parts
of it which are above the equator move faster than
those which are at a distance. Were a portion of the
atmosphere to he transported in an instant from latitude
30° to the equator, it would not immediately acquire
the velocity of the equator 3 the eminences of the earth,
thex-efore, would strike against it, and it would assume
the appearance of an east wind. This is the case in a
smaller degree with the air that flows towards the equa¬
tor, to supply the place of the rarefied air which is con¬
tinually ascending 3 and this, when combined with its
real motion from north to south, must cause it to assume
the appearance of a north-eastei’ly wind on this side the
equator, and of a south-easterly beyond it.
The motion westward occasioned by this diffei-ence
in celerity alone, would be veiy small 3 but it is in¬
creased by another circumstance. Since the rarefaction
of the air in the torrid zone is owing to the heat de-
x-ived from the contiguous earth, and since this heat is
owing to the perpendicular rays of the sun, those parts
must be hottest where the sun is actually vei-tical 3 and
consequently the air above them must be most rarefied 3
the contiguous parts of the atmosphere will therefore be
drawn most fox-cibly to that particular spot. Now, since
the diurnal motion of the earth is from east to west, this
hottest spot will be continually shifting westwards, and
this will occasion a current of the atmosphere in that
direction. That this cause really operates, appeal’s
from a circumstance already^ mentioned : When the
sun approaches either of the tropics, the trade-wind on
the same side of the equator assumes a more easterly
direction, evidently from the cause here mentioned,
while the opposite trade-wind being deprived of this
additional impulse, blows in a direction more perpen- -wliaun-
dicular to the equator. creases the
The westerly dii*ection of the trade-wind is still westerly di-
farther increased by another cause. Since the attrac-
tion of the sun and moon produces so remarkable an
effect
'hap. IV. . M E T E O R O L O G Y. 725
Winds, eftect upon the ocean, we cannot hut suppose that an
•""■v——' effect equally great, at least, is produced upon the at¬
mosphere. Indeed as the atmosphere is nearer the
moon than the sea is, the effects produced by attraction
upon it ought to be greater. \\ hen we add to this
the elasticity of the air, or that disposition which it has
to dilate itself when freed from any of its pressure, we
cannot hut conclude, that the tides in the atmosphere
are considerable. Now since the apparent diurnal mo¬
tion of the moon is from east to west, the tides must fol¬
low it in the same manner, and consequently produce a
constant motion in the atmosphere from east to west. This
reasoning is confirmed by the observations of several
philosophers, particularly of AI. Casson, that in the tor¬
rid zone the barometer is always two-thirds of a line
higher twice every 24 hours than during the rest of the
day ; and that the time of this rise always corresponds
with the tides of the sea } a proof that it proceeds from
the same cause.
All these different causes probably combine in the
production of the trade-winds •, and from their being
sometimes united, and sometimes distinct or opposite,
arise all those little irregularities which take place 111
the direction and foixe of the trade-winds.
Since the great cause of these winds is the rarefaction
of the atmosphere by the heat oi the sun, its ascension
and the consequent rushing in of colder air from the
north and south, the internal boundary of the trade-
winds must he that parallel of the torrid zone which
is hottest, because there the ascension of the rarefied air
must take place. Now since the sun does not remain
stationary, but is constantly shifting from one tropic
to the other, we ought naturally to expect that this
boundary would vary together with its exciting cause }
that therefore, when the sun is perpendicular to the
tropic of Cancer, the north-east trade-wind would extend
no farther south than north latitude 230 30' that the
south-east wind would extend as far north } and that,
when the sun was in the tropic of Capricorn, the very
contrary would take place. We have seen, however,
that though this boundary be subject to considerable
changes from this very cause, it may in general be con¬
sidered as fixed between the second and fifth degrees of
north latitude.
Though the sun be perpendicular to each of the
tropics during part of the year, he is for one-half ot it
at a considerable distance, so that the heat which they
acquire, while he is present, is more than lost during
his absence. But the sun is perpendicular to the equa¬
tor twice in a year, and never farther distant from it
than 234-0 } being therefore twice every year as much
heated, and never so much cooled as the tropics, its
mean heat must be greater, and the atmosphere in
eonsequence generally most rarefied at that place.
Why then, it will be asked, is not the equator the
boundary of the two trade-winds P To speak more
accurately than we have hitherto done, the internal li¬
mit of these winds must be that parallel where the mean
heat of the earth is greatest. This would be the equa¬
tor, wei’e it not for a reason that shall now be explain¬
ed.
It has been shewn by astronomers, that the orbit
of the earth is an ellipsis, and that the sun is placed in
one of the foci. Were this orbit to he divided into two
parts by a straight line perpendicular to the transverse
axis, and passing through the centre-of the sun, one of winds,
these parts would be less than the other ; and the earth ■—v"*—
during its passage through the small part of its orbit,
would constantly he nearer the sun than while it moved
through the other portion. The celerity of the earth’s
motion in any part of its orbit is always proportioned
to its distance from the sun ; the nearer it is to the sun
it moves the faster; the farther distant, the slower.
The earth passes over the smaller portion of its orbit
during our winter, which must therefore be shorter
than our summer, both on account of this part of the.
orbit being smaller than the other, and on account of
the increased celerity of the earth’s motion. The dif¬
ference, according to Cassini, is 7 days, 23 hours, 53
minutes. A\ bile it is winter in the northern, it is sum¬
mer in the southern hemisphere j wherefore the sum¬
mer in the southern hemisphere must be just as much
shorter than the winter, as our winter is shorter than
our summer. The difference, therefore, between the
length of the summer in the two hemispheres is almost
16 days. The summer in the northern hemisphere
consists of 190^ days, while in the southern it consists
only of 1744-. They are to one another nearly in the
proportion of 14 to 12.8; and the heat of the two
hemispheres may probably have nearly the same pro¬
portion to one another. The internal limit of the
trade-winds ought to be that parallel where the mean
heat of the globe is greatest; this would be the equa¬
tor, if both hemispheres were equally hot j but since
the northern hemisphere is the hottest, that parallel
ought to be situated somewhere in it; and since the
difference between the heat of the two hemispheres is
not great, the parallel ought not to be so far distant from
the equator.
The trade-wind would blow regularly round the
whole globe if the torrid zone were all covered with
water. If the Indian ocean were not bounded by land
on the north, it would blow there in the same manner
as it does in the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The
rays of light pass through a transparent body without
communicating any, or at least but a small degree of
heat. If a piece of wood be inclosed in a glass vessel,
and the focus of a burning-glass directed upon it, the
wood will burn to ashes, while the glass through which
all the rays passed is not even heated. When an opaque
body is exposed to the sun’s rays, it is heated in pro¬
portion to its opacity. If the bulb of a thermometer
be exposed to the sun, the mercury will not rise so high
as it would do if this bulb were painted black. Land
is much more opaque than water; it becomes therefore
much warmer when both are equally exposed to the in¬
fluence of the sun. For this reason, when the sun ap¬
proaches the tropic of Cancer, India, China, and the
adjacent countries, become much hotter than the ocean
which washes their southern coasts. The air over them
becomes rarefied, and ascends, while colder air rushes
in from the Indian ocean to supply its place. As this
current of air moves from the equator northward, it
must, for a reason already explained, assume the ap¬
pearance of a south-west wind 5 and this tendency east¬
ward is increased by the situation of the countries to
which it flows. This is the cause of the south-west
monsoon, which blows during summer in the northern
parts of the Indian ocean. Between Borneo and the
coast of China, its direction is almost due north, be¬
cause
i
METEOR
cause the country to winch the current is directed lies
rather to the west of north; a circumstance which
counteracts its greater velocity.
In winter, when the sun is on the south side of the
equator, these countries become cool, and the north-east
trade-wind resumes its course, which, had it not been
for the interference of these countries, would have con¬
tinued the whole year.
As the sun approaches the tropic of Capricorn, it be¬
comes almost perpendicular to New Holland *, that
continent is heated in its turn, the air over it is rarefied,
and colder air rushes in from the north and west to sup¬
ply its place. This is the cause of the north-west mon¬
soon, which blows from October to April, from 30 to
10° south latitude. Near Sumatra its direction is regu¬
lated by the coast : this is the case also between Africa
and Madagascar.
The same cause which occasions the monsoons, gives
rise to the winds which blow on the west coasts oi
Africa and America. The air above the land is hotter’
and rarer, and consequently lighter than the air above
the sea j the sea air, therefore, flows in, and forces the
lighter land atmosphere to ascend.
The same thing will account for the phenomena of
-the sea and land breezes. During the day, the cool
air of the sea, loaded with vapoui’S, flows in upon the
land, and takes the place of the rarefied land air. As
the sun declines, the rarefaction of the land air is dimi¬
nished ; thus an equilibrium is restored. As the sea is
not so much heated during the day as the land, neither
is it so much cooled during the night, because it is con¬
stantly exposing a new surface to the atmosphere. As
the night approaches, therefore, the cooler and denser
air of the hills (for where there are no hills there are
no sea and land breezes) falls down upon the plains,
and pressing upon the now comparatively lighter air of
the sea, causes the land breeze.
The rarefied air which ascends between 2° and 50
nortli latitude, has been shewn to be the principal
cause of the trade-winds. As this air ascends, it must
become gradually colder, and consequently heavier ; it
would therefore descend again if it were not buoyed up
by the constant ascent of new rarefied air. It must
therefore spread itself to the north and south, and gra¬
dually mix in its passage with the lower air; and the
greater part of it probably does not reach far beyond
30°, which is the external limit of 'the trade-wind.
Thus there is a constant circulation of the atmosphere
in the torrid zone : it ascends near the equator, diffuses
itself towards the north add south, descends gradually
as it approaches 30°, and, returning again towards the
equator, performs the same circuit. It has been the
opinion of the greater part of those who have consider¬
ed this subject, that the whole of the rarefied air
which ascends near the equator, advances towards the
poles and descends there. But if this were the case, a
constant wind would blow from both poles towards the
equator, and the trade winds would extend over the whole
earth j for otherwise the ascent of air in the torrid zone
would very soon cease. A little reflection must con¬
vince us that it cannot be true. Rarefied air differs in
nothing from the common air, except in containing a
greater quantity of heat. As it ascends, it gradually
loses this superfluous heat. What then should hinder it
from descending, and mixing with the atmosphere be-
O L O G Y. Chap. IV.
low ? That there is a constant current of superior air,
however, towards the poles, cannot be doubted but itv—J
consists principally of hydrogen gas. We shall imme¬
diately attempt to assign the reason why its accumula¬
tion at the pole is not always attended with a north
wind.
If the attraction of the moon and the diurnal motion
of the sun have any eflect upon the atmosphere, and
that they have some effect can hardly he disputed, there
must be a real motion of the air westwards within the
limits of the trade-winds. When this body of air
reaches America, its farther passage westwards is stopt
by the mountains which extend from one extremity of
that continent to the other. From the momentum of
this air, when it strikes against the sides of these moun¬
tains, and from its elasticity, it must acquire from them
a considerable velocity, in a direction contrary to the
first, and would therefore return eastwards again if this
were not prevented by the trade-winds. It must there¬
fore rush forwards in that direction where it meets with
the least resistance : that is, towards the north and
south. As air is nearly a perfectly clastic body, when
it strikes against the sides of the American mountains,
its velocity will not be perceptibly diminished, though
its direction be changed. Continuing to move, there¬
fore, with the velocity of the equator, when it arrives
at the temperate zones it will assume the appearance of
a north-east or south-east wind. To this is to be as¬
cribed the frequency of south-west winds over the At¬
lantic ocean and western parts of Europe. Whether
these winds are equally frequent in the northern Pacific
ocean, we have not been able to ascertain j but it is
probable that the mountains in Asia produce the same
effect as those in America.
It is not impossible that another circumstance may
also contribute to the production of these winds. The
oxygen, which is rather heavier than common air, may
mix with the atmosphere ; but the hydrogen (a cubic
foot of which weighs only 41.41 grains, while a cubic
foot of oxygen weighs 593-32 grains) may ascend to
the higher regions of the atmosphere.
By what means the decomposition is accomplished
(if it takes place at all) we cannot tell. There are
probably a thousand causes in nature of which we are
entirely ignorant. Whether heat and light, when long
applied to vapours, may not be able to decompound
them, by uniting with the hydrogen, which seems to
have a greater attraction for heat than oxygen has, or
whether the electrical fluid may not be capable of pro¬
ducing this effect, are questions which future observa¬
tions and experiments must determine. Dr Franklin
filled a glass tube with water, and passed an electrical
shock through it j the tube was broken in pieces, and
the whole water disappeared. He repeated the experi¬
ment with ink instead of water, and placed the tube
upon white paper: the same effects followed, and the
ink, though it disappeared completely, left no stain on
the paper. Whether the water in these cases was de¬
composed or not, it is impossible to say j but the suppo¬
sition that it was, is not improbable. An experiment
might easily be contrived to determine the point.
This decomposition would account for the frequency
of south-west winds, particularly in summer 5 for this
new air is furnished to supply the place of that which
is forced northwards by the causes already explained.
Perhaps
Chap IV,
Winds. Perhaps it may be a confirmation of tins conjecture,
i——v"—■-1 that the south-west winds generally extend over a great¬
er tract of country than most other winds which blow
in the temperate zones. AVhat has been said of south¬
west winds holds equally with regard to north-west
winds in the south temperate zone.
After south-west winds have blown for some time, a
great quantity of air will be accumulated at the pole,
at least if they extend over all the northern hemisphere ;
and it appears, from comparing the tables kept by some
of our late navigators in the northern Pacific ocean with
similar tables kept in this island, that this is sometimes
the case so far as relates to the Atlantic and Pacific
oceans. When this accumulation becomes great, it
must, from the nature of fluids, and from the elasticity
of the air, press with a considerable and increasing force
on the advancing air ; so that in time it becomes strong¬
er than the south-west wind. This will occasion at first
a calm, and afterwards a north wind, which will be¬
come gradually easterly as it advances southwards, from
its not assuming immediately the velocity of the earth.
The mass of the atmosphei’e will be increased in all those
places over which this north-east wind blows; this is
confirmed by the almost constant rise of the barometer
during a north-east wind.
Whatever tends to increase the bulk of the atmo¬
sphere near the pole, must tend also to increase the fre¬
quency of north-east winds ; and if there he any season
when this increase takes place more particularly, that
season will be most liable to these winds. During win¬
ter the northern parts of Europe are covered with snow,
which is melted in the beginning of summer, when the
heat of the sun becomes more powerful. Great quanti¬
ties of vapour are during that time raised, which will
augment both the bulk and weight of the atmosphere,
especially if the conjecture about the conversion of va¬
pour into air has any foundation. Hence north-east
winds are most prevalent during May and June.
But it will be said, if tins hypothesis were true, the
south-west and north-east winds ought to blow' alter¬
nately, and continue each of them for a stated time j
whereas the south-west wind blows sometimes longer
and sometimes shorter, neither is it always followed by
a north-east wind.
If the conjecture about the decomposition of vapour
in the torrid zone be true, the hydrogen which formed
a part of it will ascend from its lightness, and form a
stratum above the atmospherical air, and gradually ex¬
tend itself, as additional hydrogen rises, towards the
north and south, till at last it reaches the poles. The
lightness of hydrogen is owing to the great quantity of
heat which it contains ; as it approaches the poles it
must lose a great part of this heat, and may in conse¬
quence become heavy enough to mix with the atmo¬
sphere below. Oxygen makes a part of the atmo¬
sphere ; and its proportion near the poles may some¬
times be greater than ordinary, on account of the addi¬
tional quantity brought thither from the torrid zone.
Mr Cavendish mixed oxygen and hydrogen together in
a glass jar 5 and upon making an electrical, spark pass
through them, they immediately combined and formed
water.
That there is electric matter at the poles, cannot be
doubted. The abbe Chappe informs us, that he saw
thunder and lightning much more frequently at Tobol-
727
ski and other parts of Siberia, than in any other part winds.
of the world. In the north of Europe, the air, during ' v—<
very cold weather, is exceedingly electric; sparks can
be drawn from a person’s hands and face, by combing
his hair, or even powdering him with a puff, spinas
was au eye-witness to this fact, and to still more asto¬
nishing proofs of the electricity of the atmosphere during
great colds.
May not the appearance of the aurora borealis he
owing to the union of oxygen and hydrogen by the in¬
tervention of the electric fluid ? That it is an electrical
phenomenon, at least, can hardly be doubted. Artifi¬
cial electricity is much strengthened during an aurora,
as M Volta and Mr Canton have observed $ and the
magnetic needle moves with the same irregularity dur¬
ing an aurora that has been observed in other electrical
phenomena. This fact we learn from Bergman and
De la Lande. Many philosophers have attempted to
demonstrate that aurorae boreales are beyond the earth’s
atmosphere ; but the very different results of their cal¬
culations evidently prove that they were not possessed
of sufficient data.
If this conjecture be true, part of the atmosphere,
near the poles must at times be converted into water.
This would account for the long continuance of south¬
west winds at particular times; when they do so, a de¬
composition of the atmosphere is going on at the pole.
It would render this conjecture more probable, if the
barometer fell always when a south-west wind continues
long. 70
If tins hypothesis be true, a south-west wind ought South-west
always to blow after aurorae boreales ; and we are in-win^s VL1^
r 11 tv r itt. 1 1 • • n i common at-
tormed by Mr YY inn, that tins is actually the case. ter aurorsB
This he found never to fail in 23 instances. He oh- boreales.
served also, that when the aurora was bright, the gale
came on within 24 hours, but did not last long: but if
it was faint and dull, the gale was longer in beginning,
and less violent, but it continued longer. This looks
like a confirmation of our conjecture. Bright aurorae
are probably nearer than those which are dull. Now,
if the aurora borealis be attended with a decomposition
of a quantity of air, that part of the atmosphere which
is nearest must first rush in to supply the distant parts.
Just as if a hole were bored in the end of a long vessel
filled with water, the water nearest the hole would flow
out immediately, and it would be some time before the
water at the other end of the vessel began to move.
The nearer we are to the place of precipitation, the
sooner will we feel the south-west wind. It ought
therefore to begin sooner after a bright aurora, because
it is nearer than a dull and faint one. Precipitations
of the atmosphere at a distance from the pole cannot be
so great as those which take place near it; because the
cold will not be sufficient to condense so great a quantity
of hydrogen ; south-west winds, therefore, ought not
to last so long after bright as after dull aurora?. Winds
are more violent after bright aurox’te, because they are
nearer the place of precipitation j just as the water near
the hole of the vessel runs swifter than that which is at
a considerable distance. ^,
If these conjectures have any foundation in nature, Probable
there are two sources of south-west winds j the first has causes of
its origin in the trade winds, the second in precipita- so.utj1~west
tions of the atmosphere near the pole. When they ori- 1
ginate from the first cause, they will blow in countries
farther
METEOROLOGY.
728
Winds, farther south for some time before they are felt in those
which are farther north j hut the contrary will take
place when they are owing to the second cause. In
this last case, too, the barometer will sink considerably j
and it actually does so constantly after aurorae, as we
are informed by Mr Madison, who paid particular at¬
tention to this subject. By keeping accurate meteoro¬
logical tables in different latitudes, it might easily be
discovered whether these consequences be true, and of
course whether the above conjectures be well or ill
^, grounded.
Winds appears that winds generally commence at that
commonly point towards which they blow j and hence they must
begin at the arise from a rarefaction and consequent displacing of the
^ t0~ a^r *n some particular place, by the action of heat, or
which they some other cause. Perhaps, according to the idea of
blow. Mr Williams, this cause may be an increased precipita¬
tion of the superior strata of air, rendered unusually
dense from its being surcharged with moisture in the
place where the wind begins to blow, or from an in¬
creased evaporation from a humid surface in the oppo¬
site direction.
Hurricanes are constantly preceded by a great de¬
pression of the thermometer; and in these cases the
wind often seems to blow from every direction towards
the quarter where this fall of the barometer is ob¬
served.
Violent winds from the north-east have repeatedly
been observed to begin at the quarter towards which
they blow. In 1740 Dr Franklin was prevented from
observing an eclipse of the moon at Philadelphia by a
north-east storm, which came on about seven o’clock
in the evening. He was surprised to find afterwards
that it had not come on at Boston till near 11 o’clock;
and, upon comparing all the accounts which he recei¬
ved from the several colonies of the beginning of this
and other storms of the same kind, he found it to be
always an hour later the farther north-east, for every
100 miles. “ From hence (says he) I formed an idea
of the course of the storm, which I will explain by a
familiar instance. I suppose a long canal of water stop¬
ped at the end by a gate. The water is at rest till the
gate is Opened ; then it begins to move out through the
gate, and the water next the gate is lirst in motion,
and moves on towards the gate, and so on successively,
till the water at the head of the canal is in motion,
which it is last of all. In this case the water moves
indeed towards the gate ; but the successive times of
beginning the motion are in the contrary Avay, viz.
from the gate back to the head of the canal. Thus to
produce a north-cast storm, I suppose some great rare¬
faction of the air in or near the gulf of Mexico •, the
air arising thence has its place supplied by the next more
northern, cooler, and therefore denser and heavier
air •, a successive current is formed, to which our coast
and inland mountains give a north-east direction.”
Several instances of a similar kind have occurred.
In 1802, Dr Mitchell observed a storm which began
at Charlestown on the 21st of February, at two o’clock
P. M. but was not observed at Washington, several
hundred miles to the north-east, till five o’clock ; at
New-York till 10, nor at Albany till daybreak of the
following morning. Hence it appears that it must have
moved at the rate of 1100 miles in n hours, or ioq
pules an hour. 1
Chap, IV J
A remarkable storm of this kind, in which the wind
was easterly, and attended with a heavy fall of snow,'—-t—
was observed in Scotland on the 8th of February 1799 )
but the motion of the wind Avas much slower. It began
to suoav at Falkirk on the 7th of February at six in the
evening, but in Edinburgh not till one o’clock A, M.
on the 8th; and the siaoav was not observed at Dunbar
till seven hours after. The storm continued II hours,
during Avhich time it did not travel more than 100
miles.
Currents of air from the poles naturally assume a
north-east direction as they advance soutlnvards, be¬
cause their diurnal motion becomes less than that of the
earth. Various circumstances, hoAvever, may change
this direction, and cause them to become north, or even
north-Avest Avinds. The south-A\rest Avinds themselves
may often prove sufficient for this j and violent rains,
or great heat, by lessening or rarefying the atmosphere
in any country, Avill produce the same effect in coun¬
tries to the westAvards, when north Avinds happen to be
blowing.
In North America, the north-west winds become
gradually more frequent as we advance nortliAvards.
The east coast of this continent, Avhere the observations
Avere made from Avhich this conclusion was draAvn, is
alone cultivated j the rest of the country is covered
Avxth Avood. Noav cultivated countries are generally
considered as AVarmer than those Avhich are uncultivated,
though Mr Williams is of a difl'erent opinion; and on
this circumstance founds his hypothesis of the climate
of Britain being much deteriorated during the last 50
years. The air, therefore, in the interior parts of the
country should he constantly colder than the cast coast.
This difference Avill scarcely be perceptible in the south¬
ern parts, because there the influence of the sun is very
powerful; but it will become gradually greater as we
advance northwards, because the influence of the sun
diminishes, and the continent becomes broader. Hence
north-Avest Avinds ought to become more frequent upon
the east coast as we advance northwards j and they
Avill probably cease to bloAV so often as scon as the
Avhole continent of North America becomes cultiva¬
ted. ... . .73
There is one curious circumstance Avliich deserves at-Different
tention : One current of air is often observed to blow atcurrentse®H
the surface of the earth, Avhile a current in the contrary 1
direction is floAving in a superior part of the atmosphere. mospherea*||
Dr Thomson on one occasion observed three currents the same
of this kind bloAving all at the same time in contrary'I™6*
directions. It has been affirmed that changes of wea¬
ther commonly commence in the upper strata, and that
they are gradually extended by the current of air that
commences above, proceeding toAvards the loAver parts
of the atmosphere.
Besides these more general Avinds, there are others partial
Avhich extend only over a very small part of the earth,winds.
These originate from many different causes. The
atmosphere is principally composed of three different
kinds of air, oxygen, azote, and carbonic acid, to Avhich
may bo added Avater. Great quantities of each of these
ingredients are constantly changing their aerial form,
and combining Avith various substances: or they are
separating from other bodies, assuming the form of air,
and mixing with the atmosphere. Partial deficiencies,
therefore, and partial accumulations, must be continu¬
ally
M ETEOROLOGY.
Chap. V. M £ T E O II .CLOG Y. 729
Meteors, ally taking place in different parts of the atmosphere,
which will occasion winds varying in direction, violence,
and continuance, according to the suddenness and the
quantity of air destroyed or produced. Besides these,
there are many other ingredients constantly mixing
with the atmosphere, and many partial causes of conden¬
sation and rarefaction in particular places. To these,
and probably to other causes hitherto unknown, are to
he ascribed all those winds which blow in any place
besides the general ones already explained j and which,
as they depend on causes hitherto at least reckoned
contingent, will probably for ever prevent uniformity
and regularity in the winds. All these causes, how¬
ever, may, and probably" will, be discovered : the cir¬
cumstances in which they will take place, and the ef¬
fects they will produce, may be known $ and when¬
ever this is the case, the winds of any place may in
some measure be reduced to calculation.
Chap. V. Of Meteors.
Meteors. The principal luminous phenomena denominated
meteors, have been fully considered under Atmo¬
spheric Electricity. Those meteors that burst in
the air, and are followed by the falling of stones or
other mineral substances, have been fully described and
accounted for under Meteorolite. We have here
only to notice briefly the meteors called jailing stars,
and ignes fatui.
falling The failing or shooting star is a very common pheno-
itar* menon, and takes place more especially at those sea¬
sons and in those situations where the aurora borealis is
most frequently observed. Indeed they are considered by
most philosophers as modifications of the same pheno¬
menon, and depending on the same cause. We have
seen good reason to conclude that the aurora borealis is
an electrical meteor; and if the falling star is so nearly
allied to the aurora as is supposed, it must also be j>ro-
duced by electricity. Mr G. Morgan seems to have
no doubt of the electrical nature of this meteor, and
remarks that if what appears as an undulating flash in
the aurora, could be concentrated or confined within
smaller dimensions, it would probably assume the ap¬
pearance of a falling star. He founds this opinion
chiefly on the following experiment.
Into a tube 48 inches long, and ^ inch diameter,
Mr Morgan conveyed as much air, as, under the com¬
mon pressure of the atmosphere, would fill two inches in
length of the same tube. (The tube we presume
was previously exhausted of air.) One extremity of
the tube he connected with the ground by means of
good conductors, and fastened to the other a metallic ball.
Through the tube thus filled with rarefied air, he sent
electric sparks of different magnitudes, by bringing the
ball within the striking distance of different fixed con¬
ductors. When the sparks were small, a flash like that
of the aurora borealis, seemed to fill the whole tube ;
but when the spark was what might be made to strike
through 10 inches in the open air, it appeared to strike
through the whole length of the tube, with all the
brilliancy and straightness of a falling star. If, how¬
ever, he extracted part of the air out of the tube, by
the air-pump, he could never make the electric fluid
assume any form excepting that of a flash j but by
exchanging the tube for another with a thermometrical
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
ball, and treating it in the same manner as the preced- Meteors,
ing, the flash never appeared, but the fluid in its passage —y-—-
assumed all the brilliancy of a falling star.
It is easy to trace the similarity of circumstances that
take place in this experiment, and in the natural pheno¬
menon of the falling star. Both take place in rarefied
air 5 both are remarkable for the brightness of their
light, and for the straightness of their direction. That
falling stars are frequently, if not always, the concen¬
tration of an aurora borealis, may be inferred from
their being the constant attendants of a very electrical
state of the atmosphere; and from their frequent appear¬
ance near that portion of the heavens which is illu¬
mined by the northern lights at the time of their ap¬
pearance.
Mr Morgan was riding towards Norwich late at
night, when to the north-east of the town he beheld a
fine conical stream of the aurora borealis. The whole
body every now and then flashed, as if an additional
quantity of electric fluid were thrown into it, and
nearly at the same instant he perceived what is vulgarly
called a falling star, darting from its summit. This
appearance he observed twice successively.
The ignis futuus, or will-with-the-wisp, that appears igni/tL-
so often in boggy, marshy and damp situations, decoy- tuus.
ing the unwary traveller, and terrifying the supersti¬
tious vulgar, seems to be rather of a phosphoric than an
electric nature, similar to the light which is emitted
by stale fish, rotten wood, and other putrescent sub-
"stances. Sir Isaac Newton defined it to be a vapour
shining without heat.
A remarkable ignis fatuus was observed by Mr
Derham, in some boggy ground, between two rocky
hills. lie was so fortunate as to be able to approach it
within two or three yards. It moved with a brisk and
desultory motion about a dead thistle, till a slight agita¬
tion of the air, occasioned, as he supposed, by his near
approach to it, occasioned it to jump to another place;
and as he approached, it kept flying before him. He
was near enough to satisfy himself, that it could not be
the shining of glow-worms or other insects—it was one
uniform body of light.
M. Beccaria mentions two of these luminous appear¬
ances, which were frequently observed in the neigh¬
bourhood of Bologna, and which emitted a light equal
to that of an ordinary faggot. Their motions were
unequal, sometimes ifising, and sometimes sinking to¬
wards the earth ; sometimes totally disappearing, though
in general they continued hovering about six feet from
the ground. They differed in size and figure ; and in¬
deed, the form of each was fluctuating, sometimes
floating like waves, and dropping sparks of fire. He
was assured there was not a dark night in the whole
year in which they did not appear; nor was their'appear-
ance at all affected by the weather, whether cold or
hot, snow or rain. They have been known to change
their colour from red to yellow'; and generally grew
fainter as any person approached, vanishing entirely
when the observer came very near to them, and appear¬
ing again at some distance.
Dr Shaw also describes a singular ignis fatuus,
which he saw in the Holy Land. It was sometimes
globular, or in the form of the flame of a candle; and
immediately afterwards spread itself so much, as to
involve the whole company in a pale inoffensive light,
4 ^ and
73°
METEOROLOGY.
Weather, and then was observed to contract itself again, and sud-
v denly disappear. In less than a minute, however, it
would become visible as before, and run along from one
place to another ; or would expand itself over more
than three acres of the adjacent mountains. The atmo¬
sphere at this time was thick and hazy.
All these luminous appearances are probably owing
to the extrication of hydrogen gas so slightly impreg¬
nated with phosphorus as to continue emitting a faint
light, without producing that brilliant flash which
follows the sudden extrication into the air, of the com¬
mon phosphorated hydrogen gas obtained in the usual
chemical experiment of thx*owing phosphuret of lime
into water.
Chap. VI. Of the Application of Meteorology to
Prognosticating the Weather.
It has ever been a principal object among mankind,
to foretel the changes of weather that are likely to fol¬
low particular appearances in the sky, among the
heavenly bodies, &c.; and it has been often alleged,
that in this respect the philosopher is far behind the
husbandman and the shepherd. Were the former, how¬
ever, to add to his scientific researches the observations
to which the latter are indebted for their judgment of
the weather, he would soon be far superior to them in
79 this respect.
Kirwan's J)r Kirwan has lately endeavoured to discover pro-
conclusions jja^je rujes for prognosticating the weather in different
seasons, as far as regards this climate, from tables of
observation alone } and from comparing a number of
these observations made in England, from 1677 to 1789,
he found,
1. That when there has been no storm before or af¬
ter the vernal equinox, the ensuing summer is general¬
ly dry, at least five times in six.
2. That when a storm happens from an easterly
point, either on the 19th, 20th, or 21st of May,
the succeeding summer is generally dry four times in
five.
3. That when a storm arises on the 26th, 27th, or
29th of May (and not before), in any point, the suc¬
ceeding summer is generally di'y four times in five.
4. If there be a storm at south-west or west-south¬
west on the 19th, 20th, 21st, or 22d of March, the
succeeding summer is generally wet five times in six.
In this country winters and springs, if dry, are most
commonly cold ; if moist, warm : on the contrary, dry
summers and autumns are usually hot, and moist summers
cold. So that if we know the moistness or dryness of
a season, we can judge pretty accurately of its tempera¬
ture. '
From a table of the weather kept by Dr Rutty, in
Dublin, for 41 years, Dr Kirwan endeavoured to cal¬
culate the probabilities of particular seasons being fol¬
lowed by others. Though his rules relate chiefly to
the climate of Ireland, yet as probably there is not
much difference between that island and Britain, in the
general appearance of the seaons, we shall mention his
conclusions here.
In 41 years there were six wret springs, 22 dry, and
13 variable j 20 wet summers, 16 dry, and five varia-
on the wea
ther
Chap. VI.
ble ; II wet autumns, II dry, and 19 variable. A Weather,
season according to Dr Kirwan, is counted wet, when u—
it contains two wet months. In general, the quantity
of rain which falls in dry seasons is less than five inches
in wet seasons more. Variable seasons are those in which
there falls between 30 and 36 pounds, a pound being
equal to .157637 of an inch. 8o
The order in which the different seasons succeeded Probable
each other, was as in the following table.
succession
of seasons.
V dry spring
A. wet spring
A variable spring
A dry
summer
A wet summer
A variable summer
A dry spring and dry
summer
{
{
{
{
1
1
1
A. dry spring and wet V
1;
A wet spring and dry C
summer
A w-et spring and wet
A wet spring and
viable summer
A dry spring and
viable summer
A variable spring and
dry summer
{
va-f
{
A variable spring and C
wet summer x
A variable springand C
variable summer x
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
dry
wet
variable
r>i
hi!
Times
S'roba-
biiitv
<1
3
o
5
1
5
7
1
5
5
6
5
3
12
1
3
1
3
4
4
2
o
6
o
o
o
2
I
■2
1
O
o
o
2
1
2
O
2
I
I
5
o
l
s
s
x
IT
5
tt
7
TT
I
IT
5
To
5
To
iTo
x 2
To
X
s
f
TT
4
TT
2
?
o
6
T
.0
O
o
s
2
T
x
TT
O
O
TT
O
Sr
Hence Dr Kirwan deduced the probability of the Rules for
kind of seasons which would follow others. This pro-Pro£nos^*'
bability is expressed in tbe last column of the table, and
is to be understood in this manner. The probability
that
Chap.
Weather
Sa
Signs of
:ain from
jirds.
VI. METE
that a dry summer tvill follow a dry spring is 44
J a wet summer will follow a dry spring, j that a va¬
riable summer will follow a dry spring. and so on.
This method of Dr Kirwan, if there is such a con¬
nexion between the dift'ercnt seasons that a particular
kind of weather in one has a tendency to produce a par¬
ticular kind of weather in the next, as it is reasonable
to expect from theory, may in time, by multiplying ob¬
servations, come to a great degree of accuracy, and
may at last, perhaps, lead to that great desideratum,
a rational theory of the weather. As we wish to throw
as much light as possible on this important subject, we
shall add to these a few maxims, the truth of which
has either been confirmed by long observation, or
which the knowledge we have already acquired of the
causes of the weather has established on tolerably good
grounds.
1. A moist autumn with a mild winter is generally
followed by a cold and dry spring, which greatly retards
vegetation. Such was the year 1741.
2. If the summer be remarkably rainy, it is proba¬
ble that the ensuing winter will be severe } for the un¬
usual evaporation will have carried oft the heat of the
earth. Wet summers are generally attended with an
unusual quantity of seed on the white thorn and dog-
rose hushes. Hence the unusual fruitfulness of these
shrubs, is a sign of a severe winter.
3. The appearance of cranes and birds of passage
early in autumn announces a very severe winter 5 for
it is a sign it has already begun in the northern
countries.
4. When it rains plentifully in May, it will rain but
little in September, and vice versa.
5. When the wind is south-west during summer or
autumn, and the temperature of the air unusually cold
for the season, both to the feeling and the thermo¬
meter, with a low barometer, much rain is to be ex¬
pected.
6. Violent temperatures, as storms or great rains,
produce a sort of crisis in the atmosphere, which pro¬
duces a constant temperature, good or bad, for some
months.
7. A rainy winter predicts a stexfil year : a severe au¬
tumn announces a windy winter.
To the above we shall add the following maxims,
drawm from observation, and with these shall conclude this
article.—Sea and fresh water-fowls, such as cormorants,
sea-gulls, muir-hens, &c. flying from sea, or the fresh
waters, to land, shew bad weather at hand : land
fowls flying to waters, and these shaking, washing, and
noisy, especially in the evening, denote the same }
geese, ducks, cats, &c. picking, shaking, washing,
and noisy ; rooks and crows in flocks, and suddenly
disappearing; pyes and jays in flocks, and very noisy j
the raven or hooded-crow crying in the morning, with
an interruption in their notes, or crows being very
clamorous at even } the heron, bittern, and swallow fly¬
ing low; birds forsaking their meat and flying to their
nests; poultry going to roost, or pigeons to their
dove-house j tame fowds grubbing in the dust, and
clapping their wings 5 small birds seeming to duck
and wash in the sand ; the late and early crowing ol
the cock, and clapping his wings ; the early singing
of wood-larks j the ear y chirping of sparrows ; the
early note of the chaffinch near houses j the dull ap-
O R O L O G Y. 731
that pearance of robin-redbreast near houses j peacocks and Weathir.
owls unusually clamorous. v——v——»
Sea and fresh-water fowls gathering in flocks to the S3
banks, and there sporting, especially in the morning j ^ ^ !:0!n
wild-geese flying high, and in flocks, and directing
their course eastward ; coots restless and clamorous 5
the hoopoe loud in his note j the king’s-fisher taking
to land ; rooks darting or shooting in the air, or
sporting on the banks of fresh waters ; and lastly, the
appearance of the malefigie at sea, is a certain forerun¬
ner of violent winds, and (early in the morning) de¬
notes horrible tempests at hand.
Halcyons, sea-ducks, &c. leaving the land and FairTwea-
flocking to the sea ; kites, herons, bitterns, and swal- t^C1',roni
lows flying high and loud in their notes j lapwings rest-
less and clamorous 5 sparrows after sunrise restless and
noisy; ravens, hawks, and kestrils (in the morning),
loud in their notes ; robin-redbreast mounted high,
and loud in his song ; larks soaring high, and loud in
their songs ; owls hooting with an easy and clear note ;
bats appearing early in the morning. 85
Asses braying more frequently than usual 3 hogsItain from
playing, scattering their food, or carrying straw inleasts,
their mouths 3 oxen snuffing the air, looking to the
south, while lying on their sides, or licking their
hoofs 3 cattle gasping for air at noon 3 calves run¬
ning violently and gamboling 3 deer, sheep, or goats,
leaping, fighting, or pushing; cats washing their face
and ears ; dogs eagerly scraping up earth 3 foxes bark¬
ing, or wolves howling 3 moles throwing up earth
more than usual 3 rats and mice more restless than
usual ; a grumbling noise in the belly of hounds. ^
. Worms crawling out of the earth in great abund- j3ajn from
ance 3 spiders falling from their webs; flies dull and insects,
restless ; ants hastening to their nests 3 bees hastening
home, and keeping close in their hives 3 frogs and
toads drawing nigh to houses 3 frogs croaking from
ditches 3 toads crying on eminences 3 gnats stinging
more tharr usual ; but, if gnats play in the open air, or
if hornets, wasjjs, and glow worms appear plentifully
in the evening, or if spiders webs are seen in the air, or
on the grass, or trees, these do all denote fair and warm
weather at hand. „
Sun rising dim or waterish 3 rising red with blackish j^a;n t-rom
beams mixed along with his rays 3 rising in a musty or the sun.
muddy colour 3 rising red and turning blackish 3 set¬
ting under a thick cloud 3 setting with a red sky in the
east.
j\T. _B. Sudden rains never last long 3 but when the
air grows thick by degrees, and the sun, moon, and
stars shine dimmer and dimmer, then it is like to rain
six hours usually. S8
Sun rising pale and setting red, with an iris; rising Wind from
large in surface; rising with a red sky in the north; set-ft10 slul*
ting of a bloody colour 3 setting pale, with one or more
dark circles, or accompanied with red streaks; seeming
concave or hollow 3 seeming divided, great storms ;
parhelia, or mock suns, never appear, but are followed
by tempests. g
Sun rising clear, having set clear the night before 3 pair wea-
rising while the clouds about him are driving to the ther from
west 3 rising with an iris around him 3 and that iris the SUJl*
wearing away equally on all sides, then expect fair and
settled weather 3 rising clear and not hot; setting in
red clouds, according to the old observation :
4 Z 2
The
METEOR
Weather.
9°
Rain from
the moon.
qt
Wind from
the moon.
. 92
Fair wea¬
ther from
the moon.
93
Weather
from the
stars.
.
Rain from
the clouds.
. 95
Wind from
the clouds.
96
Ram from
a rainbow.
The evening red and morning gray,
1$ the sure sign of a fair day.
Moon pale in colour, rain ; horns blunt at first rising,
rain ; horns blunt, at or within two or three days after
the change, denotes rain from that quarter; an iris with
a south wind, rain next day ; wind south third night
after change, rain next day; the wind south, and the
moon not seen before the fourth night, rain most of
that month ; full moon in April, new and full moon
in August, for most part bi'ing rain ; mock moons are
the forerunners of great rains, land floods, and inunda¬
tions.
Moon seeming greatly enlarged: appearing of a red
colour; horns sharp and blackish ; if included with a
clear and ruddy iris ; if the iris be double or seem to
be broken in parts, tempests.
N. B. On the new moon, the wind for the most part
changes.
When the moon, at four days old, has her horns
sharp, she foretels a tempest at sea, unless she has a
circle about her, and that too entire, because, by that
she shows that it is not like to be bad weather’, till it is
full moon.
Moon seeming to exhibit bright spots : a clear iris
with full moon ; horns sharp fourth day, fair till full;
horns blunt at first rising, or within two or three days
after change, denotes rain for that quarter ; but fair
weather the other three quarters. Moon clear three
days after change and before full, always denotes fair
weather; after every change and full, rains for the
most p^rt, succeeded by fair settled weather ; moon
clear and bright, always fair weather.
Stars seeming large, dull, and pale of colour, rain ;
or when their twinkling is not perceptible, or if encom¬
passed with an iris. In summer, when the wind is at
east, and stars seem greater than usual, then expect
sudden rain , stars appearing great in number, yet clear
and bright, seeming to shoot or dart, denote fair weather
in summer, and in winter frost.
In cloudy weather, when the wind falls, rain fol¬
lows ; clouds growing bigger, or seeming like rocks or
towers settling on tops of mountains , coming from the
south, or often changing their course ; many in number
at north-west in the even ; being black in colour from
the east, rain at night; but out of the wrest, rain next
day; being like fleece of wool, from the east, rain for
two or three days; lying like ridges about mid-day in
the south-west, shews great storms both of wind and
rain to be nigh. Clouds flying to and fro ; appearing
suddenly from the south or west; appearing red, or ac¬
companied with redness in the air, especially in the
morning; being of a leadish colour in the north-west;
single clouds denote wind from whence they come ; but
if at sunset, clouds appear with golden edges, or di¬
minish in bulk, or small clouds sink low, or draw
against the wind, or appear small, white, and scattered
in the north-west (such as are vulgarly called macke¬
rel) when the sun is high, these are signs of fair
weather.
N. B. It is often observed, that though the mackerel
sky denotes fair weather for that day, yet for the most
part, rain follows in a day or two after.
After a long drought, the rainbow denotes sudden
and heavy rains; if green be the predominant colour, it
O L O G \. Cliap. VI.
denotes rain, but if red, wind with rain ; if the clouds Weather
grow darker, rain ; if the bow seems broken, violent
storms; if appearing at noon, much rain ; if in the
west great rain, with thunder.
N. B. It is observed, that if the last week in Fe¬
bruary, and the first fortnight of March, be mostly
rainy, and attended with frequent appearances of the
bow, a wet spring and summer may be expected.
The rainbow appearing after rains, denotes fair wea-Fair wea¬
ther at hand, if the colours grow lighter, fair; if thet*lcrfro"1
bow suddenly disappears, fair ; if the bow appear in the raui'
morning, it is the sign of small rains, followed by fair °VV'
weather ; and if appearing at night, fair weather; if
appearing in the east in the evening, fair; if the bow
appear double, it denotes fair weather at present but
rain in a few days; if in autumn, it continues fair for
two days after the appearance of the aurora borealis,
expect fair weather for at least eight days more.
If mists be attracted to the tops of hills then expect RaiiHront
rain in a day or two; if, in dry weather, they be ob-mists,
served to ascend more than usual, then expect sudden
rain ; mists in the new moon foreshew rain in the old ;
mists also in the old moon denote rain to happen in the
new; a misty white scare, in a clear sky in the south¬
east, is always a forerunner of rain.
It mists dissipate quickly, or descend after rain, it is Fair^vea-
a sure sign of fair weather ; a general mist before sun- ther from
rising near the full moon, denotes fair weather for aboutmists*
a fortnight running. If after sunset or before sunrise,
a white mist arise from the waters and meads, it denotes
warm and fair weather next day. A misty dew on the
inside of glass windows shows fair weather for that
day.
Mood swelling, or stones seeming to sweat; lute or Rain from
viol strings breaking; printed canvas or pasted maps inanimate
relaxing; salt becoming moist; rivers sinking, or floods
suddenly abating ; remarkable halo about the candle ;
great dryness of the earth ; pools seeming troubled or
muddy ; yellow scum on the surface of stagnant waters ;
dandelion or pimpernel shutting up ; trefoil swelling in
stalk, while the leaves bow dowm.
N. B. A dry spring is always attended with a rainy
winter. lot
Wind shifting to the opposite point; sea calm, with Wind from
a murmuring noise ; a murmuring noise from the woodsinailiniate
and rocks when the air is calm ; leaves and feathers'Jodies'
seeming much agitated ; tides high when the ther¬
mometer is high; ti’embling or flexuous burning of
flames ; coal burning white with a murmuring noise ;
thunder in the morning with a clear sky; thunder from
the north.
N. B. Whensoever the wind begins to shift, it will
not rest till it come to the opposite point; and if the
wind be in the north, it will be cold; if in the north¬
east colder ; if in the south ; it brings rain ; but if in
the south-west more rain. I02
The sudden closing of gaps in the earth ; the remark- Signs of
able rising of springs or rivers ; if the rain begins an rain cen-
hour or two before sunrise it is like to be fair eresinS‘
noon; but if an hour or two after sunrise, it for the
most part happens to continue all day and then to
cease; when it begins to rain from the south with a
high wind for two or three hours, and that the wind
falls, and it still continues raining, it is then like to
continue for i 2 hours or more, and then to cease.
N. B.
104
Jigns of
ifl.
I0S
gns of
under.
106
ps of
Id and
; )sty wea-
er.
107
ps of
VI. METEOR
N. l liese long rains seldom hold above 24 hours,
or happen above once a-year.
A hasty shower after raging winds is a sure sign of
the storm being near an end. If the .water ruckles and
frequent bubbles arise, or if the halcyon or king’s-fisher
attempts the sea while the storm lasts, or moles come
out ol their holes, or sparrows chirp merrily, these are
all certain signs of the storm ceasing.
Both sea and fresh-water fishes by their frequent ri¬
sing and fluttering on the surface of the water, foretel
the storm nigh over, but especially dolphins spouting up
water in a storm foretel a calm.
N. B. Let the wind he in what quarter it will, upon
the new moon, it presently changes.
Clouds white, inclining to yellow, and moving
heavily though the wind be high, is a sure sign of hail;
if the eastern sky before sunrise be pale, and refracted
rays appear in thick clouds, then expect great storms of
hail : white clouds in summer are a sign of hail, but in
winter they denote snow, especially when we perceive
the air to be a little warm ; in spring or winter, when
clouds appear of blueish white, and expand much, ex¬
pect small hail or drizzling, which properly is no other
than frozen mists.
Meteors shooting in the summer’s evening, or chops
and clefts in the earth, when the weather is sultry,
always foretel thunder is nigh •, in summer or harvest,
when the wind has been south two or three days, and
the thermometer high, and clouds rise with great white
tops like towers, as if one were upon the top of another,
and joined with black on the nether side, expect rain
and thunder suddenly j if two such clouds arise, one on
either hand, it is then time to look for shelter, as the
thunder is very nigh.
N. B. It is observed that it thunders most with a
south wind, and least with an east.
Sea-pyes, starlings, fieldfares, with other migratory
birds appearing early denote a cold season to ensue ;
the early appearance of small birds in flocks, and of
robin-redbreasts near houses ; sun in harvest setting
in a mist or broader than usual ; moon bright, with
sharp horns, after change 5 wind shifting to the east or
north after change , sky full of twinkling stars 5 small
clouds hovering low in the north ; snow falling small,
while clouds appear on heaps like rocks.
JSf. B. Frosts in autumn are always succeeded with
rain.
Snow falling in large flakes while the wind is at
south 5 cracks appearing in the ice ; sun looking water-
ish ; the moon’s horns blunted } stars looking dull 5
wind turning to the south j wind extremely shifting. It
is also observed, that, if October and November be
frost and snow, January and February are like to be
open and mild.
O L O G Y. 733
Fair weather for a week together, while the wind is Weather,
all that time in the south, is for the most part, follow-v—
ed by a great drought ; if February be for most rainy, ^oSj.
spring and summer quarters are like to he so too 5 but if^roucht
it happen to be altogether fair, then expect a drought
to follow ; if lightning follow after 24 hours of dry and
fair weather, drought will follow, but if within 24 hours,
expect great rains. 109
A moist and cold summer, and mild autumn, are Signs of a
sure signs of a hard and severe winter : store of hips*lal(* v“n~
and haws denote the same; the hazel-tree flowering is
ever observed to foretel the same 5 acorns found
without any insect is a sure prognostic of a hard win-
^er* . . . 110
A dry and cold winter with a southerly wind : Signs of
very rainy spring, sickness in summer ; if summer be pestilential
dry with the wind northerly, great sickness is like toseasons'
follow ; great heats in spring time without winds 5 roots
having a luscious taste, while the wind has been long’
southerly without rain j and, lastly, great quantities of
stinking atoms, insects or animals, as flies, frogs, snakes,
locusts, &.c. IIt
Inclose the leech worm in an eight ounce phial glass, Experi-
three-fourths tilled with water, covered with a bit ofluellts
linen j let the water be changed once a-week in sum-1*10 lccc*1,
mer, and once a fortnight in winter.
If the leech lies motionless at the bottom in a spiral
form, fair weather 5 if crept to the top rain; if rest¬
less, wind ; if very restless, and without the water,
thunder ; if in winter at bottom, frost; but if in the
winter it pitches its dwelling on the mouth of the phial,
snow. See Helminthology (f). II2
In calm weather, when the air is inclined to rain, Signs of the
the mercury is low 5 but when tending to fair, it will weather
rise j in very hot weather when falling, it foreshews[rom ^ie
thunder j if rising in winter, frost j but if falling iji rometer'
frost, thaw ^ if rising in a continued frost, snow 5 if foul
weather quickly on its falling, soon over j if fair wea¬
ther quickly on its rising, soon over ; also if rising high
in foul weather, and so continuing for two or three
days, before the foul weather is over, then expect a
continuance of fair weather; but, if in fair weather the
mercury fall low, and so continue for two or three
days, then expect much rain, and probably high
winds.
N. B. In an east wind, the mercury always rises and
falls lowest before great winds *. sort^Jour
It was intended to insert in this article a summary Feb.
view of the opinions of Toaldo, Cotte, and Lamarck, 1804,
respecting the influence of the moon in producing?- 14f)‘
changes in our atmosphere j but peculiar circumstances
render it necessary to postpone this view till we come to
the article Moon. See articles, Climate, Dew, Hy-
GROMETRY, METEOROLOGY, in the SUPPLEMENT.
(f) In compliance with the writer of this paper, we have retained this passage on the leech ; though, as we
stated, when treating of the Hirudo medtcinalis, in Helminthology, we are very sceptical respecting the wea-
ther-judging faculties of that worm.
INDEX,
t 734 ]
INDEX.
A.
J^TMOSPHEliE, density of, least at the
equator, and greatest at
the poles, N° 13
weight of, the same all over
the globe, ib.
forms two inclined planes,
meeting at the equator, ib,
in the northern hemisphere
less inclined in our sum¬
mer, and v. v. ib.
August, the warmest month in the sou¬
thern latitudes, 16
B.
Haromcter, stands highest at the level
of the sea, 8
medium height there, 30
inches, 9
varies very little in the tor¬
rid zone, 10
tropical daily variation cor¬
responds to the tides, ib.
table of the range of, ib.
range of, much less in N.
America, ib.
seems to have a tendency to
rise towards evening, ib.
* range of, greater in winter, 11
high in serene weather, and
on the approach of easter¬
ly and northerly winds, ib.
low in calm weather, on the
approach of rain, high
winds, or with a souther¬
ly wind, ib.
axioms, on, by Cotte, 12
variation of, accounted for, 13
why highest in winter in
northern latitudes, 14
whether affected by the sun
and moon, ib.
C.
Capper the winds, 6
Clouds, always form at some height
above the earth, 33
theory of, uncertain, 34
Congelation, perpetual term of, 18
tables of, P* 7*5
Cotters writings on meteorology, N° 6
axioms on the barometer, 12
on the thermometer, 24
Currents of air, different, in the atmo¬
sphere at once, 2 3
D.
Dalton's writings on meteorology, 6
table of the quantity of vapour
at various temperatures, p. 715
and Hoyle’s experiments on
evaporation, N° 29
Drought, signs of,
N° 108
E.
K°
Evaporation, confined to the surface, 26
proportional to the tem¬
perature of the air, 27
rate of, how estimated, p.715
goes on continually, 716
mean annual, at Liver¬
pool, ib.
over the globe, N° 31
from land, 28
experiments on, by Dal¬
ton and Hoyle, 29
may go on for a mouth
together without rain, 34
Falling star probably of an electrical
origin, 76
analogous to the aurora borealis, ib.
H.
Hail, signs of, 104
Howard's (Luke) writings on meteo¬
rology, 6
remarks on the influence of
the sun and moon on the
barometer, 14
Hjgrometcr, Leslie’s, described, 38
I.
January, the coldest month in all lati¬
tudes, 16
Ignis fatuus, probably a phosphoric
phenomenon, 77
July, the warmest month in northern
latitudes, 16
K.
Kir wan's writings on meteorology, 6
mode of calculating the mean
annual and monthly tempe¬
rature ofthe air, p.71 o,note
(D),andp 7ii,note (e.)
mode of estimating the rate
of diminution of the air’s
temperature, 17
conclusions on the weather, 70
L.
Lamarck's writings on meteorology, 6
Leech, experiments with, as to its pow¬
ers of prognosticating the wea-
•ther, in
Leslie's hygrometer described, 38
explained, 39
Luc, de, vindicated from the charge of
plagiarism, p. 706, note (a)
M.
Meteors, 7;
Meteorology, object of, 1
connection of with che¬
mistry, 2
still in its infancy, 3
Meteorology, means of improving,
importance of,
writers on,
division of,
Monsoons,
direction of,
Moon, effect of, on the barometer,
Morgan's remarks on the falling star,
R.
Rain never begins in a clear sky,
theory of, uncertain,
mean annual quantity of, greatest
at the equator,
in GreatBritain, 3
falls most in the day, 31I
proportional quantity in different
months, ill
often most frequent in winter, 31
signs of from birds, '81
from beasts, 8
from insects, 8
from the sun, 8
from the moon,
from the clouds,
from a rainbow,
from mists,
from inanimate bodies, 10
signs of its ceasing, 10
s.
Saussure's writings on meteorology 1
Seasons, probable succession of, 7
pestilential, signs of, n j
T.
Temperature of the atmosphere tends
towards a mean in all
climates, p, 711
mean annual, greatest at
the equator, N° I
table of, if
how calculated, p. 710,
note (d),
mean monthly table of, p.71
how calculated, ib. note (E)
ofthe air diminishes as we
ascend above the earth,
N° r
diminishes in arithmeti¬
cal progression, I;
owing to the air’s con¬
ducting power, if
of the north pacific 0-
2<
of the southern hemi¬
sphere,
of small seas,
of North America,
of islands,
of open plains,
of woody countries,
2
2:
il
2
i!
it]
Thau
tidex.
'haw, signs of, N° loj
'hermometer, axioms on, by Cotte, 24
'Joinder, signs of, ^ 105
apour, qualities of, 25
quantity of, raised at various
temperatures, table of, p. 715
state of, in the air unknown, N° 24
w.
Veathcr, conclusions respecting, by Kir-
wan, 79
rules for prognosticating, 81
fair, signs of from birds, 84
from the sun, 89
from the moon, 92
from the rainbow, 97
from mists, 99
from the stars, 93
signs of, from the barometer, 112
(cold and frosty, signs of, 106
rilliams>s hints for improving meteo-
1 rology, _ _ _ 4
workonthe climate of Britain, 6
METEOROLOGY,
Triads, history of, N° 40—63
trade 41
how produced, 68
tropical, 42
direction of, 43
sea and land breezes, 45
in Bornou and Fezzan, ib.
in Abyssinia, 46
at Calcutta, 47
in the temperate zones, 48
in Virginia and N. America, 49
in South America, ib.
in Egypt, 50
in the Mediterranean, 51
in Syria, 52
in Italy, 53
in France, 54
in Germany, 55
at London, 56
at Lancaster, 57
at Dumfries, ^8
near Glasgow, 59
in Britain, table of, p. 723
735
TFinds, in Ireland, N° 60
at Copenhagen and in Russia, 61
at the Cape of Good Hope, 62
in the Pacific, 63
theory of, 64—72
velocity of, extremely variable,
table of, 65
produced bv disturbing the e-
quilibrium of the air, ib.
south-west, very common after
aurorae boreales, 70
probable causes of, 71
commonly begins at the place
towards which it blows, 72
partial, 74
Triad, signs of from birds, 83
from the sun, 88
from the moon, 91
from the clouds, 95
from inanimate bodies, 101
ceasing, signs of, 103
Winter, hard, signs of, 109
MET
leteoro-
mancy
I n.
ethodists.
METEOROMANCY, a species of divination by
meteors, principally by lightning and thunder. This
method of divination passed from the Tuscans to the
Romans, with whom, as Seneca informs us, it was held
in high esteem.
METESSIB, an officer of the eastern nations, who
lias the care and oversight of all the public weights and
measures, and sees that things are made justly accord¬
ing to them.
METHEGLIN, a species of mead; one of the most
pleasant and general drinks which the northern parts
of Europe afford, and much used among the ancient in¬
habitants: (See Mead). The word is Welsh, med-
dyglin, where it signifies the same.—There are divers
ways of making it; one of the best whereof follows:
Put as much new honey, naturally running from the
comb, into spring water, as that when the honey is
thoroughly dissolved an egg will not sink to the hot
tom, but just be suspended in it; boil this liquor for
an hour or more, till such time as the egg swim above
the liquor about the breadth of a groat; when very
cool, next morning it may be barrelled up; adding to
each 15 gallons an ounce of ginger, as much of mace
and cloves, and half as much cinnamon, all grossly
pounded; a spoonful of yeast may be also added at
the bung hole to promote the fermentation. When
it has done working, it maybe closely stopped up ; and
after it has stood a month, it should be drawn off into
bottles.
METHOD, the arrangement of mtr ideas in such
a regular order, that their mutual connexion and de¬
pendence may be readily comprehended. See Logic,
part iv.
METHODISTS, in ecclesiastical history, is a de¬
nomination applied to different sects, both Papists and
Protestants.
I. The Popish Methodists were those polemical doc-
2
MET
tors, of whom the most eminent arose in France to-Methodists.
wards the middle of the 17th century, in opposition  v"",m*
to the Huguenots or Protestants. Those Methodists,
from their different manner of treating the controver¬
sy with their opponents, may be divided into two
classes. The one may comprehend those doctorSj
whose method of disputing with the Protestants was
disingenuous and unreasonable, and who followed the
examples of those military chiefs, who shut up their
troops in intrenchments and strong holds, in order to
cover them from the attacks of the enemy. Of this
number were the Jesuit Veron, who required the Pro¬
testants to prove the tenets of their church by plain
passages of scripture, without being allowed the liber¬
ty of illustrating those passages, reasoning upon themr
or drawing any conclusions from them ; Nihusius, an
apostate from the Protestant religion ; the two Wa-
lenburgs, and others, who confined themselves to the
business of answering objections and repelling attacks ;
and Cardinal Richelieu, who confined the whole con¬
troversy to the single article of the divine institution
and authority of the church. The Methodists of the
second class were of opinion, that the most expedient
manner of reducing the Protestants to silence, was not
to attack them by piecemeal, but to overwhelm them
at once, by the weight of some general principle or
presumption, some universal argument, which compre¬
hended or might be applied to all the points contested
between the two churches : thus imitating the con¬
duct of those military leaders who, instead of spending
their time and strength in sieges and skirmishes, en¬
deavoured to put an end to the war by a general and
decisive action. These polemics rested the defence of
Popery upon prescription ; the wicked lives of Pro¬
testant princes who had left the church of Rome ; the
crime of religious schism; the variety of opinions
among Protestants with regard to doctrine and disci¬
pline }
M E T [ 736 ] M E T
Methodists, pline 5 and the uniformity of the tenets and worship of
the church of Rome. To this class belong Nicolle the
Jansenist doctor, the famous Bossuet, &c.
II. The Protestant Methodists form a very consider¬
able body in this country. The sect was founded in
the year 1729 by one Mr Morgan and Mr John Wes¬
ley. In the month of November that year, the latter
being then fellow of Lincoln college, began to spend
some evenings in reading the Greek New Testament,
along with Charles Wesley student, Mr Morgan com¬
moner of Christ church, and Mr Kirk ham of Merton
college. Next year two or three of the pupils of Mr
John Wesley, and one pupil of Mr Charles Wesley ob¬
tained leave to attend these meetings. Two years af¬
ter they were joined by Mr Ingham of Queen’s col¬
lege, Mr Broughton of Exeter, and Mr James Her-
vey ; and in 1735 they were joined by the celebrated
Mr Whitefield, then in his 18th year.
At this time it is said that the whole kingdom of
England was tending fast to infidelity. “ It is come
(says Bishop Butler), I know not how, to be taken
for granted by many persons, that Christianity is not
so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at
length discovered to be fictitious j and accordingly
they treat it as if in the present age this were an
agreement among all people of discernment, and no¬
thing remained but to set it up as a principal subject
of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals,
for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the
world.” The Methodists are-said, with great proba¬
bility, to have been very instrumental in stemming
this torrent. They obtained their name from the
exact regularity ol their lives j which gave occasion
to a young gentleman of Christ church to say, “ Here
is a new set of Methodists sprung up j” alluding to a
sect of ancient physicians which went by that name.
This extreme regularity, however, soon brought a charge
against them, perhaps not altogether without foundation,
of being too scrupulous, and carrying their sanctity to
too great a height. In particular it was urged, that
they laid too much stress upon the rubrics and canons
of the church, insisted too much on observing the rules
ol the university, and took the scriptures in too literal
a sense ; and to the name ol Methodists two others were
quickly added, viz. those of Sacramentariam and the
Godly Club.
The principal person in this club while in its infan¬
cy appears to have been Mr Morgan, and next to him
Mr John Wesley. They visited the sick, and institut¬
ed a fund for the relief of the poor ; and the better
to accomplish their benevolent designs, Mr Wesley
abridged himself of all his superlluities, and even of
some of the necessaries of life *, and by proposing the
scheme to some gentlemen, they quickly increased
their funds to Sol. per annum. This, which one should
have thought would have been attended with praise
instead of censure, quickly drew upon them a kind of
persecution ; some of the seniors of the university be¬
gan to interfere, and it was reported “ that the college
censors were going to blow up the Godly Club
f ^eep^s- They found themselves, however,- patronised and en-
couraged by some men eminent for their learning and
virtue 5 so that the society still continued, though they
had suffered a severe loss in 1730 in the death of Mr
Morgan, who had indeed been the founder of it. In
the month of October 1735, John and Charles Wes¬
ley, Mr Ingham, and Mr JJdamotte son to a merchant
in London, embarked for Georgia along with Mr O-
glethorpe, afterwards General Oglethorpe. The de¬
sign of this voyage was to preach the gospel to the
Indians. By this time, however, it appears that Mr
Wesley had embraced such notions as may without
the least breach of charity be accounted fanatical.
Thus in a letter to his brother Samuel, he conjures
him to banish from his school “ the classics with their
poison,” and to introduce instead of them such Chri¬
stian authors as would work together with him in
“ building up his flock in the knowledge and love of
God.”
Method isft
During the voyage such a profusion of worship w'as
observed, as we cannot help thinking savoured more of
a Pharisaical than Christian behaviour ; an account of
which, as a similar strictness would certainly be incul¬
cated upon the disciples, and consequently must give a
just idea of the principles of the early Methodists, we
shall here transcribe from Mr Wesley’s life. “ From
four in the morning till five, each of us used private
prayer j from five to seven we read the Bible together,
carefully comparing it (that we might not lean to our
own understandings) with the writings of the earliest
ages ; at seven we breakfasted j at eight were the pub¬
lic prayers 5 from nine to twelve learned the lan¬
guages and instructed the children 5 at twelve we met
to give an account to one another what we had done
since our last meeting, and wdiat we designed to do be¬
fore our next; at one we dined ; the time from dinner
to four w'e spent in reading to those of whom each of
us had taken charge, or in speaking to them separate¬
ly as need required; at four were the evening prayers,
when either the second lesson was explained (as it al-
ivays -was in the morning), or the children were cate¬
chised and instructed before the congregation j from
five to six we again used private prayer j from six to
seven I read in our cabin to two or three of the pas¬
sengers, of wrhom there were about 80 English on
board, and each of my brethern to a few more in
theirs ; at seven I joined with the Germans in their
public service, while Mr Ingham was reading between
decks to as many as desired to hear ; at eight wre met
again, to instruct and exhort one another j between
nine and ten we went to bed, when neither the roar¬
ing of the sea nor the motion of the ship could take
away the refreshing sleep which God gave us.”
As they proceeded in their passage, this austerity
instead of being diminished was increased. Mr Wesley
discontinued the use of wine and flesh j confining him¬
self to vegetables, chiefly rice and biscuit. He ate no
supper j and his bed having been made wet by the
sea, he lay upon the floor, and slept soundly till morn¬
ing. In his Journal he says, “ I believe I shall not
find it needful to go to bed, as it is called, any more 5”
but whether this was really done or not, we cannot
say.
rlhe missionaries, after their arrival, were at first very
favourably received, but in a short time lost the affections
of the people entirely. This was owing to the behaviour
of Mr Wesley himself, who appeared not only capri¬
cious but frequently despotic. He particularly gave
oflence by insisting upon the baptism of children by
immersion 5 and his excessive austerity with regard to
himself
MET [ 737 ] MET
Vlethodists. himself did not tend to give his hearers any favourable
——V'—opinion either of the'superior sanctity or wisdom of their
teacher. At last, on account of a difference with Mr
Causton the storekeeper and chiefmagistrateofSavannah
which ended in a law-suit, he was obliged to return to
England.
Thus the cause of Methodism seemed to be entirely
lost in Georgia. But Mr Wesley was soon succeeded
by a more popular and successful champion, viz. Mr
George Whitefield $ who having spent his time during
the voyage in converting the soldiers with whom he
sailed, arrived at Savannah in Georgia on the 7th of
May 1738. Here he was received by Mr Delamotte,
was joined by several of Mr Wesley’s hearers, and be¬
came intimate with some other ministers. Mr Ingham
had made some progress in converting a few runaway
Creek Indians, who had a settlement about four miles
from Savannah ; but being obliged to return to Eng¬
land in a few months, this design wras frustrated, and
the Indians in a few years separated. During the
short time that Mr Whitefield resided at Savannah, he
became extremely popular 5 and indeed the instances
of his success in the way of making converts are veiy
surprising. However, he was obliged to return to
England in the autumn of that year, that he might
receive priests orders. On his return to America in
October 1739* he landed at Philadelphia, and instantly
began his spiritual labours as in other places 5 being
attended with astonishing success not only there but
wherever he went. Passing through the colonies of
Virginia, Maryland, North and South Carolina, the
number of converts continually increased j but on his ar¬
rival at Savannah, he found the colony almost deserted.
He now resumed the scheme he had formerly project¬
ed of building an Orphan-house ; and for this he made
the £rst collection at Charlestown in South Carolina,
amounting to about 70I. sterling. His zeal in the
cause of I'eligion, or of the colony, w’ere not, however,
sufficient to procure him the favour of those in power.
On his return to Philadelphia, after a short stay at Sa¬
vannah, the churches were denied him; but he was
made ample amends by the success which attended his
field preachings and private efforts. Beligious socie¬
ties were everywhere set up, and many were convert¬
ed with symptoms of enthusiasm, different according
to their various tempers and constitutions. During
this excursion, he was so successful in his collection for
the Orphan-house, that on his return to Savannah he
brought along with him money and provisions to the
value of 500I. sterling.
The success in Georgia was now greater than ever ;
but the many charities which it was necessary to sup¬
ply, I’endered it necessary in a short time for him to
undertake another journey to Charlestown. Here his
principles met with the greatest opposition. He had
lost the favour of the commissary by his field-preach¬
ing, and was denied the sacrament. The opposition,
however, was altogether fruitless j the number of con¬
verts increased wherever he went, and he now under¬
took a voyage to New England. In this place also
the established clergy were his enemies ; but the usual
success attended his other endeavours, and procured
500I. more for the use of the Orphans in Georgia.
From the year 1741 to 1743 America was deprived
of Mr Whitefield’s preaching, be having spent that
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
interval in England; but in 1744 lie again set out for Methodists,
the western continent. The remarkable success which 1—— v-
had hitherto attended his labours nowr stirred up many
opponents; and these had met with the greater suc¬
cess, as none of the Methodist preachers whom he
had left were possessed of such abilities either to gain
the favour of those who heard them, or to defend their
doctrines against objections. Mr Whitefield’s sucess,
however, was the same as before: he even found
means to inspire the military class with such sentiments
of devotion, that Colonel Fepperell could not under¬
take his expedition against Louisbourg without first
consulting Mr Whitefield ; and gi’eat numbers of New-
Englanders went volunteers, confident of victory, in
consequence of the discourses of their teacher.
From the continent of America Mr Whitefield
took a voyage to the Bermudas islands; and here, as
everywhere else, he met with the most surprising suc¬
cess. Here also collections were made for the Or¬
phan-house in Savannah, which were transmitted to
that place.
Supposing it to be better for his cause to visit dif¬
ferent countries, than to take up a permanent resi¬
dence in one, Mr Whitefield left Bermudas in a few
months, and did not return to America till 1751,
when the Orphan-house was found to be in a very
flourishing situation. After a short stay, he set sad
again for Britain. Here he remained two years, and
then set out on another visit to America, landing at
Charlestown on the 27th of May 1754. His presence
constantly revived the spirits and cause of his party,
and added to their numbers wherever he went. Next
year he returned to England ; but after labouring in
the usual manner, and meeting with the usual success
there till the year 1763, he set sail again for America,
and arrived at Virginia in the latter end of August. He
now visited all the colonies, and found that great pro¬
gress had been made in converting the Indians. On
his arrival at Georgia, matters were found in a very
flourishing situation, and he received the thanks of
the governor and principal people for the great bene¬
fit he had been to the colony ; which shows, that the
stories which had been so industriously propagated,
concerning the avarice of him and other Methodist
preachers, were, partly at least, unfounded. In 1765
he returned to England; and in 1769 made his se¬
venth and last voyage to America, landing at Charles¬
town on the 30th of November the same year. He
was still attended with the same success; and indeed
it is impossible to read, without admiration, on ac¬
count of the efforts made by himself and Mr Wesley,
to propagate their tenets in the different parts of the
world.
For a very considerable time Mr Whitefield was
the only Methodist who paid any attention to A-
merica; and in that ceuntry he was more popular
than even in Europe. Towards the end of his life,
several Methodists having emigrated from Britain,
formed distinct societies in New York and Philadel¬
phia. These quickly increased in number; and, about
the time that the war with Britain began, their num¬
bers amounted to about 3000 in Virginia, Maryland,
New York, and Pennsylvania. They would pro¬
bably have increased much more, had it not been for
the imprudence of some of their preachers, who intro-
5 A troduced
M E T [ y-
Mei-liodists. troduced politics into their tliscourses, and thus ren-
v—tiered themselves obnoxious to the people among whom
they lived. Among those who hurt the cause in this
manner was Mr Wesley himself, who, by writing a
piece entitled A Calm Address to the American Colo¬
nies, would in all probability have ruined it, had not a
gentleman, with whom he wras connected, destroyed or
sent back to England the whole impression as soon as
it arrived in America, so that its existence was scarce
known in that continent. At the conclusion ol the
war, Dr Coke, who in 1776 had left a curacy in Eng¬
land in order to join Mr Wesley, paid a visit to his
friends in America 5 though it had been imagined that
a total separation had taken place between the Ameri¬
can and European Methodists. This breach was, how¬
ever, made up by a manoeuvre of Mr Wesley 5 for no
sooner had the Americans obtained their independence,
than he, who had hitherto branded them with the name
of rebels, sent a congratulatory letter on their freedom
from the “ State and the Hierarchy,” and exhorting
them to “ stand fast in that liberty with which God had
so strangely made them free.” To show his zeal in
their service still farther, he gave ordination, by laying-
on of hands, to several preachers who were to embark
for America r and consecrated Dr Coke one of the bishops
of the Methodist Episcopal church in that country. He
extracted also from the liturgy of the English church
one for the American Methodists, taking particular
care to expunge every expression that had a particular
respect to the regal authority.
Such proceedings in one who had formerly profes¬
sed such extraordinary attachment to the English
church, could not but require an apology; and this
was accordingly made in a pastoral letter transmitted
to the American societies, and addressed “ to Dr
Coke, Mr Astbury, and our brethren in North Ame¬
rica.” In this letter he makes the following defence
of his conduct. “ Lord King’s account of the pri¬
mitive church convinced me, many years ago, that
bishops and presbyters are the same order, and con¬
sequently have the same right to ordain. For many
years I have been importuned, from time to time, to
exercise this right, by ordaining part of our travelling
preachers. But I have still refused, not only for the
sake of peace, but because I was determined, as little
as possible, to violate the established order of the na¬
tional church to which I belonged. But the case is
widely different between England and North Ameri¬
ca. Here there are bishops who have a legal juris¬
diction : in America there are none, neither any pa¬
rish ministers : so that for some hundred miles toge¬
ther, there is none either to baptize, or to administer
the Lord’s supper. Here, therefore, mv scruples are
at an end 5 and I conceive myself at full liberty, as I
violate no order, and invade no man’s right, by ap¬
pointing and sending labourers into the harvest. It
l>as indeed been proposed to desire the English bishops
to ordain part of our preachers for America 5 but to
this I object. I. I desired the bishop of London to
ordain only one, but could not prevail. 2. If they
consented, wre know the slowness of their proceed-
ings •, but the matter admits of no delay. 3. If they
„ would ordain them now, they would likewise expect
to govern them ; and how grievously would that en¬
tangle as. 4. As our American brethren are now to-
8 ] MET
tally disentangled, both from the state and the Eng-Methodists,
lish hierarchy, we dare not entangle them again either —y'—J
with the one or the other. They are now at full li¬
berty simply to follow the scripture and the primitive
church j and we judge it best, that they should stand
fast in that liberty wherewith God has so strangely
made them free.”
Dr Coke, on the consecration of Mr Astbury to the
office of a bishop, made another apology. “ The church
of England (says he), of which the society of Me¬
thodists in general have till lately professed themselves
a part, did for many years groan in America under
grievances of the heaviest kind. Subjected to a hierar¬
chy which weighs evex-y thing in the scale of politics,
its most important interests were repeatedly sacrificed to
the supposed advantages of England. The churches
were in general fdled with the parasites and bottle-com¬
panions of the rich and great. The humble and most
importunate entreaties of the oppressed flocks, yea the
representations of a general assembly itself, were con¬
temned and despised. Every thing sacred must bow
down at the feet of a party j the holiness and happiness
of mankind be sacx-ificed to their views j and the drunk¬
ard, the fornicator, and the extortioner, triumphed over
bleeding Zion, because they were faithful abettox-s of
the ruling powers. The memorable revolution has
struck off these intolerable fetters, and broken the anti-
christian union which before subsisted between church
and state. And had there been no other advantage
arising from that glorious epoch, this itself, I believe,
would have made ample compensation for all the cala¬
mities of the war ; one happy consequence of which was
the expulsion of most of those hirelings, who “ ate the
fat, and clothed themselves with the wool, but strength¬
ened not the diseased,” &c. The parochial churches
in general being hei'eby vacant, our people were de¬
prived of the sacraments through the greatest part of
these states, and continue so still. W hat method can
we take in so critical a juncture ? God has given us
sufficient resources in ourselves j and, after mature
deliberation, we believe that we are called to draw
them forth.
“ But what right have you to ordain ?” The same
right as most of the churches in Christendom } our or¬
dination, in its lowest view, being equal to any of the
pi-esbyterian, as originating with three presbyters of
the church of England. “ But what right have you
to exercise the episcopal office ?” To me the most
manifest and clear. God has been pleased to raise up,
by Mr Wesley, in America and Ein-ope, a numerous
society well known by the name of Methodists. The
whole body have invariably esteemed this man as their
chief pastor under Christ. He has constantly appoint¬
ed all their religious officers from the highest to the
lowest, by himself or his delegate. And we are fully
persuaded there is no church office which he judges
expedient for the welfare of the people entrusted to his
charge, but, as essential to his station, he has power to
ordain. “ But, do not you break the succession ?”
The uninterrupted succession of bishops is a point that
has long been given up by the most able Protestant de¬
fenders of episcopacy. Bishop Hoadley himself, in bis
celebrated controversy with DrCalamy, allows it to be
unnecessary. His words are, ‘ To the 13th question I
answer, that I think not an uninterrupted line of suc¬
cession
MET • [ 739 ] MET
Methodists, cession of regularly ordained bishops necessary.1 He al-
—' v so grants the authenticity of the anecdote given us by
St Jerome, which informs us, that the church of Alex¬
andria had no regular succession from the time of St
Mark the evangelist, the first bishop of that church, to
the time of Dionysius, a space of 200 years 5 but the
college of presbyters, on the death of a bishop, elected
another in his stead. We are also informed, from the
epistle of St Clement to the Corinthians, written soon
after the death of St Paul, a writer whose works are
next in precedence to the canon of scripture, and pro¬
bably written by immediate inspiration, that the church
of Corinth was then governed only by a college of
presbyters. And from the epistle of Polycarp to the
church of Philippi, written in 116, we also find that the
Christian Philippians were then governed only by a
college of presbyters. So that the primitive Christians
were so far from esteeming the regular succession
as essential to the constitution of a Christian church,
that, in some instances, episcopacy itself was wholly
omitted.
Such was the defence urged by Mr Wesley for this
extraordinary assumption of episcopal powers : a con¬
duct, however, of which he afterwards repented, as
tending to make a final separation betwixt his fol¬
lowers and the church of England. Yet it does not
appear that this had any bad effect on the minds of
his American brethren ; for Dr Coke, on his arrival
on the western continent, found the societies numerous
and flourishing. His first effoi’ts ’were directed against
the slave trade 5 and not only the abolition of that
traffic, but the release of all those who were actually
slaves at the time, seem to have been his favourite ob¬
jects. By interfering in this matter, however, per¬
haps with too much zeal, he involved himself in dan¬
ger. Some riots took place, and a lady offered the
mob 50 guineas if they would give the Doctor 100
lashes. This piece of discipline would have been in¬
flicted, had it not been for the interposition of a sturdy
colonel ; and the Doctor had not only the satisfaction
of escaping the intended punishment, but of seeing his
doctrine so far attended to, that some slaves were eman¬
cipated.
MrHampson, in his Memoirs of Mr Wesley, observes,
that “ the colonists, in the infancy of Methodism, con¬
ducted themselves with more propriety than the Eng¬
lish. There was little or no persecution, nor any thing
like a riot, except in one or two instances which have
been mentioned as the consequence of the animadver¬
sions on slavery 5 and even these were productive of no
mischief. Not a creature was materially injured 5 no
bones were broken, nor any lives lost j which was not
the case in this country. Here many thousands of in¬
nocent people were subjected to the grossest indignities,
and several wrere eventually sacrificed to the fury of
their persecutors.
“ While we commend the Americans for their be¬
haviour in opposition to the brutality of English mobs,
it may be proper to inquire into the sources of this
distinction. Something of this may have arisen from
similarity of sentiment. The Americans, from the first
beginnings of colonization, had been accustomed to
the doctrines of the old puritans and nonconformists,
'which in many respects have a near affinity to the Me-
thodistic tenets. The origin of Methodism in Ame¬
rica was seldom, if ever, attended, either under the Methodists,
discourses of Mr Whitefield’s or Mr Wesley’s preach-'' "-'v ■
ers, with those ridiculous effects with which it was ac¬
companied in these kingdoms. Most of the preachers,
who went over to the continent, having laboured for
some years in Europe previous to their having crossed
the water, had exhausted their wildfire ; so that their
discourses were more scriptural and rational than those
of the primitive Methodists. Another reason may be
found in the education of the Americans. As a people,
they are better cultivated than the body of the English j'
they arc chiefly composed of merchants and a respectable
yeomanry : and there is but a small proportion of that
class, so superabundant here, which we distinguish by
the name oi mob.
“ The only exception we have heard, to their ex¬
emption from the extravagancies which in this coun¬
try marked the infancy of Methodism, is a custom
they have introduced in Maryland and Virginia. Fre¬
quently, at the conclusion of a sermon, the whole
congregation began to pray and to praise God aloud.
The uproar which this must create may easily be con¬
ceived. Some wTe are told, are great admirers of this
species of enthusiasm, in which every man is his own
minister, and one sings and another prays, with the
most discordant devotion. But we will not dignify
such indecency with such a name. Its proper appel¬
lation is fanaticism. We hope, that, for the future,
religion will never appear in this country under so
odious a form 5 and greatly is it to be lamented, that,
among the friends of Christianity, any such absurdi¬
ties should arise, to furnish infidels with occasions of
triumph.”
Our author informs us, that the occupation of the
Methodist preachers in America wras very laborious.
In the course of the day they frequently rode 20 or
30 miles, preaching twice or thrice, and sometimes
to considerable congregations. Notwithstanding this
labour, however, few or none of them ever thought
of returning to Britain. Several reasons may be as¬
signed for the pleasure they took in this laborious ex¬
ercise. “ Their excursions (says Mr Hampson) through
immense forests abounding in trees of all sorts and
sizes, were often highly romantic. Innumerable ri¬
vers and falls of water ; vistas opening to the view,
in contrast with the uncultivated wild ; deer now shoot¬
ing across the road, and now scouring through the
woods, while the eye was frequently relieved by the
appearance of orchards and plantations, and the houses
of gentlemen and farmers peeping through the trees j
formed a scenery so various and picturesque, as to
produce a variety of reflection, and present, we will
not say to a philosophic eye, but to the mind of every
reasonable creature, the most sublime and agreeable
images.
“ Their worship partook of the general simplicity. It
was frequently conducted in the open air. The woods
resounded to the voice of the preacher, or to the singing
of his numerous congx-egations ; while their horses, fas¬
tened to the trees, formed a singular addition to the so¬
lemnity. It was indeed a striking picture ; and might
naturally impress the mind w ith a retrospect of the an¬
tediluvian days, when the hills and valleys re-echoed
the patriarchal devotions, and a Seth or an Enoch, in
the shadow of a projecting rock, or beneath the foliage
5 A 2 of
M E T [ 740 ] M E T
Methoditts. of some venerable oak, delivered his primeval lec-
1——v—tures, and was a “ preacher of righteousness to the
people.”
The American hospitality is supposed by Mr Hamp-
son to have been another reason for the assiduity of the
Methodist teachers, as well as the consciousness of
being well employed, and the satisfaction resulting
from considerations of public utility. As many of
the preachers were men of fervent piety, this reflec¬
tion would have its full weight j and the instruction
of the ignorant and the reformation of the profligate
would be considered as the best recompense of their la¬
bours. Spreading themselves through the continent,
they took in Nova Scotia, Georgia, with the principal
places in both Carolinas, Virginia, Maryland, Dela¬
ware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York;
numbering upwards of 43,000 members of their so¬
ciety, exclusive of about 80 itinerants, and a consider¬
able number of local preachers, who took no circuits,
but assisted occasionally in the neighbourhood of their
respective residence.
The large and expensive buildings which the co¬
lonists have erected for public worship, almost exceed
credibility; and several colleges are founded for the
instruction of youth. How far the proposed plan of
■uniting genuine religion and extensive learning will
be carried into execution, time only can discover. It
must materially depend on the character of the pre¬
sidents and tutors, and the provision that shall be made
for their support. Men of real erudition will never
be procured at low7 salaries j and it is in vain to at¬
tempt establishments of this sort without a liberal pro¬
vision for the professors of every branch of science.
Two of these places are called Cokesbitry and W?sley
Colleges. How they are endowed, or whether they
propose to obtain authority to confer degrees, we are
not informed. But perhaps they are rather schools
than colleges } which indeed is a circumstance to be
wished, as good grammar schools are of the utmost ser¬
vice to the progress of literature.
The great success which attended the Methodist
preachers in America naturally determined Mr Wes¬
ley to try the West India islands. The Moravians
had already attempted to establish their principles in
some of these islands j and in 1786 some preachers
were sent from the Methodists in England to the West
Indies. In many of these they met with success. So¬
cieties were formed in Barbadoes, St Vincent’s, Do¬
minica, St Christopher’s, Nevis, Antigua, St Eusta-
tius, Tortola, and St Croix, amounting in all to near
5000 persons. At this time the whole number of
Methodists in America and the West Indies amounted
to about 48,302. These societies consisted both of
whites and blacks : on the continent they were mostly
whites, but in the islands negroes. “ But it is to
be observed (says Mr Hampson) that the subjection of
the negroes, and the obedience in which they are
trained, must inculcate a docility peculiarly favour¬
able to the purposes of a mission.” Some of the mis¬
sionaries went also to St Vincent’s, where they met
with some success, and have established some schools,
in which their children are carefully instructed in the
principles of religion.
“ In January 1789 (says our author), Dr Coke
paid a visit to Jamaica, and gave them several ser¬
mons. As he made but a short stay, it could hardly be Methodists
considered as a fair trial. Should a mission be establish- -
ed here, as wrell as in the other islands, which will pro¬
bably be the case, it is hoped it will be the means of
correcting one vice at least, and that is duelling ; a sa¬
vage relick of Gothic barbarity, by which all the
islands have for many years been distinguished. Per¬
haps too it will give some check to the spirit of luxury
and dissipation } and teach the planters, if it be found
impracticable to emancipate their slaves, at least to
treat them with humanity.”
It has been debated among the leading men of the
Methodistical profession, whether the cause might not
be served by sending missionaries to the East Indies
and to Africa 3 but these projects were dropped, as
there was no invitation, nor any prospect of success
if it had been adopted. A mission has been formed to
the new settlement called Kentucky, on the confines of
the Indian territories, near the Mississippi. The dan¬
ger of the missionaries at the time they undertook this
service was certainly very great; yet such was their
zeal for the cause, that they voluntarily offered them¬
selves : but we are not yet informed what success they
have met with.
While Methodism was thus making rapid progress
in America, its teachers were equally indefatigable
in Britain. A most remarkable particular, however,
occurs with regard to Mr Wesley himself 5 for though
he had gone to Georgia, as has been already related,
to convert the Indians to Christianity, yet on his re¬
turn to England in 1738, he took it into his head
that he, their teacher, was not yet converted : the rea¬
son was, that he had not the faith of assurance. This,
however, was not long wanting. He arrived in Eng¬
land on the first day of February, and was blest with
the assurance on the sixth of March following. This
was immediately announced to the public j and the
consequence, if we may believe him, was, that God
then began to work by his ministry, which he had
not done before. Being joined by one Kinchin, a
fellow of Corpus, they travelled to Manchester, Holms
Chapel, Newcastle in Staffordshire, and other places,
where they preached, exhorted, and conversed on re¬
ligious subjects, in public houses, stables, &c. some¬
times meeting with success and sometimes not. Du¬
ring this peregrination Mr Wesley certainly displayed
a great deal of superstition, which we must undoubt¬
edly suppose to have been communicated to his hear¬
ers, and to have caused them act on many occasions
in a very ridiculous manner. An instance follows :—
“ The next day (says he), March nth, we dined
at Birmingham, and, soon after we left it, were re¬
proved for our negligence there (in letting those who
attended us go without either exhortation or instruc¬
tion) by a severe shower of hail!” About the lat¬
ter end of March or beginning of April he and his
companion began to pray extempore, leaving off en¬
tirely the forms of the church of England, to which
he had formerly been so devoted. The doctrine of
instantaneous conversion, which his imagination had
suggested to him as a work performed on himself,
was greedily received by seme of his hearers; and all
the converts to the new doctrine confirmed themselves,
and contributed greatly to persuade others, by declara¬
tions of their experiences, as they called them : how¬
ever,
MET [ 741 ] ME T
ethodists. ever, though a knowledge of the saving assurance had
■—-v—'-1' been given on March 6th, he does not date his conver¬
sion sooner than INI ay 24th of the same year.
This new doctrine of an instantaneous, and in fact
miraculous impulse, though greatly relished by the
enthusiastical part of the society, was very much dis¬
liked by others, particularly Mr Charles Wesley his
brother, who warned him of the mischief he was do¬
ing ; though he himself was soon converted, and,
what is very astonishing, two days before John Wes¬
ley himself. The particulars related of these mira¬
culous conversions are truly disgraceful, and could not
but bring into contempt the society which consisted
of such enthusiasts. “ Many (says Mr Hampson) are
represented as falling suddenly to the ground, in hor¬
ror and agony not to be conceived, and rising again
with equal expressions of peace and consolation.”—
Their conversions were usually attended with these
violent symptoms j and, for several years, few meet¬
ings occurred where Mr Wesley presided, rvithout one
or more instances of the same kind. It was not pos¬
sible that such transactions should pass without notice.
The confusion that too often prevailed, the emotions
of the persons affected, and the exultations of the rest,
which were severally animadverted upon, gave great
and general offence. Many insisted, that it must ei¬
ther be occasioned by the heat of the rooms, and the
agitation of the animal spirits under discourses of the
most alarming nature} or that it was mere artifice and
hypocrisy.
In the mean time, tAVO of the sons of a Mrs Hut¬
ton in London, happening to become converts to the
new doctrine, this lady Avas so much offended, that
she wrote to Mr Samuel Wesley, informing him, that
she Avas of opinion his brother John had lost his senses ;
and requesting, that the next time he came to his house,
he, Mr Samuel, Avould either confine or convert him.
All that could be done, however, to prevent the pro¬
gress of the neAV doctrine Avas insufficient j and the first
Methodist society Avas formed in London on the first
of May 1738, when about 50 agreed to meet together
once a-week, for free conversation, begun and ended
Avith singing and prayer.
All this time, hoAvever, it seems that the conver¬
sion of Mr Wesley was far from being so complete as
that of many of his hearers. He had preached and
converted others, Avhile he himself Avas absolutely un¬
converted. The knoAvledge of the true saving faith
Avas only revealed to him on the 6th of March, and
he did not experience its poAver till the 24th of May j
and even after this, his doubts and fears Avere still so
great, that on the 13th of June he undertook a
voyage to Germany, Avhere, in the company of Count
Zinzendorff, his faith seems to have been thoroughly
confirmed.
On Mr Wesley’s return, September 16th, 1738,
he applied himself Avith the greatest assiduity and suc¬
cess to the propagation of his doctrine. Multitudes
of converts were made in various parts of the king¬
dom 5 and the reproaches poured upon him by his
opponents, seemed to have rendered his zeal more fer¬
vent if possible than before. It is remarkable, how¬
ever, that some of his old friends Avere now so much
offended Avith his conduct or his principles, that they
absolutely refused to keep company Avith him. His
3
original plan seems to have been, to make an union of Methodists,
clergymen, and disseminate his principles by their v 1 ’
means. But in this he succeeded so ill, that in a letter
Avritten in 1742, he Avished fora clerical assistant, Avere
he only in deacons orders : but adds, “ I knoAV of
none such, who is Avilling to cast in his lot with us j
and I scarce expect I shall, because I knoAV how fast
they are rivetted in the service of the devil and the
Avorld before they leave the university.”—Finding at
last that nothing could be done wdtli them, he Avas ob¬
liged to have recourse to lay preachers ; and easily se¬
lected those who appeared to have the greatest talents
for prayer and exhortation in the private meetings ap¬
pointed for that purpose. Thus he at once raised
himself to be the head of a sect •, as the lay preachers
willingly yielded obedience to him Avho had the ad¬
vantages of superior learning and abilities, and was be¬
sides in orders as a clergyman } and this obedience he
did not fail on every occasion to exact.
If his doctrine had formerly given offence to the
established clergy, the appointment of lay preachers
was reckoned much Averse •, and their being appointed
Avithout any form of ordination Avhatever, which al¬
most all of them Averc, subjected them to contempt
and reproach, Avhich their Avant of learning, and very
often of natural abilities, did not contribute to re-
move. Thus finding the churches shut against him
and his followers, he Avas obliged to preach in the
fields, and made his first essay in this way on the se¬
cond of April 1739, in the neighbourhood of Bris¬
tol 5 Mr Whitefield having set him an example the
day before.
The success of those ignorant and itinerant preach¬
ers, Avith their absurd and uncharitable discourses and
behaviour, so provoked their adversaries, that a per¬
secution Avas soon commenced against them. Mr
Wesley himself Avas calumniated in the harshest man¬
ner, being sometimes said to be a Jesuit, sometimes
an illiterate enthusiast, as the people took it into their
heads. Many pretended to answer him in Avriting,
Avithout being able to do so : the consequence Avas,
that their deficiency of argument Avas supplied by
invective, and the most scandalous performances made
their appearance. Some of the English clergy so far
forgot themselves as to instigate the mob against them,
and the most cruel outrages were committed upon
them in various places. For some time the persecuted
party adhered to the doctrines of passive obedience and
non-resistance, which their inhuman adversaries did
not fail to take the advantage of.—The less they were
opposed, the more insolent they became. The Me¬
thodists were frequently in danger of their livesi*
Men, women with child, and even children, were
knocked doAvn and abused with the same undistin¬
guishing fury. Houses were stripped of their furni¬
ture, vast quantities of furniture carried off, feather¬
beds cut in pieces and streAved over the streets, several
reputable people Avere forced into the army, &c. To
the disgrace of magistracy also it Avas found, that Avhen
application was made to the justices of the peace, re¬
dress Avas commonly denied 5 nor Avas a stop put to these
shameful proceedings without a royal mandate for the
purpose.
From the year 1738 to 1747 Mr ^Wesley and his
itinerants were employed in various parts of England.
In i
M E T [ 742 ] M E T
Methodists. In 1747 lie went over to Dublin, v, here a society had
-y—; }jeen formed by one Mr Williams .a clergyman.—
Here they proved so-successful, notwithstanding the
number of Papists, and the violence of their other op¬
ponents, that in 1750 they had erected meeting-
Ijouses in every part of the kingdom, and had formed
29 circuits, which employed 67 itinerants, besides a
considerable number of local preachers. An invita¬
tion was given to Mr Wesley, in 1751, to visit Scot¬
land, by an officer in quarters at Musselburgh. He
accordingly took a journey thither the same year;
hut left the place, after preaching in it once or twice.
In 1753 he returned to Scotland, and visited Glas¬
gow. Societies were at length formed in that city,
as well as at Edinburgh, Dundee, Aberdeen, Inver¬
ness, and a few other places : but his success was by
ho means equal to what it had been in other parts ;
for in 1790 the number of circuits in Scotland was
no more than eight, which were supplied by 20 iti¬
nerants.
Mr Whitefield, the other great labourer in the
vineyard, was equally indefatigable, and probably
more successful than Mr Wesley. Before entering
into orders, he had formed a society of religious per¬
sons at Gloucester : here he preached his first sermon
on the Necessity and Benefit of Religious Society ;
here he became extremely popular, as well as at
Bristol and London, while preparing to set sail for
Georgia for the first time ; and in all places to which
he came, large collections were made for the poor.
He maintained the same doctrine with Mr Wesley
as to the new birth } which likewise gave offence to
the clergy when delivered by him, as it had done with
Mr Wesley. In the various intervals of his voyages
to America, he employed himself with the very same
assiduity in Britain and in Ireland, which we have al¬
ready taken notice of in the western continent. His
success was everywhere prodigious. In 1741 he was
invited to Scotland, and preached his first sermon
there at Dunfermline. From thence he went to E-
tlinburgh, and preached in several of the established
churches, but differed with Messrs Ralph and Ebene-
4 zer Erskine 3 so that he, as well as Mr Wesley, prov¬
ed unsuccessful in forming a coalition with any other
religious party. In the private way, however, his
success was very considerable, at Edinburgh, Glas¬
gow', Aberdeen, Dundee, and other places. In 1742
he paid a second visit to Scotland, and a third one
in 1748. In 1751 he visited Ireland for the first
time 3 and preached to great multitudes, without be¬
ing molested, even in places where others had been
mobbed. From thence he returned to Scotland the
same year, and speaks in very favourable terms of the
attention the people there paid to their Bibles. In
*752 and 1753 he again visited the same kingdom, and
the last time distinguished himself by preaching against
the playhouse in Glasgow. In 1756 he returned 3
and by his animated discourses at Edinburgh against
Popery and arbitrary powTer, was owned to have con¬
tributed very much to the increase of courage and
loyalty in this country. Next year he again visited the
Scottish capital during the time that the General As¬
sembly sat, and his sermons were attended by several
of the members. At Glasgow he made a large col¬
lection for the poor of that city, and from thence took
4
a voyage to Ireland. He was received with the usual Methodists
affection by the lower classes of Protestants 3 but the v —~
Popish rabble, exasperated at his success, almost mur¬
dered him with stones. After passing through a great
part of Ireland, visiting England and Wales, he paid
another visit to Scotland, where four clergymen now
lent him their pulpits. His last visit wras in the sum¬
mer of 1758, when his congregations were as large as
ever 3 and it is to his endeavours principally that we
are to ascribe the great number of Methodist societies
now existing in Scotland.
With regard to the religious principles of the Me¬
thodists, wre cannot enter into any particular detail ;
neither indeed arc there any doctrines peculiar to all
included under that name, except the single one of
universal redemption. In March 1741, Mr Whitefield history of
being returned to England, entirely separated from Mr^
Wesley and his friends, “ because he did not hold the
decrees.”—Here was the first breach, which vrarm men
persuaded Mr Whitefield to make, merely for a dif¬
ference of opinion. Those indeed who believed uni¬
versal redemption, had no desire at all to separate: but
those who held particular redemption, wTould not hear
of any accommodation, being determined to have no
fellowship with men that “ were in such dangerous
errors.” So there were now twro sorts of Methodists
so called 5 those for particular, and those for general
redemption.
Not many years passed, befox-e William Cudworth
and James Relly sepai-ated from Mr Whitefield.—
These were properly Antinomians, absolute avowed
enemies to the law of God, which they never preach¬
ed or professed to preach, but termed all legalists who
did. With them, preaching the law wras an abomina¬
tion. They had nothing to do with the law. They
would preach Christ, as they called it 3 but without
one word either of holiness or good w'orks. Yet
these were still denominated Methodists, although dif¬
fering from Mr Whitefield both in judgment and
practice, abundantly more than Mr Whitefield did
from Mr W esley.
In the mean time, Mr Venn and Mr Romaine be¬
gan to be spoken of: and not long after Mr Madan
and Mr Berridge, with a few other clergymen, who,
although they had no connexion with each other,
yet preaching salvation by faith, and endeavouring to
live accordingly, to be Bible Christians, were soon in¬
cluded in the general name of Methodists. And so in¬
deed were all others who pleached salvation by faith,
and appeared more serious than their neighbom\s.
Some of these were quite regular in their manner of
preaching : some wei'e quite ix-regular, (though not
by choice 3 but necessity was laid upon them, they
must preach irregularly, or not at all) : and others were
between both 3 regular in most, though not in all par¬
ticular's.
In 1762, George Bell and a fewr other persons be¬
gan to speak great words. In the latter end of the
year they foretold that the world would be at an end
on the 28th of February. Mr Wesley, with whom
they were then connected, withstood them both in
public and private. This they would not endure :
so, in January and February 1763, they separated from
him, under the care of Mr Maxfield, one of Mr W :es-
ley’s preachers. But stiff Mr Maxfield and his adhe¬
rents,
M E T
ethodists I'ent':, even the wildest enthusiasts among them,
v——under the general name of .Methodists, and so bring
a scandal upon those with whom they have no con¬
nexion.
At present, those who remain with Mr Wesley
are mostly Church of England men. They love her
articles, her homilies, her liturgy, her discipline, and
unwillingly vary from it in any instance. Mean time, all
wiio preach among them declare, we are all hij nature
childrcnof wrath, but by grace we aresavedthroughfaith:
saved from both the guilt and from the power of sin.
They endeavour to live according to what they preach,
to be plain Bible Christians j and they meet toge¬
ther at convenient times, to encourage one another
therein. They tenderly love many that are Calvinists,
though they do not love their opinions. Yea, they
love the Antinomians themselves 3 but it is with a love
of compassion only, for they hate their doctrines with
a perfect hatred; they abhor them as they do hell fire:
being convinced nothing can so effectually destroy all
faith, all holiness, and all good works.
We shall conclude this article with the words of Mr
Hampson, which must certainly be accounted just, what¬
ever objections may be made to some parts of the prin¬
ciples or behaviour of the Methodists. “ II they pos¬
sess not much knowledge, which, however, we do not
know to be the case, it is at least certain, they are not
deficient in zeal : and without any passionate desire to
imitate their example, we may at least commend their
endeavours for the general good. Every good man
xvill contemplate with pleasure the operation of the
spirit of reformation, whether foreign or domestic 3
and will rejoice in every attempt to propagate Chri¬
stianity in the barbarous parts of the world. An at¬
tempt which, if in any tolerable degree successful, will
do infinitely more for their civilization and happiness,
than all the united energies of those boasted benefac¬
tors of mankind, the philosophic infidels.”
The minutes of the conference of the Methodists
held at Leeds in August, 1806, represent the numbers
of that society to be as follows :
In Great Britain, - - 110,803
Jn Ireland, - . - 23,773
Gibraltar, - - 40
Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and New¬
foundland, - - - 1418
West Indies, whites 1775, coloured people
13,165, - - - I4»94°
United States, whites 95,628, coloured people
24,316, - - *i9>945
[ 743 ] met
go circumstances, &c. in opposition to empirics and che-Methodists-
270,919
Total,
Methodists {Methodici'), in the history oi medi¬
cine, a sect of ancient physicians, who reduced the
whole art of healing to a few common principles or ap¬
pearances. The Methodists were the followers of
Thcssalus 3 whence they were also called Thcssalici.
They were strenuously opposed by Galen in several of
his writings 3 who scrupled not to assert, that the me¬
thodical heresy ruined every thing that was good in the
art. According to Quincy, the Methodists (Methodici^)
are those physicians who adhere to the doctrine of
Galen, and the schools 3 and who cure with bleeding,
purges, &c. duly applied according to the symptoms,
mists, who use violent medicines, and pretended secrets
or nostrums. ■
METHUSELAH, the son of Enoch and father of
Lamech, was born in the year of the world 687, begat
Lamech in 874, and died in 1656, being the very year
of the deluge, at the age of 969, which is the greatest
age that has be^i attained to by any mortal man upon
earth (Gen. v. 21, 22, &c.). According to the text
of the Septuagint, Methuselah must have lived 14 years
after the deluge 3 and according to other copies, he
died six years befoie it: but it is generally agreed on,
that these copies, as well as the Septuagint, are cor¬
rupted in this place.
METHYMNA, in Ancient Geography ,. a town
the island of Lesbos. It w^as the second city of the
island in greatness, population, and opulence. Its terri¬
tory w as fruitful, and the wines it produced excellent.
It was the native place of Theophrastus, and of Arion
the musician. When the whole island of Lesbos revolt¬
ed from the power of the Athenians, Methyrana alone
remained firm to its ancient allies.
METOECI, a name given by the Athenians to such
as had their fixed habitations in Attica, though fo¬
reigners by birth. The metccci were admitted by the
council of Areopagus, and entered in the public re¬
gister. They difl’ered both from the Trohilxt and |ev6< 3
because the politer or “ citizens” were freemen of A-
thens, and the .vent or strangers” had lodgings only
for a short time 3 whereas the metccci though not free¬
men of Athens, constantly resided upon the spot whi¬
ther they had removed.
METONYMY, in 'Rhetoric, is a trope in which one
name is put for another, on account of the near relation
there is between them. See Oratory, N° 51.
METOPE, in Architecture, is the interval or square
space between the triglyphs of the Doric frieze, which
among the ancients used to be painted or adorned with
carved work, representing the heads of oxen or utensils
used in sacrifices.
METOPOSCOPY, the pretended art of knowing
a person’s dispositions and manners by viewing the
traces and lines in the face. Giro Spontoni, who has
written expressly on metoposcopy, says,jbat seven lines
are examined in the forehead, and that each line is
considered as having its particular planet: the first is
the line of Saturn, the second of Jupiter, the third of
Mars, &c. Metoposcopy is only a branch of phy¬
siognomy, which founds its conjectures on all the parts
of the body.
METRE, in Poetry, a system of feet of a
just length.
The different metres in poetry, are the difierent
manners of ordering and combining the quantities, or
the long and short syllables 3 thus hexameter, pentame¬
ter, iambic, sapphic verses, consist of difterent me¬
tres or measures. See Hexameter.
In English verses, the metres are extremely various
and arbitrary, every poet being at liberty to introduce
any new form that he pleases. The most usual are the
heroic, generally consisting of five long and five short
syllables, and verses of four feet, and of three feet, and
a ceesura or single syllable.
The ancients, by variously combining and transpos¬
ing their quantities, made a vast variety of different.
measures;.,.
Metre.
MET [ 744 ] M E U
Metre measures, by forming spondees, &c. of different feet.
!l See Poetry.
Metz. METRETES, a Grecian measure, containing some¬
thing more than nine English gallons. See Mea¬
sure.
METRICAL verses, are those consisting of a de¬
terminate number of long and short syllables j as those
of the Greek and Latin poets.—Capelins observes, that
the genius of the Hebrew language is incompatible with
metrical poetry.
METRQCOMIA (from fufluig, mother, and fcu/tvi,
town or village), a term in the ancient church-history,
signifying “ a borough or village that had other vil¬
lages under its jurisdiction.”—What a metropolis was
among cities, a mctrocomia was among country towns.
The ancient metrocomice had each its choriepiscopus or
rural dean, and here was his see or residence. See
Metropolis and Choriepiscopus.
METRONOMII, the name given by the Athe¬
nians to five officers in the city and ten in the Pircnts,
rvhose duty it was to inspect all sorts of measures ex¬
cept those of corn. The Pirceus was the greatest mart
in Attica.
METROPOLIS (from fuiTvg, mother, and
city), the capital of a country or province ; or the prin¬
cipal city, and as it were mother of all the rest.
The term METROPOLIS is also applied to archiepis-
copal churches, and sometimes to the principal or mo¬
ther-church of a city. The Roman empire having
been divided into 13 dioceses and 120 provinces, each
diocese and each province had its metropolis or capi¬
tal city, where the proconsul had his residence. To
this civil division the ecclesiastical was afterwards
adapted, and the bishop of the capital city had the di¬
rection of aftairs, and the pre-eminence over all the
bishops of the province. His residence in the metro¬
polis gave him the title of metropolitan. This erection
of metropolitans is referred to the end of the third
century, and was confirmed by the council of Nice.
A metropolitan has the privilege of ordaining his suf¬
fragans ; and appeals from sentences passed by the suf¬
fragans are preferred to the metropolitan.
Metropolis, in Ancient Geography, a town of Acar-
nania, a little to the south of Stratos.—Another, of
Lydia j situated between Colophon and Priene, near the
Cayster.—A third, of Phrygia; sacred to the mother
of the gods, who was here worshipped.—A fourth Me¬
tropolis of Estiotis, a district in Thessaly, to the east of
(romphi, and the last town of that district. HAetropo-
Ktce, the people.
MET ULUM, in Ancient Geography, a considerable
city of Liburnia, at the siege of which Octavius Caesar
was wounded. Said to be the metropolis, and situated
on two eminences, intersected by a valley (Appian).
Now generally thought to be Met ling in Carniola. E.
Long. 16. N. Lat. 46. 5.
METZ, an ancient, large, and strong town of
France, and capital of the territory of Messin, writh a
citadel and a bishop’s see, whose bishop used to hold
the title of a prince of the empire. The cathedral
church is one of the finest in Europe, and the square
called Coshn and the house of the governor are worth
seeing. Ihe Jews live in a part of the town by
themselves, where they have a synagogue. The sweet¬
meats they make here are in high esteem. It is seated
at the confluence of the rivers Moselle and Seillc. E.
Long. 6. 16. N. Lat. 49. 7.
MEVANIA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Cisapennine Umbria j seated at the confluence of the
Tina and Clitumnus, on the Via Flaminia, famous for
its herds of white cattle brought up there for sacrifice;
the white colour said to be owing to the wraters of the
Clitumnus (Virgil). Mevania w as the country of Pro¬
pertius. Mevenates the people. Now said to be Be-
vagna, in the territory of the Pope.
MEURSIUS, John, a learned and laborious writer,
was born at Losdun, near the Hague, in 1579. He
early discovered a fondness for polite literature and
the sciences 5 and went to study law at Orleans with
the son of Barneveldt, whom he accompanied in his
travels. In 1610 he was made professor of history at
Leyden, and afterwards Greek professor. In the fol¬
lowing year, the magistrates of the United Provinces
proved how high their opinion w as of his abilities, by
fixing on him to wrrite the history of his country.
Meursius married in the year 1612. His wife, Anna
Catherina Bilberbeccia, descended from a very ancient
and noble family in Angermond a city of Pomerania,
possessed many amiable qualities, and rendered his do¬
mestic life remarkably happy, while he discharged the
duties of his professorship with an assiduity equal to his
abilities. At the same time the republic of letters did
not lose the advantages to be derived from his labours;
for during the fourteen years of his residence at Ley¬
den, the works which he published wrere more numer¬
ous than those which had been presented to the world
by the whole body of professors from the original foun¬
dation of the university in 1575.
Meursius’s writings had now spread his reputa¬
tion in every part of Europe $ nor was the fame of
his diligence and talents as a professor less known.
In so high a rank, indeed, did he stand among his
literary contemporaries, that Christian 1\. king of
Denmark conferred on him the place of historiogra¬
pher royal, and invited him to undertake the profes¬
sorship of history and politics in the academy of Sora,
which was founded by King Frederick II. although
the revival of its honours and dignities may be dated
from this period, when it seemed to be again founded
under the auspices of Christian . Meursius and
his family left Leyden in the year 1635. On his ar¬
rival at Sora, he was received with the most friendly
tokens of regard by his majesty and the Danish nobi¬
lity, and more particularly by Chancellor Rosenkrantz,
on whom he has bestowed very ample praises in one of
las letters. Here he resided, equally beloved and ad¬
mired, for above twelve years. His pujnls were not
very numerous, but his exertions never relaxed. Those
hours likewise which were not devoted to the duties of
his professorship, he employed in revising the works of
the ancients and in philological disquisitions.
His health did not sufler by the intenseness of ap¬
plication, till in the year 1638 he had a violent at¬
tack of the stone, from which disorder he had suffered
severely. In a letter to Vossius he thus describes his
melancholy condition: “ The state of my health du¬
ring the whole of the last w’inter has been truly de¬
plorable. My sufferings from the stone have been
really dreadful. I have voided so many, that the re¬
peated discharges brought on a wound which emit-
M E U [ 745 j M E X
'Ueursius. ted blood for above four months. I was next attacked
L v-—1 by a tertian fever, which increased constantly, and
produced an universal lassitude of body, a dejection
of spirits, and a total loss of appetite. But, thank
heaven, 1 have now in some measure recovered my
strength, and gotten the better of these complaints.”
He recovered from this attack j but in the following
year the disorder returned with redoubled violence,
and brought on a consumption, which terminated his
existence on the 20th day of September 1639.
left behind him a sou who was named after him, and
one daughter.
So mild were the dispositions of Meursius, that in
all his writings he constantly avoided literary disputes.
He was sometimes unavoidably drawn into them $ but
constantly endeavoured to promote a reconciliation
rather than widen any breach, by his replies to the
attacks of his adversaries. In his friendships he was
firm and afIVctionate. Of his domestic life, whatever is
known has been gathered from !us letters. The same
easy tranquillity seems to have attended him in every
situation. In his family he w-as particularly fortunate.
In his son, to whom he gave his own name, he seemed
to behold his own youth renewed. The same applica¬
tion, the same eagerness in the pursuit of knowledge,
marked the conduct of this promising young man j w ho
did not long survive his father, but died soon after he
had recommended himself to the notice of the learned
world by his publications. They were only three in
number j but displayed so much solid learning that they
have been assigned to the father, John Meursius, by
I’Abbe Beughem and others. This mistake was occa¬
sioned as much by the similitude of their names, as by
the nature of their works, and their' manner of treating
philological subjects.
His works may be divided into four classes, of which
each might form a separate volume if they were ever
to be republished. Meursius himself indeed, in one of
his letters to Vossius, proposes such a division. From
that epistle, and from another which the younger
Meursius sent to G, I. Vossius, who strongly advised
him to republidi the whole of his father’s writings, and Meursius
from the collections of his posthumous works which 1!
have appeared from Struvius, Groschupsius, Moller,,
and some others, a catalogue of his works might he
formed. Some assistance will also be derived from the
indexes published in their respective works, by Hank¬
ins, Desselius, Wettenius, and Bartholinus. The plan
which Meursius recommends for publishing his works,
is to insert in the first volume all that he has written
relative to Athens3 in the second, his historical pieces j
in the third his miscellaneous dissertations $ and in the
fourth, the various authors which he published, with
his notes and corrections,.
A scandalous and indecent work, which is entitled
Mevrsii elegant ice Latini sermoms ,and has Alois Ice Si-
gece Satyr(V Sotadicce annexed to it, is very falsely attri¬
buted to Meursiusy nor indeed are the Satires with
more reason assigned to Aloisia Sigea, who was a
Spanish lady eminent for her piety and virtue. The
real author of these infamous productions was Westre-
nius, an advocate at Copenhagen, who probably assum¬
ed the name of Meursius, in order to shield himself
from the,disgrace which would naturally have attended
the writer of such a performance.
MEW, Sea-mew, or Sea-mall. 7 See Larus, Or\i-
Winter Mm', or Coddy-moddy. Jj" thqlogy Index.
MEWING, the falling off or change of hair, fea¬
thers, skin, horns, or other parts of animals, which
happens.in some annually, in others only at certain stages
ol their lives j but the generality of beasts mew in the
spring. An old hart casts his horns sooner than a young
one, which is commonly in the months of February and
March : after which they begin to button in March or
April: and as the sun grows strong, and the season of
the year puts forth the fruits of the earth, so their heads
grow, and are summed full by the middle of June. It
is to be observed, that if a hart be gelt before he has a
head, he will never have any ; and if he be gelt after
he has a head, he will never cast his horns j again, if
he be gelt when he has a velvet head, it will always be
so, without fraying or burnishing.
M E X
Hktory. A Province of the Spanish empire in America,
v—^ once a celebrated kingdom, the most powerful
and civilized in the new world ; lying between the 14th
and 21st degrees of north latitude, and between 91 and
103 degrees west longitude ; being near 2000 miles in
length, and in some places 600 miles in breadth.
1 The Toltecans are the most ancient Mexican nation
the UrsThi we know any thing. They were expelled,
habitants. as we are to^> from their own country (supposed by
Clavigero to have been Tollan, to the northward of
Mexico) in the year 472 j and for some time led a
wandering life. In whatever place they determined to
reside for any considerable time, they erected houses
and cultivated the ground. Thus their migrations were
extremely slow, and it was not till 104 years after they
2 set out that they reached a place about 50 miles to the
Their hi- eastward of the city of Mexico, where they settled for 20
Rory. years, giving to their new place of residence the name
Vol, XIII. Part II. f
I c o,
of Tollantzinco. From thence they proceeded about 40 jjIvlon .
miles farther to the west, where they built a city called, -y—!«.
from the name of their country, Tollan, or Tula.
After the final settlement of the Toltecans, the govern¬
ment was changed into a monarchy. Their Erst king be¬
gan his reign in 667, and their monarchy lasted 384
years, during which time they reckon just eight princes.
We are not, however, to imagine that each of their
kings lived long enough to make up this space. It
was a custom among them that the name of the king
should be continued for 52 years, and no longer, from
the time he ascended the throne. If he died within
that period, the government was carried on in his name
by a regency j if he survived, he was obliged to resign
his authority. During the four centuries that the
Toltecan monarchy continued, they had increased very
considerably in number, and had built many cities \
but when in the height of prosperity, almost the
5 B whole
741)
MEXICO.
History, whole nation was destroyed by a famine occasioned by
v——V"’*** 1 drought j and a pestilence, probably the consequence
of the former. “ According to Torquemada (says
our author), at a certain festival-ball made by the Tolte-
cans, the sad-loofa'ng devil appeared to them of a gigan¬
tic size, with immense arms, and in the midst of the en¬
tertainment he embraced and suffocated them j that then
he appeared in the form of a child with a putrid head,
and brought the plague ; and, finally, at the persuasion
^ of the same devil, they abandoned the country of T ula.1’
Succeeded They were succeeded by the Chichemecas, a much
by the Chi- morc barbarous people, who came from an unknown
rhemccas. C0Lintry called Amaquemecan, where they had for a
long time resided ; but of which no traces of remem¬
brance can be found among any of the American na¬
tions known to Europeans j so that Clavigero supposes
it must have been very far to the northward.
The motive which the Chichemecas had for leaving
their own country is net known. They were eighteen
months on their journey, and took possession of the
desolate country of the Toltecans about an hundred
years after the former had left it. They were much
more uncivilized than the Toltecans $ but, however,
had a regular form of monarchical government, and
in other respects were less disgusting in their manners
than some of the neighbouring nations. The last
king who reigned in Amaquemecan before the depar¬
ture of the Chichemecas, had left his dominions between
his two sons Auchcauhtli and Xolotl, and the latter
conducted the new colony. Having proceeded from
the ruins of Tula towards Chempoalla and Tepepolio,
Xolotl sent his son to survey the county. The prince
crossed the borders of the lakes and the mountains
which surround the vale of Mexico ; then ascending
to the top of a very high one, he viewed the whole
country, and took possession of it in the name of his
4 father, by shooting four arrows to the four winds.
Xolotl theii- Xolotl being informed by his son of the nature of
first king, the country, chose for the capital of his kingdom Te-
nayuca, about six miles to the northward of the city
of Mexico, and distributed his people in the neigh¬
bouring territory 5 but as most of them went to the
northward, that part obtained the name of the country
of the Chichemecas, in distinction from the rest. Here
a review of the people was taken, and their number,
according to Torquemada, was more than a million.
Xolotl finding himself peacefully settled in his new
dominion, sent one of his officers to explore the sources
of some of the rivers of the country. While perform¬
ing this task he came to the habitations of some Tol¬
tecans, who it seems had still kept together, and were
likely once moi'e to become a nation. As these peo¬
ple were not inclined to war, and greatly esteemed for
their knowledge and skill in the arts, the Chiche-
His people mecas entered into a strict alliance with them, and
civilized by Prince Nopaltzin, who had first surveyed the country,
the Tolte- married a Toltecan princess. The consequence of
cans' this alliance was the introduction of the arts and
knowledge of the Toltecans among the Chichemecas.
Till now the latter had subsisted entirely by hunting,
and such fruits and roots as the earth spontaneously
produced. They were clad in the skins of wild beasts,
and, like these beasts, they are said to have sucked
the blood of the animals they caught j hut after their
connection with the Toltecans they began to sow corn.
to learn the art of digging and working metals, to uis-tary,
cut stones, manufacture cotton, and, in every respect, -v-kj
to make great improvements. 6
When Xolotl had reigned about eight years in his New inha-
new territories, an embassy of six persons arrived from lutants ar.
a distant country not far from Amaquemecan, expressing nTfc and o5>~
a desire of coming with their people to reside in the '^(^de-
country of the Chichemecas. The king gave them
a gracious reception, and assigned them a district j
and, in a few years after, three other princes, with a
great army of Acolhuans, who were likewise neigh¬
bours of Amaquemecan, made their appearance. The
king was at that time at Tezcuco, to which place he
had removed his court: and here he was accosted by
the princes, who, in a submissive and flattering man¬
ner, requested him to allow them a place in his hap¬
py country, where the people enjoyed such an excel¬
lent government. Xolotl not only gave them a fa¬
vourable reception, but offered them his two daugh¬
ters in marriage, expressing his concern tlrat he had
no more, that none might have been excluded from
the royal alliance. On the third prince, however, he
bestowed a noble virgin of Chaleo, in whom the Tol¬
tecan and Chichemecan blood were united. The nup¬
tials were celebrated with extraordinary pomp j and
the two nations, after the example of the sovereigns,
continued to intermarry. A8 the Acolhuans were the
more civilized nation of the two, the name of Chi¬
chemecas began to be appropriated to the more rude
and barbarous part, who preferred hunting to agricul¬
ture, or chose a life of savage liberty in the mountains
to the restraints of social laws. These barbarians asso¬
ciated with the Otomies, another savage nation who
lived to the northward, occupying a tract of more than
three hundred miles in extent 5 and by their descend¬
ants the Spaniards were harassed for many years after
the conquest of Mexico. ^
As soon as the nuptial rejoicings were over, Xolotl Division of
divided his territories into three parts, assigning’one the domi-
to each of the princes. Acolhuatzin, who had mar-
ried his eldest daughter, had Azcopazalco, 18 miles ^
to the westward of Tezcuco j Chiconquauhtli, who
married the other, had a territory named Xaltocan j
and Tzontecomatl, who married the lady of inferior
rank, had one named Coatlichan. The country con¬
tinued for some time to flourish, population increased
greatly, and with it the civilization of the people 5
hut as these advanced, the vices of luxury and ambi¬
tion increased in proportion. Xolotl found himself
obliged to treat his subjects with more severity than
formerly, and even to put some of them to death.—
This produced a conspiracy against him, which, how¬
ever, he had the good fortune to escape ", but while he
meditated a severe revenge on the conspirators, he was
seized with the distemper of which he died, in the
fortieth year of his reign, and in a very advanced age. g
Xolotl was succeeded by his son Nopaltzin, who at i^0paitzin
the time of bis accession is supposed to have been the second
about sixty years of age. In his time, the tranquilli- king,
ty of the kingdom, which had begun to suffer disturb¬
ance under his father, underwent much more violent
shocks, and civil wars took place. Acolhuatzin, the
only one of the three princes who remained alive,
thinking the territory he possessed too narrow, made
war upon the lord of a neighbouring province named
Tapotzotlan,
jBstory.
9
Quinatzin
a luxurious
prince.
10
Disturhan-
Ices in va-
'rious parts.
, , ”
Migrations
'if the Mex¬
icans.
M E X
Tapotzotian, and deprived him of his territory. ITuet-
zin, son to the late Prince Tzontecomatl, lord of
Coatlichan, fell in love with the grand-daughter of
the queen, a celebrated beauty, but was rivalled by a
neighbouring lord, who determined to support his
pretensions by force of arms. Huetzin, however, got
the better, defeated and killed his adversary, and then
possessed himself of the lady and his estate. This was
followed by a rebellion of the whole province of Tol-
lantzinco, so that the king himself was obliged to take
the field. As the rebels were very numerous, the
royal army was at first defeated ; but having at last
received a strong reinforcement, the rebels were over¬
come, and their ringleaders severely punished. The
king did not long survive the restoration of tranquillity
to his dominions. He died in the thirty-second year of
his reign, and ninety-second of his age, leaving the
throne to his eldest son Tlotzin, who was an excellent
prince, and reigned thirty-six years.
Quinatzin, the son and successor of Tlotzin, proved a
vain and luxurious prince. His accession to the throne
was celebrated with much greater pomp than any of his
predecessors. Xolotl had removed his court from Te-
nayuca to Tezcuco ; but being disgusted wfith this last
place, on account of the conspiracy formed against him
there, he had returned to Tenayuca.—-There the court
continued to the reign of Quinatzin, who removed it
back to Tezcuco.
The reign of Quinatzin, though tranquil at first,
was soon disturbed by dangerous revolts and rebellions.
These fii’st broke out in two states, named Maztillen
and Totopec, situated among the northern mountains.
The king, having collected a great army, marched
without delay against the rebels, and challenged their
leaders to come down and fight him in the plain.—
This challenge being accepted, a furious engagement
ensued, in which, though great numbers fell on both
sides, no decisive advantage was gained by either
party. Frequent engagements took place for the
space of forty days, until at last the rebels perceiving
that their own numbers were daily diminishing, w-itb-
out any possibility of being recruited like the royal
army, made a final surrender to the king, who pu¬
nished the ringleaders with great severity. Tranquil¬
lity, however, w’as not yet restored : the rebellion
spread to such a degree, that the king w'as obliged
not only to take the field in person, but to employ six
other armies, under the command of faithful and ex¬
perienced generals, to reduce the rebels. These proved
so successful in their enterprises, that in a short time
the rebellious cities were reduced to obedience, and
the kingdom enjoyed the blessings of peace during the
long reign of Quinatzin, who is said to have sat on the
throne for no less than sixty years. He w'as succeeded
by his son Teehotlatla; but as the affairs ot theAcolhu-
ans nowbegan to he connected with thoseof the Mexicans,
it will be proper to give some account of that people.
The Mexicans, called also the Aztecas, dwelt till
the year 1160 m a country called Azt/an, situated to
the north of the gulf of California, as appears by the
route they pursued in their journey; but how far to
the northward we are not certainly informed. Betan¬
court makes it no less than 2700 miles, and Boturini
says it was a province of Asia. Ihe cause ol their
migration is said to have been as follows:
I C O. 747
Among the Aztecas was a person of great audio- History,
rity, named IIui%tiiiny to whose opinion every one paid ' v—
the utmost deference. He had conceived a design to
persuade his countrymen to change their residence ; and
to eflect this he fell upon the following stratagem. Ha¬
ving heard, while meditating on his scheme, a little
bird singing on the branches of a tree, the notes of
which resembled the word Tihui, which in the Azteca
language signified “ let us go,” he took that opportu¬
nity to work upon the superstition of the people. With
this view, he took along with him a respectable person,
and made him attend to the note of the bird. “ What
can it mean (says he), but that we must leave this
country, and find ourselves another? Without doubt it
is the warning of some secret divinity who watches over
our welfare : let us obey, therefore, his voice, and not
draw his anger upon us by a refusal.” Tecpaltzin, for
that was the name of his friend, readily agreed to the
interpretation; and both of them being persons of
great influence, their united persuasions soon gained
over to their project the bulk of the nation, and they
accordingly set out.
The Aztecas, when they left their original habita- Separation
tions, -were divided into six tribes $ but at Culiacan the of the
Mexicans were left with their god * by five of-them,viz. ln,)es.
the Xochimilcas, Tepanecas, Chalcese, Tlahuicas, and u'ood
rrn i nit C r i • • • ■ en Wiage,
Uascalans. Ine cause ot this separation is not known,
but it tvas probably occasioned by some disagreement
among themselves } for the remaining tribe was divided
into twro violent factions, which persecuted one another :
neither did they afterwards construct anymore edifices.
However, they alw’ays travelled together, in order to
enjoy the company of their imaginary god. At every
place where they stopped an altar was erected to him *,
and at their departure they left behind them all
their sick, and probably also some others to take care
of them, or such as were not willing to endure the
fatigue of farther journeys. They stopjied in Tula
nine years, and eleven more in the neighbouring parts.
At last, in 1216, they arrived at Zumpanco, a consi¬
derable city in the vale of Mexico, where they were
received in a very hospitable manner by the lord of
that district. He not only assigned them proper ha¬
bitations, but became very much attached to them j
and even demanded from among them a wife for
his son Ilhnicatl. This request was complied with *,
and from this marriage all the Mexican kings descend¬
ed.
The Mexicans continued to migrate from one place
to another along the lake of Tezcuco. Xolotl, who
w'as then on the throne of the Acolhuans or Chiche-
mecas, allowed them to settle in whatever places of
his dominions they thought proper 5 but some of them
finding themselves harassed by a neighbouring lord, 'jqlc 7\jev
were obliged in x 245, to retire to Chapoltepec, a cans perse-
mountain on the western borders of the lake, scarcely ented,
two miles distant from the site of Mexico. This took
place in the reign of Nopaltzin, when disturbances be¬
gan to take place in the Acolhuan dominions. The
Mexicans, however, did not find themselves any more
secure in their new place of residence than formerly :
they were persecuted by the neighbouring lords, and
obliged to take refuge in a number of small islands,
named Acocolco, at the southern extremity of the lake
of Mexico. Here for 52 years they lived in the most
5 B 2 miserable
748
History.
T4
and en¬
slaved.
15
Regain
their liber¬
ty by cruel¬
ty.
. 16
The first
human sa¬
crifice in
Mexico.
M E X
miserable manner, subsisting on fish, Insects, roots, &c.
and clothing themselves with the leaves of the amoxtli,
which abounds in that lake.
In this miserable plight the Mexicans continued till
the year 1314, when they were reduced to a state of
the most absolute slavery. This was done by the king
of a petty state named Colhuacan, who, it is said, be¬
ing unwilling to allow the Mexicans to maintain them¬
selves in his territories without paying tribute, made
war upon them, subdued and enslaved them. Others
affirm that, pretending compassion for their miserable
situation, he offered them a more commodious place of
residence. The Mexicans readily accepted the ofl'er;
but had scarcely set out to take possession of their new
place of residence when they were attacked by the Col-
huans, made prisoners, and carried off for slaves.
After some years a war broke out betwixt the Col-
huans and Xochimilcas, in which the latter gained
such advantages, that they were obliged to employ
their slaves to assist them. They accordingly ordered
them to prepare for war, but without furnishing them
with arms necessary for a military enterprise 5 so that
the Mexicans were obliged to content themselves with
long staves, having their points hardened in the fire ;
they also made knives of the stone itztli, and shields
of reeds woven together. They agreed not to waste their
time in making prisoners, but to content themselves
with cutting oft' one ear of their enemies, and then
leaving them without farther injury. They adhered
punctually to this resolution j and rushing furiously up¬
on the Xochimilcas, cut oft’ an ear from as many as
they could, killing those who struggled to such a de¬
gree that they could not effect their purpose. In short,
so well did the Mexicans acquit themselves in this en¬
gagement, that the Xochimilcas fled, and took refuge
among the mountains. After the battle, the Colhuan
soldiers presented themselves before their general with
the prisoners they had taken, by the number of which
alone they judged of their valour. The Mexicans had
taken only four, and these they kept concealed for the
abominable purpose of sacrificing them. The Colhuans,
therefore, seeing no trophies of their valour, began to
reproach them with cowardice } but the Mexicans, pro¬
ducing their baskets of ears, desired them to judge
from these how many prisoners they might have taken,
had they not been unwilling to retard their victory by
taking up time in binding them.
Notwithstanding the valour displayed by the Mexi¬
cans in this engagement, it doth not appear that their
haughty masters were in the least inclined to afford them
easier terms than before. Having erected an altar to
their god, they demanded of their lord something pre¬
cious to offer in sacrifice to him ; but lie in disdain sent
them a dirty cloth, enclosing the filthy carcass of a vile
bird. This was carried by Colhuan priests ; and with¬
out any ceremony laid upon the altar. The Mexicans,
with apparent unconcern, removed this filthy offering,
and put in its place a knife made of itztli, and an odo¬
riferous herb. On the day of consecration, the Col¬
huan prince attended with his nobility j not with a
view to do honour to the festival, but to make a moc¬
kery of the Mexicans. Their derision, however, was
soon changed into horror, when the Mexicans, after a
solemn dance, brought forth the four Xochimilcan pri¬
soners they had taken; and, after having made them
I c o.
dance a little, cut open their breasts with the knife History
which lay on the altar, and plucking out their hearts,—v-—j
offered them, while yet palpitating with life, to their
diabolical idol. This had sucb an effect upon the spec¬
tators, that both king and subjects desired the Mexicans
immediately to quit their territories and go where they
pleased. This order was instantly obeyed : the whole
nation took their route towards the north, until they
came to a place named Acat%il%intlan, situated betwixt
two lakes, and afterwards named Mericall-zinco; but
for some reason or other, being discontented with this
situation, as indeed they seem very often to have been,
they proceeded to I%tacaho, still nearer to the site of
Mexico. Here they formed the image of a little moun¬
tain of paper, and danced round it a whole night,
singing their victory over the Xochimilcas, and reunit¬
ing thanks to their god for having freed them from the
yoke of the Colhuans. Clavigero is of opinion, that by
this mountain they represented Colhuacan, as in their
pictures it was always represented by a hunch-backed
mountain j and this is the literal signification of the
name. ^
The city of Mexico wTas founded in the year 1325, The city of
in the most incommodious situation we can imagine, Mexiee
viz. on a small island named Tenochtitlan, in the mid-loum^-
die of a great lake, without ground to cultivate for
their subsistence, or even room sufficient to build their
habitations. Their life wras therefore as miserable here
for some time as it had been when they were on the
islands at the end of the lake, and they were reduced
to the same shift to maintain themselves. To enlarge
the boundaries of their island, they drove palisades in¬
to those parts of the water which w'ere most shallow7,
terracing them with stones and turf, and uniting to
their principal island several other smaller ones which
lay in the neighbourhood. To procure to themselves
afterwards stones, wood, &c. for constructing their
habitations, as w7ell as clothing and other necessaries,
they instituted a commerce with the people who dwTelt
on the borders of the lake, supplying them with fish,
waterfowl, and other more minute inhabitants of the
lake and marshes, which they contrived to render eat¬
able ; and in return for all this they received the neces¬
saries above mentioned. The greatest effort of their
industry, however, was the construction of floating gar¬
dens, by means of bushes and the mud of the lake ; and
these they brought to such perfection that they produced
maize, pepper, chia, French beans, and gourds. jg
For thirteen years that the Mexicans had to struggle The two
with extreme difficulty, they remained at peace ; put iactions se-
no sooner did they begin to prosper and live comfort- Parate*
ably, than the inveterate enmity betwixt the two factions
broke out in all its fury. This produced a separation ;
and one of the parties took up their residence on a small
island at a little distance to the northward, which, from
a heap of sand found there, they at first named Xallilol-
co, but afterwards T/atelolco, from a terrace constructed
by themselves. This island was afterwards united to
that of Tenochtitlan.
About this time the Mexicans divided their city into
four parts, a division w hich still subsists j each quarter
having now its tutelar saint, as it had formerly its tute¬
lar god. In the midst of their city was the sanctuary
of their great god Mexitli, whom they constantly pre¬
ferred to all the rest. To him they daily performed
acts
M E X
History. ȣts of adoration : but instead of making any progress
—-v—' in humanity, they seem to have daily improved in the
19 most horrible barbarities, at least in their religion.
*rbarit°UofT'he dreadful sacrifices made of their prisoners, could
ieir reli- onty exceeded by that which we arc now about to
urn. relate. Being nowr on a more respectable footing than
formerly, they sent an embassy to the petty king of
Colhuacan, requesting him to send them one of his
daughters, that she might be consecrated the mother
of their protecting god. The unsuspecting prince
readily complied with their desire.—The unfortunate
princess wras conducted in great triumph to Mexico j
but no sooner was she arrived, than she was sacrificed
in a shocking manner; and, to add to the horror of
the deed, the body was flayed, and one of the bravest
young men of the nation dressed in her skin. Her fa¬
ther, ignorant of this dreadful transaction, wras invited
by the Mexicans to be present at the apotheosis of his
daughter, and went to see the solemnity, and to wor¬
ship the new divinity. He was led into the sanctuary,
where the young man stood clothed in the bloody skin
of his daughter ; but the darkness of the place prevent¬
ed him from seeing what was before him. They gave
him a censer in his hand, and some copal to begin his
worship; but having discovered by the flame of the copal
the horrible spectacle, he ran out in a detracted man¬
ner, calling upon bis people to revenge the injury 5 hut
this they were not able to do at that time nor ever after.
In the year 1352 the Mexican government was
changed from an aristocracy to a monarchy. At first
they were governed by 20 lords, bf whom one had
an authority superior to the rest. This naturally sug¬
gested the idea of monarchy ; and to this change they
were also induced by the contemptible state in which
their nation still continued, thinking that the royal
dignity w'ould confer upon it a degree of splendour
which otherwise it could not enjoy; and that by
20 having one leader, they would be better able to op-
-camapit- pose their enemies. Proceeding, therefore, to elect
in the first a king, the choice fell upon Acamapitzin, a man of
great estimation among them, and descended from
Opochtli, a noble Aztecan, and a princess of the royal
family of Colhuacan. As he was yet a bachelor, they
attempted to negociate a marriage, first with the daugh¬
ter of the lord of Tacuba, and then of the king of Az-
capozalco : but these proposals being rejected with dis¬
dain, they applied to Acolmiztli lord of Coatlichan, and
a descendant of one of the three Acolhuan princes *, who
complied with their request, and the nuptials were cele¬
brated w'ith great rejoicings.
In the mean time, tlnj Tlatclolcos, the natural rivals
of the Mexicans, resolved not to be behind them in
any thing which had the least appearance of aug¬
menting the glory of their state. They likewise,
therefore, chose a king •, but not thinking proper to
choose him from among themselves, they applied to
the king of the Tepanecas, who readily sent them
his son ; and he was crowned first king of Tlatelolco
in 1353. In this the Tlatelolcos seem to have had
a design of humbling their rivals, as well as render¬
ing themselves more respectable ; and therefore it is
probable that they had represented the Mexicans as
wanting in that respect due to the lepanecan mo¬
narch, °as having elected a king without his leave,
though at the same time they were tributaries to
ing of
lexico.
21
'lie Tlate-
ihlcos also
lioose a
I c o.
749
him. The consequence of this was, that he took a History.
resolution to double their tribute. Hitherto they v 
had paid only a certain number of fish and water-
fowl j but now they were ordered to bring also sevc' oppressed,
ral thousands of fir and willow plants to be set in the
roads and gardens of Azcapozalco, and to transport
to the court a great floating garden, which produced
vegetables of every kind known in Anahuac. This-
being accomplished with great difficulty, the king com¬
manded them next year to bring him another garden,,
with a duck and swan in it both sitting upon eggs 5 but
so, that 011 their arrival at Azcapozalco the brood might
be ready to hatch. This was also done j and the prince
had the satisfaction of seeing the young birds come out
of the eggs. The third year they were ordered to bring
a live stag along with a garden. This was more dif¬
ficult than any of the former tasks ; because they were
obliged, in order to hunt the stag, to go to the moun¬
tains of the continent, where they were in danger of tai¬
ling into the hands of their enemies : however, this also
was accomplished, and the desire of the king gratified;
In this manner the Mexicans were oppressed for no
less than 50 years. They freed themselves, however,
from all their difficulties by vigorous exertions, absurdly
ascribing to the protection of that malevolent being
whom they worshipped the glory of every deliverance.
Acamapitzin governed this city, which at that time
comprehended the whole of his dominions, for 37 years
in peace. His queen being barren, he married another
wife, but without abandoning the first; and these two,
instead of being rivals to one another, lived together in
the utmost harmony 5 the first wife taking upon herself
the charge of educating Huit'zilihuitl, the son of the
second. He had, besides, several children by other
women, and one named lizcoat/, who afterwards proved
one of the best and most renowned kings who sat on the
throne of Mexico. He is said also to have conquered
four considerable cities j but Clavigero thinks he must
in this only have been an auxiliary, it being very im¬
probable, that while he could scarce maintain his own
territories, he should think of foreign conquests.
Acamapitzin died in 1389, greatly lamented by
the Mexicans, and his death was followed by an in¬
terregnum of four months. As the deceased mo¬
narch had formerly resigned his authority into the
hands of his nobles, it was necessary that a new elec¬
tion should take place j and when this was done, the
choice fell upon Huitzilihuitl, the son of Acama- ^
pitzin. As he was still unmarried, it was resolved,
if possible, to procure him an honourable and advan-huitl the
tageous match. With this view, a deputation of second
nobility was sent to the king of Azcapozalco, re-kin§-‘
questing, in very humble terms, an alliance with one
of his daughters. The expressions made use of by
these ambassadors are said by our author to have
been particularly elegant in the Mexican language j
but it is difficult to understand how a speech made
among a people ignorant of the art of writing could
be particularly recorded at the interval of some hun¬
dreds of years after. They are as follow: “ We be¬
seech you, with the most profound respect, to take
compassion on our master and your servant Huitzili¬
huitl, confined among the thick rushes of the lake.-—
He is without a wife, and wre without a queen.—
Vouchsafe, Sir, to part with one of your jewels or
most
750
History.
MEXICO.
of Techot-
lala’s son.
most precious feathers. Give us one of your daughters,
who may come to reign over us in a country which be-
24 longs to you.”
Marries a This piece of oratory had such an effect upon the
Hiking, that he granted their request, and a Tepanecan
the Tepa- Pr'ncess 'vas conducted in great triumph to Mexico,
necans. where the marriage was solemnized with the utmost joy.
Though this princess brought him a son the first year
of their marriage, the king, in order to strengthen
himself by fresh alliances, married also the daughter of
another prince, by whom he bad Montezuma Ilhuica-
mina, the most celebrated of all the Mexican kings.
As the Mexicans advanced in wealth and power,
so did their rivals the inhabitants of Tlatelolco.—
Their first king died in 1399, leaving his subjects
greatly improved in civilization, and the city much en¬
larged and beautified. The rivalslrip which subsisted
between the two cities had indeed greatly contributed
to the aggrandizement of both. The Mexicans had
formed so many alliances by marriage w'ith the neigh¬
bouring nations, had so much improved their agricul¬
ture and floating gardens on the lake, and had built so
many more vessels to supply their extended commerce
and fishing, that they were enabled to celebrate their
secular year, answering to A. J3. 1402, with greater
magnificence than they had ever done since they left
their original country of Atztlan.
Unfortu- All this time Techotlala, the son of Quinatzin, con¬
nate reign tinned to reign in Acolhuacan, and for 20 years enjov-
ed uninterrupted tranquillity ; but being now very tar
advanced in years, and finding his end approach, he
called to him his son Ixtlilxochitl, and recommended
to him to beware of the ambitious disposition of the king
of Azcapozalco, as he was apprehensive that he might
attempt something against the peace of the empire.
His suspicions were verified ; for on the death of Te¬
chotlala, which happened in 1406, the king of Azca¬
pozalco, without making the usual submissions to the
new king, to ■whom he was a feudatory, set out for his
own territories, with a view to stir up the other feu-
datoiy princes to rebellion. Having called to him the
kings of Mexico and Tlatelolco, he told them, that
Techotlala, who had long tyrannized over that country,
being dead, he designed to procure freedom to the
princes, so that each might rule his own territory en¬
tirely independent of the king of Acolhuacan y but for
this purpose he needed their assistance, and trusted to
their well known spirit to take part with him in the
enterprise. He informed them likewise, that in order
to ensure success, he would find means to unite other
princes in the confederacy.
The new king of Acolhuacan, in the mean time,
was employed in settling the affairs of his kingdom,
and endeavouring to gain the good will of his subjects.
The combination against him was soon discovered:
but though Ixtlilxochitl was desirous of heading his
army in person, he was dissuaded from so doing by
his courtiers} so that the conduct of the war was
committed to his generals. To weaken the enemy,
they ravaged the territories of six revolted states : but,
notwithstanding this, and the superior discipline of
the royal army, the war was carried on by the rebels
with great obstinacy, their armies being constantly re¬
cruited by fresh troops in proportion to their losses.
At last, after three years of a ruinous war, the king
of Azcapozalco, finding that his resources would at Hjr^y
last fail him, sued for peace *, but with a design of ac- '-—y-*—-
complishing by' treachery what he had not yet been
able to do by force. His adversary, equally reduced
with himself, consented to a peace, though he knew
very well that the Tepanecan prince intended to ob¬
serve it no longer than suited his purpose.
In the year 1409 died Huitzilihuitl king of Mexico, Chimalpo.
who likewise left the right of electing a successor to thel,yca third
nobilitv. They made choice of his brother Chimalpo- h|nS°f
j j x lYLexiCQ
poca } and from thence it became an established law
to choose one of the brothers of the deceased king, or,
if he had no brothers, to elect one of his grandsons.
While the new prince was endeavouring to secure him¬
self on the throne, the treacherous Tezozomoc used
all means in his power to strengthen the party he had
formed against the king of Acolhuacan. In this he
was attended with such success, that the unfortunate
prince found himself reduced to the necessity of wan¬
dering among the neighbouring mountains, at the head
of a small army, accompanied by the lords of Huexotla
and Coatlichan, who remained always faithful to him.
The Tepanecans distressed him to such a degree, by
intercepting bis provisions, that he was forced to beg ^
them of bis enemies. One of bis grandsons was Distress
sent to Otompan, a rebel state, to request them to an<l
supply their king with the provisions he stood in need "j.
of, and to exhort them to abandon the cause of the caI1>
rebels, which they had espoused. No task could be
more dangerous •, yet such was the magnanimity of
the young prince’s disposition, that he readily set out
on the journey j nor was he deterred by the informa¬
tion he got that there were in the place certain Tepa¬
necans who had come on purpose to publish a proclama¬
tion from Tezozomoc. He went boldly to the most
public place of the town, and in presence of those who
published the proclamation made known his request.
This heroism, however, did not meet with the success
it deserved. His propositions were derided from the
moment they were made j hut the people did not offer
any farther insult, until one of the meaner sort threw a
stone at him, exciting others of the same stamp to put
him to death. The Tepanecans, who had hitherto
continued silent, perceiving their opportunity, joined
in the general cry to kill the prince, and began also to
throw stones. The prince attempted first to defend
himself, and afterwards to escape by flight; hut, both
being equally impossible, he fell under a shower of
stones. The Tepanecans, exulted in this act of treachery,
and soon after cut off Ixtlilxochitl himself, after having
treacherously persuaded him to a conference with two
of their captains. This perfidious act was committed
in sight of the royal army, who were too weak to re¬
venge it ; the royal corpse was saved with difficulty ;
and Nexahualcojotl, heir apparent to the crown, was
obliged to shelter himself among the bushes from the
fury of his enemies. 28
Tezozomoe having now in a great measure gained Acolhua-
his point, proceeded to pour down his troops uponcanc^
those cities and districts which had remained faithful
to the late unfortunate monarch. The people made nioc.
a most desperate defence, and killed vast numbers of
their enemies ; but at last being themselves reduced by
the calamities of war, and in danger of total extermi¬
nation, they were obliged to quit their habitations and
fly
M E X
History, fly to other countries. The tyrant, then, finding bim-
—v—J self superior to all his adversaries, gave Tezcuco in fief
to Chimalpopoca king of Mexico, Huexolla to Tla-
cacotl king of Tlatelolco j placing faithful governors
in other places, and appointing Azcapozalco, the capi¬
tal of lus own territory, the royal residence and capital
of Acolhuacan.
Prince Nezahualcojotl was present in disguise at this
disposal of his dominions, along with several other per¬
sons of distinction who were enemies of the tyrant ^
and so much was he transported with passion, that it
was with difficulty he could be restrained from killing
Tezozomoc on the spot, though this would certainly
have been done at the expence of his own life. All
the rest of the Acolhuacan empire submitted; and
Nezahualcojotl saw himself for the present deprived of
29 all hopes of obtaining the crown.
[is tyran- Tezozomoc had now attained the summit of his am-
yand bition : but instead of conciliating the minds of his
new subjects, oppressed them with new taxes 5 and be¬
ing conscious of the precarious situation in which he
stood, and tormented with remorse on account of his
crimes, fell into melancholy, and was constantly haunted
with frightful dreams. He was now become so old,
that his body no longer retained its natural heat. He
was therefore obliged to be covered up with cotton in
a great cradle, not being able to sit erect in a chair.
In this miserable condition, however, he never forgot
his tyranny or cruelty. Fi-om his cradle he issued op¬
pressive laws relating to the Acolhuacans \ and almost
with his last breath renewed his commands with regard
to Nezahualcojotl. At last he expired in the year 1422,
leaving the crown to his son Tajatzin.
he throne Tezozomoc was no sooner dead than Maxtlaton,
urped by without paying the least regard to his father’s will, be-
axtlaton. gan t0 exercise the functions of a sovereign. Though
it was the right'of Tajatzin to invite to his father’s
funeral whom he pleased, Maxtlaton took that upon
himself. Nezahualcojotl, though not invited, came
among the rest; but though Teuctzintli, brother to
Maxtlaton, insisted upon his being put to death, the
latter opposed it, as it could not then be done private¬
ly, and he hoped to find another opportunity. No
sooner were the funeral ceremonies over, however,
than Maxtlaton behaved in such a manner to his bro¬
ther Tajatzin, that the prince thought proper to re¬
tire to Chimilpopoca king of Mexico, to whom he
had been particularly recommended by his father, in
order to have his advice. This monarch, agreeable to
the character of that age and people, advised him to
invite his brother to an entertainment, and then mur¬
der him. Unluckily for them both, this discourse was
overheard by a servant, who in expectation of a reward
informed the tyrant of what he had heard: hut in¬
stead of this, Maxtlaton, pretending to disbelieve his
story, drove the informer from his presence with igno¬
miny. Notwithstanding this pretence, the tyrant had
not the least doubt of the truth of what was told him;
and therefore determined to rid himself of his brother last farewell,
without delay. This he soon accomplished in the very
same way that had been projected against himself.
Tajatzin, along with the kings of Mexico, Tlatelolco,
and some other feudatory princes, were invited by
Maxtlaton to an entertainment. The king of Mexico
prudently excused himself, but the unsuspecting/I a-
ICO.
jatzin fell into the snare. He came to the place of
entertainment, and was instantly put to death. The
company were greatly alarmed ; but Maxtlaton, hav- .
iug explained to them his reasons for so doing, they not
only excused him, but proclaimed him king ; to whicli
it is not to be doubted that their fears greatly contri¬
buted. 32
Though the king of Mexico escaped a sudden death Miserable
by his absence at this time, it was only to perish in a !^te °'^lc
mox-e slow and ignominious manner. Ihe vengeance ]\iexico-
of Maxtlaton first appeared by sending him a woman’s
dress in return to the present he sent him as a feuda¬
tory ; which being a reflection upon his courage, xvas
the highest affront that could be offered him. This
insult, however, was quickly followed by one of a
much higher nature. Having heard that one of the
Mexican prince’s wives was an extraordinary beauty,
he enjoined some Tepanecan ladies who were accu¬
stomed to visit that princess, to invite her to spend
some days with them at Azcapozalco. This being
complied with, the tyrant easily got an opportunity
of ravishing her, and then sent her back to her hus¬
band. Chimilpopoca was so much affected by this
misfortune, that he resolved to offer himself up a sa¬
crifice to his god. Maxtlaton, however, was resolved
that he should not have even this satisfaction. At
the very time of the ceremony, therefore, he sent a bo¬
dy of troops 5 who entering Mexico without resistance,
carried off the king alive, to the astonishment of the
multitude ; and who probably were so much confounded
by this unexpected adventure, that they did not think
of making any resistance.
Chimilpopoca being carried prisoner to Azcapozal¬
co, was confined in a strong wooden cage, the com¬
mon prison for criminals. Maxtlaton still was not sa¬
tisfied : he wished to get into his hands Nezahual¬
cojotl j and \vith this viewT sent a message to him, pre¬
tending that he was willing to come to an agreement
with him respecting the kingdom of Acolhuaean.
Though the prince was well assured of the tyrant’s
treacherous intentions, he went boldly to his palace,
presented himself before him, and told him that he
had heard of the imprisonment of the king of Mexico ;
he had heard also that he wished to take away his
own life ; he desired him to do so, and to gratify his 33, _
malice. Maxtlaton was so struck with this speech, ^jC.*s
that he assured the prince he had not formed any de- son by^Ne-
sign against his life, and that he neither had put tozahualco-
death the king of Mexico, nor would do so. Hea¬
then gave orders for his being properly entertained,
and even allowed him to pay a visit to the king of
Mexico in prison. The unfortunate Chimilpopoca,
after reciting his misfortunes, requested the prince not
to return to court, where they would certainly fall
upon some project for taking away his life j and ha¬
ving pathetically recommended to him the care of his
subjects, made him a present of a gold pendant and
some other jewels he wore } after which they took a
34
In the mean time, the Mexicans raised to the throne Itzcoatlrax-
Izcoatl, the son of Acamapitzin by a slave, and who s.e<*to t^le
was accounted the most prudent, just, and brave, of aU Mexico0*
the Mexican nation. His election was no less pleasing wh0 assists
to Nezahualcojotl and his party, than it was offensive Nezahual-
to Maxtlaton. An alliance was quickly concluded coiotb
between
35
by Monte¬
zuma.
M E X
between the exiled prince and the king of Mexico ;
1 Jind this was soon followed by the commencement of
hostilities on the jmrt of the former. Uis first enter-
prize was against the city of Tezcuco, which lie de¬
termined to take by assault, but wras prevented by the
submission of the inhabitants. He put to death, how¬
ever, all the officers established by the tyrant ; and all
the Tepanecans he found there. The very same day
another large city named Acolman was furiously at¬
tacked by a detachment of his army} great numbers
put to the sword, and among the rest the governor,
who was brother to Maxtlaton } and the same day also
Coatlichan was taken by the Chalcese.
The-Mexican monarch, hearing of the successes of his
ally, sent an embassy to -congratulate him upon them.
H is ambassador was a son of king Huibzilihuitl, named
Alonte%uma, who for his invincible courage and great
qualities was surnamed the man of great heart and the
Dangerous archer of heaven. The journey was extremely danger-
emlmssy 0us; but Montezuma undertook it without any fear,
undertaken accompan;cc] Jjy another nobleman. They got in safety
to the place where the prince was; but bad the misfortune
to be taken prisoners, and were carried to Chaleo ; the
lord of which city, named Toteotzin, W'as an inveterate
enemy to the Mexicans. By him he was immediately put
in close confinement, under the care of one Quateozin,
who was inviolably attached to the Mexican interest.
Orders were given to the latter to provide no suste¬
nance for the prisoner’s hut what was prescribed by his
lord, until the mode of death which they were to sufter
should be determined. Toteotzin then sent his pri¬
soners to them, that they might be sacrificed there if
they thought proper. These people, however, rejected
the proposal with disdain ; on which Toteotzin, think¬
ing to regain the favour of Maxtlaton, informed him of
the prisoners he had in his possession. But Maxtlaton
called him a double-minded traitor, and commanded
him instantly to set the prisoners at liberty. Before
this answer arrived, however, Quateozin had instructed
the prisoners how to make their escape, and directed
them also not to return by land lest they should again
he intercepted, but to embark at a certain place, and
proceed by Avater to Mexico. They followed his ad¬
vice exactly ; and having got to the place to which
they Avere directed, arrived safely at their city, to the
great surprise and joy of the inhabitants.
Toteotzin, enraged at the loss of his prisoners, put
Quateozin to a cruel death, destroying also all his fa¬
mily excepting one son and a daughter; of whom the
Maxtlaton latter fled to Mexico, where she Avas highly honoured
declares on her father’s account. Maxtlaton, too, notAvith-
war against stancling his generosity to the prisoners (which Clavi-
gero derives from mere opposition to Toteotzin), pre¬
pared to Avage a formidable war with the Mexicans,
who had agreed to unite their troops with those of the
prince. The Mexican populace, terrified at engaging
so poAverful an enemy, demanded that their king should
submit and beg for peace. So great was the tumult,
that the king himself Avas obliged to consent; ami
it required the utmost exertions of Montezuma’s elo¬
quence to persuade the people to agree to a com¬
mencement of hostilities. This being done at last, the
king next called together the chief nobility, and asked
which of them would have the courage to carry an
embassy to the king of the Tepanecans ? This adven-
2
Mexico.
T C O.
ture appeared so hazardous, that all of them kept a 'story
deep silence, until Montezuma declared himself willing —-j
to undertake the arduous enterprise. He was ordered
to propose peace to Maxtlaton, but to accept of ns
dishonourable conditions ; to which he punctually ad¬
hered. Maxtlaton refused to give any immediate an¬
swer, but promised to gi\re one next day, after he had
consulted his nobility. Montezuma, dreading somfc
treachery if he staid all night, promised to return next
day ; Avhich he did, and was told that Maxtlaton had
determined upon Avar. Montezuma then performed
the ceremony of challenging him, by presenting him
Avith certain defensive weapons, anointing his head,
and fixing feathers upon it, as was customary to do
Avith dead persons. Lastly, He protested, in the name
*>f his master, that as Maxtlaton Avould not accept of
the offered peace, he and all the Tepanecans would in¬
fallibly be ruined. Maxtlaton showed not the least
sign of displeasure, but gave Montezuma arms in like
manner to present to the king of Mexico; and direct¬
ed him, for his personal security, to return in disguise
through a small outlet from the palace. Montezuma
folloAved his advice; but as soon as he found himself
out of danger, began to insult the Tepanecan guards;
and though they rushed violently upon him, he not
only escaped from their attack, but killed one or ttvo
of them.
On his return to Mexico, the populace Avere again
thrown into the utmost consternation by the news
that'war Avas inevitable, as the chiefs of the two na¬
tions had challenged one another. They hoav request¬
ed the king to alloAv them to retire from their city, of
Avhich they supposed the ruin to he certain. The king
encouraged them Avith the hopes of victory. “ But if
Ave are conquered (replied they), what Avill become
of us ? “ If that happens (answered the king), we
arc that moment bound to deliver ourselves into your
hands, to he made sacrifices at your pleasure.” “ Be it
so (replied they)* if we are conquered ; hut if Ave ob¬
tain the victory, we and our desoendants are bound to
be tributary to you ; to cultivate your lands and those
of your nobles; to build your houses; and to carry
for yon, when you go to Avar, your arms and bag-
gage.” _ . 37
Matters being thus settled, intelligence Avas sent to He is de-
Prince Nezahualcojotl to repair Avith his army to Mexi* feated am
co, Avhich he did without delay; and the day after his 1-bled.
arrival a furious engagement took place. The Tepa¬
necan army Avas commanded by a general named Ma¬
sco tl ; Maxtlaton himself not judging it proper to quit
his capital. The soldiers on both sides fought with
the utmost bravery ; but towards night the Mexicans,
disheartened by seeing the army of their enemies con¬
tinually increasing in number, began once more to
lose their courage and talk of surrendering. The
king, greatly concerned, asked Montezuma what should
he done to dissipate the fears of the people ? That
brave prince replied, that they must fight till death;
that if they died with their arms in their hands, it
would be honourable; but to survive their defeat,
would be eternal ignominy. Nothing could be more
salutary than this advice at so critical a juncture : for
the Mexicans were already begun to implore the mer¬
cy of their enemies, and to promise to sacrifice their
chiefs, whose ambition had - brought the whole nation
into
M E X
History, into such a dilemma. On hearing this, the whole body
i v ' of nobility, with the king and Montezuma, at their
head, assaulted the enemy so furiously, that they repul¬
sed them from a ditch of which they had taken posses¬
sion ; after which, Montezuma, happening to encounter
Mazatl the Tepanecan general, struck him such a blow
on the head that he fell down lifeless. Thus the Mexi¬
cans were inspired with fresh courage, and their ene¬
mies proportionally dispirited: however, they retired
for that night to the city, in some hopes of being able
to retrieve their fortune next day. Maxtlaton encou¬
raged them by every method in his power 5 but fortune
proved still more unfavourable than the day before.
The Tepanecans were now entirely defeated, and the
city of Azcapozalco taken. Maxtlaton, who seems
not to have had the courage to fight, had not now the
presence of mind to fly. He attempted indeed to hide
himself 5 but being quickly discovered, he was beaten
to death with sticks and stones. The city was plun¬
dered, the inhabitants butchered, and the houses de-
38 stroyed by the victors.
he Tepa- This victory proved decisive in favour of the confe-
irely re-11* ^erates’ Every other place of strength in the country
need. was quickly reduced, until the Tepanecans, finding
themselves on the verge of destruction, sent an humble
embassy to the king of Mexico, requesting to be taken
under his protection, and to become tributaries to him.
Itzcoatl received them graciously ; but threatened them
with total extirpation if they violated the fidelity they
had sworn to him.
Itzcoatl, after this extraordinary success, took care
to have the above-mentioned contract ratified between
the nobility and common peole, by which the latter
were bound to perpetual services. Those who had
discouraged the soldiers in time of battle were banish¬
ed for ever from the state of Mexico 5 while Monte¬
zuma and others who had distinguished themselves by
their bravery, were rewarded with lands, as wras usual
j ^ with other conquerors.
iczalmal- Itzcoatl, now finding himself firmly seated on the
ijotl made throne of Mexico, set about performing his engagements
ing of A- t0 the Acolhuacan prince, by seating him on the throne
i uacan. ancestors. Having again joined their armies,
they marched against Huaxotla, a city which refused
to submit, even though terms of pardon were offered
them. Instead of this, they rashly ventured a battle, in
which they were entirely defeated 5 and were then fain
to send a deputation of their old men, pregnant w'omen,
&c. as was customary in cases of distress, to move the
enemy to compassion. At last all obstacles being re¬
moved, Nezanualcojotl was seated on the threrie of
Acolhuacan, the auxiliary troops were dismissed, and
Itzcoatl left at liberty to pursue his conquests, in which
he v'as still assisted by the king of Acolhuacan. The
first expedition was against Cojohuacan, and other two
Tepanecan cities, who had not only refused submission
themselves, but excited others to shake off the yoke al-
onquests S0, The wfar against them proved bloody. Three bat-
'the ties were fought, in which Itzcoatl gained no other ad-
hxicans. vantage than making the enemy retreat a little j but in
the fourth, while the two armies were hotly engaged,
Montezuma, with a body of chosen troops, which he
had placed in ambuscade, attacked the rear-guard of
the rebels with such vigour, that they were soon disor¬
dered,‘ and obliged to fly to the city. The conquerors
Vol. XIIL Part II.
1 c °. 75.
pursued them thither j and Montezuma perceiving that History,
they intended to fortify themselves in the greater tem- L—-v——
pie, frustrated their design by getting possession of it
and burning the turret. By this disaster they were so
much terrified, that they fled to the mountains south of
Cojohuacan j but even there the royal army overtook
and pursued them more than 30 miles, till they came
to another mountain, where, quite exhausted with fa¬
tigue, and seeing no means of escape, they were obli¬
ged to surrender at discretion.
Having thus happily accomplished the conquest of
Cojohuacan and the other rebellious cities, the two
kings returned to Mexico. Itzcoatl gave great part
of the Tepanecan country, with the title of king of
Tacuba, to Totoquihuatzin, a grandson of Tezozomoc,
but who does not appear to have been any way con¬
cerned in his projects against the Mexicans. An al-Alliance
liance was then formed among the three kings on the between
following terms : The king of Tacuba held his crown t^le kings
on condition of serving the king of Mexico with Acolhua00'
his troops, at any time when required j for which hecan and
was to have a fifth part of the spoils taken from theTepaneca,
enemy. The king of Acolhuacan was likewise to as¬
sist the king of Mexico in war ; and for this he was to
have a third part of the plunder, after deducting the
share of the king of Tabuca 3 and the remainder was
to belong to the king of Mexico. The kings of Ta¬
cuba and Acolhuacan, were both declared honorary
electors of the kings of Mexico j the real electors being
four nobles: and the king of Mexico was likewise
bound to assist in the wars of his allies whenever it was
demanded.
After having thus settled matters among themselves,
and rewarded their soldiers, Itzcoatl set out with Ne-
zahualcojotl for Tezcuco, "where the Acolhuacan king
was crowned with all possible ceremony. Here the
new king took every method which prudence could
suggest to establish his authority on a permanent basis 5
but while he was thus employed, the Xochimilcas,
fearing lest the Mexicans might conquer their country
as they had done that of the Tepanecans, held a coun¬
cil on what vras to be done to prevent such a disgrace.
In this council it was determined to commence hostili¬
ties against that rising state, before it should become
more formidable by new conquests. Itzcoatl was nootliercon-
sooner informed of this deteiunination, than he sent quests.
Montezuma with a great army against them. The
Xochimilcas met him with one still more numerous j
but being worse disciplined, they were quickly de¬
feated, and their city taken in a very short time af¬
ter. This conquest was followed by the reduction of
Cuitlahuac, situated on a small island in the lake of
Chaleo. Their insular situation gave them confidence
to atack the formidable power of the Mexicans. The
king was so sensible of the difficulty of this enterprise,
that he proposed to attack them with the whole force
of the alliance: Montezuma, however, with only a
small number of men of his own training, whom he
furnished with proper vessels, reduced them in seven
days- . . 43
Itzcoatl died in the year 1436, at a very advanced Montezu-
age, in the height of prosperity, and was succeeded ma I king
by Montezuma I. the greatest monarch that ever satol ^texico.
on the Mexican throne. Before his coronation, in
order to comply with the barbarous rites of his reli-
f 5 C gion,
MEXICO.
44
Chaleo ta¬
ken.
45
Tlatelolco
reduced,
and Mo-
quiliuix
made kin?
gion, lie made war upon the Chalcese, in order to pro¬
cure the prisoners who were to be sacrificed at his
coronation j and scarce was this ceremony over, when
a new war commenced, which tei'minated in the de¬
struction of that city. This quarrel happened be¬
tween the Chalcese and the Tezcucans. Two of the
royal princes of Tezcuco having gone a-hunting on
the mountains which overlook the plains of Chaleo,
while employed in the chase, and separated from their
retinue, with only three Mexican lords, fell in with
a troop of Chalcese soldiers 5 who, to gratify the
cruelty of their master, carried them all prisoners to
Chaleo. The cruel and inconsiderate tyrant who com¬
manded there instantly put them all to death : after
which he caused their bodies to be salted, dried, and
placed in an hall of his palace, where they served as
supporters to the pine torches burned there for lights
every evening. The king of Tezcuco, overwhelmed
with grief, and to the last degree exasperated at such
an inhuman act, called for the assistance of the allied
kings. The city was attacked at once by land and wa¬
ter. The inhabitants, knowing that they had no mer¬
cy to expect, fought like men in despair. Even the
old tyrant who commanded them, though unable to
walk, caused himself to be carried in a litter among the
combatants ; notwithstanding which they were totally
defeated, and the most severe vengeance executed upon
them.
Montezuma, on his return, found himself obliged
to encounter an enemy more formidable on account
of h is vicinity, than more powerful ones at a distance.
This was the king of Tlatelolco, who had formerly
conspired against the life of Itzcoatl $ and finding him¬
self d isappointed in this, had tried to I’educe his power
by entering into a confederacy with some of the
neighbouring lords. At that time his designs proved
abortive, but he resumed them in the time of Monte¬
zuma } the consequence of which was, that he was
defeated and killed. One Moquihuix was chosen in
his room 5 in whose election it is probable that Mon¬
tezuma had a considerable share. This was follow?
ed by conquests of a much more important nature.
The province of Cuihixcas, lying to the southward,
was added to his dominions, comprehending a tract
of country more than 150 miles in breadth*^ then,
turning to the westward, he. conquered another named
T^ampa/mcican. This success, however, was for a short
time interrupted by a war with Atonaltzin, lord of a
territory in the country of the Mixtacas. This prince,
puffed up on account of the great wealth lie possessed,
took it into his head that he would allow no Mexican
to travel through his country. Montezuma sent am¬
bassadors to know the reason of such strange conduct 5
but Atonaltzin gave them no other answer than show¬
ing them some part of his wealth, making a present to
the king, and desiring them from thence to observe how
much the subjects of Atonaltzin loved him ; and that
he willingly accepted of w^ar, which was to determine
whether he should pay tribute to the Mexicans or the
Mexicans to him. Montezuma having informed his al¬
lies of this insolent answer, sent a considerable army
against Atonaltzin, but had the mortification to be in¬
formed of its defeat j in consequence of which the pride
Atonaitzin was increased to a great degree. Monte¬
zuma, greatly chagrined at this first check, determined History,
to head his next army in person; but before he could' ^—*
call together another, Atonaltzin had drawn into a
confederacy with him the Huexotzincas and Tlasca-
lans, who were glad of the opportunity, as they sup¬
posed, of reducing the power of the Mexicans. Their
numbers, however, availed but little ; Montezuma in
the very first engagement totally defeated the confe- 46
derate army. The allies of Atonaltzin wrere partieu-Atonahzm
larly unfortunate j for such of them as'Were not kill-
ed in the field of battle, wrere destroyed by their own Mexican
party out of revenge for the unfortunate event of the dominions
battle. enlarged.
By this victory the Mexican monarch became mas¬
ter not only of the dominions of Atonaltzin, but of
many other neighbouring princes, against whom he
made war on account of their having put to death
some Mexican merchants or couriers without any just
cause. The conquest of Cuetlachtlan or Cotasta, how?
ever, which he attempted in 1457, proved a much more
difficult task. This province lies on the coast of the
Mexican gulf, and had been formerly inhabited by the
Olmecans, whom the Tlascalans had driven out. The
inhabitants were very numerous 5 but dreading the
power of Montezuma, called in those of Tlascala, toge¬
ther with the Huexotzincas, to their assistance. Along
■with these the allies drew the Cholulans also into the
confederacy ; so that this seems to have been the most
formidable combination that had yet been formed
against the Mexican power. Montezuma collected an
excellently equipped army 5 which, however, he did
not on this occasion command in person. It contained
a great number of persons of very high rank, among
whom were three princes of royal blood, and Moqui¬
huix king of Tlatelolco already mentioned. The com¬
bination of the three republics against Mexico was not
known at court when the army set out j but Montezu¬
ma, being informed of it soon after, sent an order to his
generals to return. This accorded so ill with the ro¬
mantic notions of valour entertained by the Mexicans,
that a consultation of the generals was held whether
they- should obey it or not. At last it was determined
that the king’s order should be obeyed ; but no sooner
was this agreed to than Moquihuix accused them all of
cowardice, and threatened, with his own troops, unas¬
sisted, to go and conquer the enemy. His speech had
such an effect upon them all, that they went to meet
the confederates. The Cotastese fought with great va-r
lour, but were unable to resist the royal forces 5 and
their allies were almost totally destroyed. Six thousand
two hundred of them were taken prisoners, and soon af¬
ter sacrificed to the Mexican god of war in the barba¬
rous manner already described. The victory was said
to have been owing principally to the valour and good
conduct of Moquihuix, insomuch that to this day a song
made in his praise on that occasion is known in Mexico.
Montezuma was so well pleased with the victory, that
he not only forgave the disobedience of his orders, but
bestowed upon Moquihuix a princess, one of his own
cousins, to wife.
During the reign of this great monarch a violent Inundation
inundation happened in Mexico. The lake, swelled ancl fanl‘“e
by the excessive rains which fell in the year 1446, pour-at ^exlC
ed its waters into the city with so much violence that
' many.
History,
48
xayacatl
i iccecds
[outezu
49
eath of
ie kings
' Acolhu-
^an and
sicuba.
5°
lateiolcos
duced,
[d the
“Skilled.
M E X
^ many houses were destroyed, and the streets inundated
to such a degree that boats were everywhere made use
of. The inundation was soon follotved by a famine.
This was occasioned by the stinting of the crop of
maize in 144^ 5 ears while young and tender being
destroyed by Irost. In 145° ^le crop was totally lost
for want of water j and in I45r» besides the unfavour¬
able seasons, there was a scarcity of seed. Hence, in
14 92, the necessities of the people became so great, that
they were obliged to sell themselves for slaves in order
to procure subsistence. Montezuma permitted them to
go to other countries for support 5 but being informed
that many sold themselves for a few days provision, he
ordered, by proclamation, that no woman should sell
herself for less than 400 ears of wheat, nor any man
for less than $oo. He opened also the public granaries
for the relief of the hnver classes 5 but nothing was able
to stop the progress of the famine.
Montezuma w'as succeeded by Axayacatl, who like
his predecessor instantly commenced a war, for no
other reason than that he might have prisoners to sacri¬
fice at his coronation. He pursued Montezuma’s plan
of conquest j in which, however, he was less successful,
many of the provinces reduced by that monarch having
revolted after his death, so that it was necessary to re¬
conquer them. On his returning successful from one
of these expeditions, he built a new temple, to which
he gave the name of Coatlon ; but the Tlatelolcos,
whose ancierit rivalship seems to have revived on the
death of Montezuma, built another in opposition,
which they called Coaxolotl. Thus the former ha¬
tred between the two nations was renewed, and a dis¬
cord took place which ended in the ruin of the Tlate¬
lolcos.
The Mexicans sustained an iiTeparable loss in 1469
and 1470 by the death of their allies the kings of Tacu-
ba and Acolhuacan.
The king of Tacuba wras succeeded by his son Chim-
alpopoca, and the Acolhuacan monarch by his son Neza-
hualpilli. A short time after the accession of the latter,
the war broke out between the Tlatelolcos and Mexi¬
cans, which ended in the destruction of the former.
King Moquihuix had been married by Montezuma to
a sister of Axayacatl, now on the throne of Mexico j
but it appears that this princess never wras greatly the
object of his affection. On the contrary, he took all
methods of expressing his dislike, either out of enmity
to herself, or envy of the superior greatness of her bro¬
ther. Not content with this, he entered into an alli¬
ance with a great number of the neighbouring states, in
order to reduce the Mexican greatness. His wife,
however, being informed of this scheme, communicated
the particulars to her brother} and soon after, being
impatient of the ill usage she received, came to Mexico
with her four sons to claim the protection of her brother.
This uncommon accident exasperated the Mexicans and
Tlatelolcos against each other to suqh a degree, that
wherever they met, they fought, abused, and murder¬
ed each other. The king of Tlatelolco prepared for
war with many horrid ceremonies, of which the drink¬
ing of human blood was one. A day was appointed
for attacking Mexico. Xiloman, lord of Colcuacan,
was to begin the attack, afterwards to pretend flight,
in order to induce the Mexicans to follow him; after
which the Tlatelolcos were to fall upon their rear.
755
History.
I c o.
For some reason, however, with which we are not ac¬
quainted, the Tlatelolcos began the attack without
waiting for Xiloman 5 the consequence of which was,
that he retired in disgust, leaving them to finish their
battle the best way they could. The engagement last¬
ed till night, when the Tlatelolcos were obliged to
retire. Axayacatl, during the night, disposed of his
troops in all the roads which led to Tlatelolco, ap¬
pointing them to meet in the market-place. The Tla¬
telolcos, finding themselves attacked on all sides, retir¬
ed gradually before the Mexicans, until at last they
were forced into the market-place, where they found
themselves worse than ever on account of its narrowness,
which did not allow them room to act. The king stood
on the top of the great temple, encouraging his men to
exert themselves against the enemy. His words, how¬
ever, had now lost their usual influence. He not only
Was not obeyed, but was reproached with cowardice
because he did not come down and fight among the rest.
At last the Mexicans arrived at the temple, and as¬
cended to the balcony where the king was. He made
a desperate defence for a little $ but by a violent push
in the breast was thrown backwards upon the steps
of the temple, and stunned or perhaps killed by the
fall.
The Tlatelolcos being thus reduced, Axayacatl next
set out on an expedition against the Matlazincas, a
tribe in the vale of Toluca, who still refused to sub¬
mit to the Mexican yoke. Having proved successful
in this expedition, he undertook to subdue also the
northern part of the valley, now called Valle d? Iv~
tla/mcan, particularly Xiquipilco, a considerable city
and state of the Otomies, whose chief was much re¬
nowned for strength and bravery. Axayacatl, who
likewise valued himself on these qualites, encounter¬
ed him in single combat. In this, however, he was Axayacatl
overmatched, and received a violent wound in the wo!m.‘*e<*
thigh ; after which he would have been taken prisoner, great dan-
had not some young Mexicans made a desperate effort ger.
for his rescue. Notwithstanding this disaster, Axaya-
catl’s army gained a complete victory, carrying off
11,060 prisoners among whom was the chief of the
Otomies himself, and two of his officers who had at¬
tacked the king. These chiefs were put to death at
an entertainment of the allied kings, the sight of their
agonies not interrupting in the least the mirth of the
feast; so much were they familiarized to the shedding
of human blood. ^
He was succeeded by his elder brother Tizoc. Is succeed-
He intended to have built a larger temple than anyed by Ti~
that had yet been seen in Mexico, though that origi-zoc*
nally built had been greatly enlarged by some of his
predecessors. For this purpose he collected a great
quantity of materials $ but before he could bring his
projects to bear, he was taken off by a conspiracy of
his subjects. During the reign of Tizoc, the Acol-
huacans made war upon the Huexotzincas, ruined
their city, and conquered their territory. Nezahual-
pilli also, the Acolhuacan monarch, though he had
already several wives, had not made any of them
queen, having wished to confer that honour upon one
of the royal family of Mexico. Tizoc readily gave
him one of his grand-daughters, who had a sister of
singular beauty named Xocolxin. The friendship be¬
twixt these twro ladies was such, that the one could
J C 2 not
51
756
History,
S3
Alniitzotl
dedicates
a temple
with a mul¬
titude of
human vic¬
tims.
54
Montczu-
M E X
not think of being separated from the other; for which
reason the new queen sought and obtained permission to
take her sister along with her to Tezcuco. Xocotzin
had not been long there before the king fell in love
with her, and married her with the title of queen like¬
wise. Soon after this second marriage, the first queen
brought forth a son named Cacamat'zin, who succeeded
him in the throne, and was afterwards taken prisoner
by the Spaniards.
Ahuitzotl, the brother of Tizoc, succeeded him in
the kingdom of Mexico. His first object was to finish
the great temple begun by his predecessor; and such
was the number of workmen, that it was completed in
.four years. During the time that it was building, the
king employed himself in making war with different
nations, reserving all the prisoners he took for victims
at the dedication of the temple. The number of pri¬
soners sacrificed at this dedication is said by Torque-
mada to have been 72,324 •, by other historians 64,060.
The miserable victims were ranged in two files, each a
mile and a half in length, terminating at the temple.
The same year another temple was built by a feuda¬
tory lord, in imitation of the great one built by the
king; at the dedication of which a vast number of
prisoners were also sacrificed. These temples were de¬
dicated in i486. In 1487 happened a violent earth¬
quake 5 and Chimalpopoca king of Acolhuacan died,
who was succeeded by Totoquihuatzin II.
Ahuitzotl died in 1502, of a disorder produced by
a contusion in his head. At the time of his death, the
Mexican empire was brought to its utmost extent. His
successor, Montezuma Xocojoi%in or Montezuma Ju¬
nior, was a person of great bravery, besides which he
wTas likewise a priest, and held in great estimation on
account of his gravity and the dignity of his deport¬
ment. His election was unanimous 5 and the nobles
congratulated themselves on the happiness the coun¬
try was to enjoy under him, little thinking how short
the duration of their happiness or of their empire was
to be.
The first care of the new monarch, as usual, was
to procure victims for the barbarous sacrifices to be
made-at his coronation. The people of Atlixco, who
had again shaken off the Mexican yoke, were the
sufferers on this occasion, being once more reduced,
though not without great loss on the part of the Mexi¬
cans, some of whose bravest officers perished in the
war. Hie ceremony of coronation was performed
with such pomp as had never been seen before in
Mexico \ but no sooner wras this ceremony over than
Montezuma began to discover a pride which nobody
had suspected before. All his predecessor’s had been
accustomed to confer offices upon persons of merit,
and< those who appeared the most able to discharge
them, without any partiality as to birth or wealth.
Montezuma, however, disapproved of the conduct of
his predecessors, under pretence that the plebeians
should be employed according to their rank; for that
in all their actions the baseness of their birth and the
meanness of their education appeared: and in conse¬
quence of this maxim he deprived all the commoners of
the offices they held about the court, declaring them
incapable of holding any for the future. All the
royal servants now were people of rank. Besides
those who lived in the palace, 600 feudatory lords and
4
I c o.
nobles came to pay court to him. They passed the jijstorv
whole day in the antichamber, where none of their ser-
vants were permitted to enter; conversing in a low
voice, and waiting the orders of their sovereign.—•
The servants of these lords were so numerous that they
occupied three small courts of the palace, and many
waited in the streets. ^
In every respect Montezuma kept up, as far as wasMagn'ifi.
possible, an extravagant appearance of dignity. His cence dis.
kitchen utensils were of the finest earthen ware, andj^ye^n
his tablecloths and napkins of the finest cotton *, butJUS 1)d ace‘
none of these ever served the emperor more than once,
being immediately made a present of to some noble¬
man. The vessels in which his chocolate and other
drinks from cocoa were prepared, were all of gold, or
some beautiful sea-shell, or naturally-formed vessels,
curiously varnished. He had also gold plate, but it
was used only on particular occasions in the temple.
The number and variety of his dishes astonished the
Spaniards. He took great delight in the cleanliness of
his own person, and of every tiling about him. He
bathed regularly every day, and had baths in all his
palaces. Every day he wore four dresses, never using
again those which he had put off, but reserving them
as largesses for the nobility, or those who had distin¬
guished themselves in war. The expence of all this
rendered him very disagreeable to a great number of
his subjects; though others were pleased with the
readiness he showed to relieve the necessities of indivi¬
duals, and his generosity in rewarding his generals and
ministers who deserved it. Among other actions
worthy of imitation, he appointed the city of Colhuacan
as an hospital for all invalids, who after having faithful¬
ly served the crown either in the civil or military line,,
required a provision on account of their age and in¬
firmities. In this place they were maintained and at¬
tended at the expence of the king.
The reign of Montezuma,, even before the arrival
of the Spaniards, was far from being sb glorious with
regard to his successes in war as those of his predeces- j,-s ^ uc
sors had been. He reduced indeed one rebellious pro-ccsVu'lwar
vince, and conquered another which had never before with Has-
been subjugated ; but in his w ar with Tlascala he wascala.
by no means successful. This was but a small repu¬
blic at no great distance from the capital, but the in¬
habitants were remarkable for their bravery and inde¬
pendent spirit. The neighbouring states, however,
who had been reduced by the Mexicans, envious of
their liberty and prosperity, exasperated the Mexicans
against them, by representing that the Tlascalans were
desirous of making themselves masters of the maritime
provinces on the Mexican gulf, and that by their com¬
merce with these provinces they were increasing their
wealth and power, and gaining the hearts of the peo¬
ple with whom they were to traffic. In consequence
of this representation, strong garrisons were placed on
the frontiers of Tlascala, to obstruct the commerce of
the inhabitants, and thus to deprive them of the means
of obtaining some of the necessaries of life. The Tla¬
scalans complained j but received no other answer than
that the king of Mexico was lord of all the world, and
that the Tlascalans must submit and pay tribute to him.
The Tlascalans returned a spirited answer to this in¬
solent speech, and began to fortify their frontier.
They had already enclosed all the lands of the repu¬
blic
M E X
History blic with intrenchraents j ami to these they now add-
—Y—1 ed a wall of six miles in length on the west side, where
an invasion was most to be apprehended ; and so well
did they defend themselves, that though they were fre¬
quently attacked by the neighbouring states in alliance
with Mexico, or subject to it, not one of them was able
to wrest a foot of ground from them. Thus a continual
series of wars and engagements took place between the
states of Mexico and this republic, which continued till
the arrival of the Spaniards.
During the remainder of Montezuma’s reign the
57
Ippvehen
j— empire was disturbed by various rebellions, of which
heMexi- t^ie accounts are not sufficiently interesting to merit
ans of the a particular detail j but in the year 1508, Monte-
rrival of zuma began to entertain apprehensions of that fatal
new event which at length overtook him. An expedition
eoP e‘ having been undertaken against a very distant region
named Amatla, the army in marching over a lofty
mountain were attacked by a furious north wind, ac¬
companied with snow ; which made great havock in the
army, many of them perishing with cold, and others
being killed by the trees rooted up by the wind. The
remains of the army continued their march to Amat¬
la, where they were almost all killed in battle. By this
and other calamities, together with the appearance of
a comet, the Mexicans were thrown into the utmost
consternation. Montezuma was so terrified by these
omens, tiiat having in vain consulted his astrologers,
he applied to the king of Acolhuacan, who was re¬
ported to be very skilful in divination. Nezahualpilli
having conferred with him upon the subject, told
Montezuma that the comet presaged some calamity
which was about to befal their kingdoms by the arrival
of a new people: but this being unsatisfactory to the
emperor, the king of Acolhuacan challenged him to
a game at foot-ball, staking the truth of his prediction
on the issue of the game. Montezuma lost the game,
but did not yet acquiesce in the truth of his prediction.
He therefore applied to a celebrated astrologer, whom
it seems he had not yet consulted ; but he confirmed
the interpretation of Nezahualpilli : for which the em¬
peror caused his house to be pulled down, and himself
^ buried in the ruins.
onquest of Mexico itself was first discovered, though imper-
lexico un- fectly, by a Spaniard named Nutiett de Balboa ; but in
ertaken 1518 the conquest of it was undertaken by a celebrated
yCoite». a(Jventurer named Ferdinando Cortes. On the 10th
of February 1519, he set sail from the Havannah in
Cuba 5 and soon landed on the island of Cozumel, on
the coast of Yucatan, discovered the preceding year.
Here he joined one of his officers named Pedro d^AU
varedo, who had arrived some days before, and collected
some booty and taken a few prisoners. But the gene¬
ral severely censured his conduct} and the prisoners
were dismissed, after they had been informed by an
Indian interpreter named Melchior, that such injuries
were entirely disagreeable to the intentions and wishes
of Cortes. Here he mustered his army, and found
that it amounted to 508 soldiers, 16 horsemen, and
109. mechanics, pilots, and mariners. Having encou¬
raged his men by a proper speech, and released, by
means of some Indian ambassadors, a Spaniard named
Jerom de. Aguilar, who had been detained a prisoner
for eight years, he proceeded to the river Tabasco,
where he hoped to be received in a friendly manner,
I c o.
as one Grijalva had been a short time before ; but,
from some unknown cause, he was violently attacked
by them: however, the superiority of the Spanish
arms soon decided the victory, and the inhabitants
were obliged to own the king of Castile as their so¬
vereign.
The Spaniards then continued their course west¬
ward, to the harbour of St Juan de Ullua 5 where they,
were met by two Mexican canoes, which carried two
ambassadors from the emperor of that country, and
showed the greatest signs of peace and amity. Their
language was unknown to Aguilar 5 but one of the
female prisoners above mentioned understood it, and
translated it into the Yucatan tongue ; after which
Aguilar interpreted the meaning in Spanish. This-
slave was afterwards named Donna Marina, and proved
very useful in their conferences with the natives. cp
At this time the Mexican empire, according to Dr State of the
Robertson, was arrived at a pitch of grandeur to eaiPa'e at
which no society had ever attained in so short a pe-1 iat tirac*
riod. Though it had subsisted only for 130 years,
its dominion extended from the north to the south
sea, over territories stretching about 500 leagues from
east to ivest, and more than 2co from north to south;
comprehending provinces not inferior in fertility, po¬
pulation, and opulence, to any in the torrid zone.—
Though by nature Montezuma possessed a good deal
of courage and resolution j yet from the first moment
that the Spaniards appeared on his coast, he discover¬
ed symptoms of timidity and embarrassment, and all
his subjects wrere embarrassed as well as himself. The
general dismay which took place on this occasion was
partly owing to the strange figure the Spaniards made,
and the prodigious power of their arms j but partly
also to the following circumstance. An opinion pre¬
vailed almost universally among the Americans, that
some dreadful calamity impended over their heads, from
a race of formidable invaders who should come from
regions towards the rising sun, to overrun and desolate
their country.
By means of his two interpreters, Donna Marina
and Aguilar, Cortes learned that the chiefs of the
Mexican embassy were deputies from Pilpatoe and
Teutiie 5 the one governor of a province under the
emperor, and the other the commander of all his forces
in that province : the purport of their embassy was to
inquire what his intentions were in visiting their coasts,
and to offer him what assistance he might need in order
to continue his voyage. Cortes, in his turn, also pro¬
fessed the greatest friendship ; and informed the ambas¬
sadors, that he came to propose matters of the utmost
consequence to the welfare of the prince and his king¬
dom } which he would more fully unfold in person to the <y0
governor and the general. Next morning, without wait- Cortes
ing for any answer, he landed his troops, his horses, and ^anijs and
his artillery j began to erect huts for his men, and t0ioitllies ^
fortify his camp.
The next day the ambassadors had a formal audi¬
ence } at which Cortes acquainted them, that he came
from Don Carlos of Austria, king of Castile, the
greatest monarch of the east, and was intrusted with
propositions of such moment that he would impart
them to none but the emperor himself, and therefore
required to be conducted immediately to the capi¬
tal. This demand produced the greatest uneasiness;
and.
camp.
History.
61
The Indi¬
ans endea-
tal, but in
vain.
62
Montezu¬
ma made
design.
758 M E X
ami the ambassadors did all in their power to dis¬
suade Cortes from his design, endeavouring to con¬
ciliate his good will by the presents sent him by
Montezuma. These they introduced with great pa-
vour to dis- rade, and consisted of line cotton cloth, of plumes of
Made him various colours, and of ornaments of gold and silver
R°!n^ t0 a considerable value, the workmanship of which ap-
peared to be as curious as the materials were rick.
But these presents served only to excite the avidity of
the Spaniards, and to increase their desire for be¬
coming masters of a country which abounded with so
many precious commodities. Cortes indeed could
scarcely restrain himself so far as to hear the argu¬
ments made use ol by the ambassadors to dissuade
him from going to the capital ; and, in a haughty,
determined tone, insisted on his former demand of
being admitted to a personal interview with their so¬
vereign.
During this conversation, some painters in the re¬
tinue of the Mexican chiefs had been diligently em¬
ployed in delineating, upon white cotton cloths, figures
of the ships, horses, artillery, soldiers, and whatever else
attracted their eyes as singular.
ma mad MTile exerting their utmost efforts in representing
acquainted a11 tliese wori(lerful t,lings» messengers were immediate-
with his J7 despatched to Montezuma with the pictures, and a
full account of every thing that had passed since the
arrival of the Spaniards, together with some European
curiosities to Montezuma ; which Cortes believed
would be acceptable on account of their novelty. The
Mexican monarchs had couriers posted at proper sta¬
tions along the principal roads ; and as these were
trained to agility by a regular education, they convey¬
ed intelligence with surprising rapidity. Though the
city in which Montezuma, resided was above 180 miles
from St Juan de Ullua, Cortes’s presents were carried
thither, and an answer returned to his demands, in a
few days. As the answer was unfavourable, Montezu¬
ma had endeavoured to mollify the Spanish general by
the richness of his presents. These consisted of the
manufactures of the country 5 cotton stuffs so fine, and
of such delicate texture, as to resemble silk j pictures of
animals, trees, and other natural objects, formed with
feathers of different colours, disposed and mingled
with such skill and elegance as to rival the works of
the pencil in truth and beauty of imitation. But
what chiefly attracted their attention, were two large
plates of a circular form j one of massive gold repre¬
senting the sun, the other of silver representing the
moon. These were accompanied with bracelets, col¬
lars, rings, and other trinkets of gold ; and that no¬
thing might be wanting which could give the Spaniards
a complete idea of what the country afforded, some
boxes filled with pearls, precious stones, and grains of
gold unwrought, as they had been found in the mines
or. rivers, were sent along with the rest. Cortes re¬
ceived all with an appearance of the most profound
respect, for Montezuma ; but when the Mexicans,
presuming upon this, informed him, that their master,
though he desired him to accept of what he had sent
as a token of his regard for the prince whom he re-
Cortes still Presented, would not give his consent that foreign
troops should approach nearer to his capital, or even
allow them to continue longer in his dominions, Cortes
declared in a manner more resolute and peremptory
3
63
Sends an
unfavour¬
able an¬
swer, but
accompa¬
nied with
rich pre¬
sents .
insists on
his de¬
mands.
I C G,
than formerly, that he must insist on his first demand j History
as he could not, without dishonour, return to his ownv—
sovereign until he was admitted into the presence of
the prince whom he was appointed to visit in his name.
The pusillanimity of the Indian monarch afforded
time to the Spaniards to take measures which would
have been out ot their power had they been vigorously
attacked on their first refusal to obey his orders.
Cortes used every method of securing the affections of
the soldiers 5 which indeed was very necessary, as
many oi them began to exclaim against the rashness
of Ins attempt in leading them against the whole force
of the Mexican empire. In a short time Teutile ar- 65
rived with another present from Montezuma, and Montezo-
together with it delivered the ultimate orders of thatma PeremP”
monarch to depart instantly out of his dominions j and^^y1'
when Cortes, instead of complying with his demands, to leave Ws
renewed his request of audience, the Mexican imme- dominions,
diately left the camp with strong marks of surprise and
resentment. Next morning, none of the natives ap¬
peared ; all friendly correspondence seemed to be at an
end, and hostilities were expected to commence every
moment. A sudden consternation ensued among the
Spaniards, and a party was formed against him by the
adherents of V elasques ", who took advantage of the oc¬
casion, and deputed one of their number, a principal of¬
ficer, to remonstrate, as if in name of the whole army,
against his rashness, and to urge the necessity of his
returning to Cuba. Cortes received the message with¬
out any appearance of emotion 5 and as he Avell. knew
the temper and wishes of his soldiery, with much com¬
placency he pretended to comply with the request now
made him, and issued orders that the army should be
in readiness next day to embark for Cuba. Upon
hearing this, the troops, as Cortes had expected, were
quite outrageous : they positively refused to comply
with these orders, and threatened immediately to choose
another general if Cortes continued to insist on their
departure.
Our adventurer was highly pleased with the dispo¬
sition which now appeared among his troops : never¬
theless, dissembling his sentiments, he declared, that
his orders for embarking had proceeded from a per¬
suasion that it was agreeable to his fellow-soldiers, to
whose opinion he had sacrificed his own 5 but now he
acknowledged his error, and was ready to resume his
original plan of operation. This speech was highly
applauded $ and Cortes, without allowing his men
time to cool, set about carrying his designs into exe-
cution. In order to give a beginning to a colony, he Villa Ric&
assembled the principal persons in his army, and by founded,
their suffrages elected a council and magistrates, in
whom the government was to be vested. The persons
chosen were most firmly attached to Cortes; and the
new settlement had the name of Villa Rica de la Vera
Cruz,; that is, the rich town of the true cross.
Before this court of his own making, Cortes did The go-
not hesitate at resigning all his authority, and wasvernment
immediately re-elected chief-justice of the colony, of.the ne'[
and captain-general of his army, with an ample com-^inCw-
mission, in the king’s name, to continue in force tilltes.
the royal pleasure should be farther known. The
soldiers eagerly ratified their choice by loud acclama¬
tions ; and Cortes, now considering himself as no
longer accountable to any subject, began to assume a
much
M E X
History, nmcli greater degree ot dignity, and to exercise more
*—  ' extensive powers than he had done before.
Cortes having thus strengthened himself as well as
he could, resolved to advance into the country j and
to this he was encouraged by the behaviour of the
cacique 01 petty prince of Zempoalla, a considerable
town at no great distance. Here he was received in
the most friendly manner imaginable, and had a re-
spect paid towards him almost equivalent to adora-
haracter. t^on" cacique informed him ot many particu-
f Monte- ^ars gating to the character of Montezuma.—He
ama given told him that he was a tyrant, haughty, cruel, and
y the ca- suspicious 5 who treated his own subjects with arro¬
gance, ruined the conquered provinces by his extor¬
tions, and often tore their sons and daughters from
them by violence 5 the former to be offered as victims
to his gods, the latter to be reserved as concubines
for himself and favourites. Cortes, in reply, artfully
insinuated, that one great object of the Spaniards in
visiting a country so remote from their own was, to
redress grievances, and to relieve the oppressed j and
having encouraged him to hope for this interposition in
due time, continued his march to Quiabislan, the terri¬
tory of another cacique, and where, by the friendly aid
of the Indians, a Spanish colony was soon formed.
During the residence of Cortes in these parts, he so
far wrought on the minds of the caciques of Zem¬
poalla and Quiabislan, that they ventured to insult
the Mexican power, at the very name of which they
had been formerly accustomed to tremble. Some of
Montezuma’s officers having appeared to levy the
usual tribute, and to demand a certain number of hu¬
man victims, as an expiation of their guilt in pre¬
suming to hold intercourse with those strangers whom
the emperor had commanded to leave his dominions ;
instead of obeying his orders, they made them pri¬
soners, treated them with great indignity, and, as their
superstition was no less barbarous than Montezuma’s,
they threatened to sacrifice them to their gods.
Though Cortes had now taken such measures as in
a manner ensured his success ; yet as he had thrown
oft all dependence on the governor of Cuba, who was
his lawful superior, and apprehended his interest at
court, he thought proper, before he set out on his in¬
tended expedition, to take the most effectual measures
against the impending danger. With this view, he
persuaded the magistrates of his colony to address a
letter to the king, containing a pompous account of
their own services, of the country they had discovered,
&.c. and of the motives which had induced them to
throw off their allegiance to the governor of Cuba,
and to settle a colony dependent on the crown alone,
in which the supreme power, civil as well as military,
had been vested in Cortes; humbly requesting their'
sovereign to ratify what had been done by his royal
authority.
Some soldiers and sailors, secretly disaffected to
Cortes, formed a design of seizing one of the brigan¬
tines, and making their escape to Cuba, in order to
give such intelligence to the governor as might en¬
able him to intercept the vessel which was to carry
the treasure and despatches to Spain. This conspiracy
was conducted with profound secrecy; but at the mo¬
ment when every thing was ready for execution, the
secret was discovered by one of the associates. The la-.
1 c o.
759
tent spirit of disaffection which Cortes was now too well History,
convinced had not been extinguished amonst his troops,i " " v~*~
gave him very great uneasiness. The only method 69
which he could think of to prevent such conspiracies
for the future was to destroy his fleet, and thus deprive fleet.
his soldiers of every resource except that of conquest:
and with this proposal he persuaded his men to comply.
M ith universal consent therefore the ships were drawn
ashore, and, after being stripped of their sails, rigging,
iron work, and w hatever else might be of use, they were
broke in pieces.
Cortes having thus rendered it necessary for his
troops to follow wherever he chose to lead, began his
inarch to Zempoalla with 500 infantry, 15 horse, and
six field pieces. The rest of his troops being less fit
for active service, he left them as a garrison in Villa
Kica, under the command of Escalante, an officer of
merit, and warmly attached to his interest. The ca¬
cique oi Zempoalla supplied him with provisions ; and
with 200 of those Indians called Tamctoes, whose of¬
fice, in a country where tame animals w’ere unknown,
was to carry burdens, and perform all manner of servile
labour. He offered likewise a considerable body of
troops; but Cortes was satisfied with 400 ; taking care,
however, to choose persons of such note, that they might
serve as hostages for the fidelity of their master.
Nothing memorable happened till the Spaniards
arrived on the confines of the republic of Tlascala.
I be inhabitants of that province were warlike, fierce,
and revengeful, and had made considerable progress
in agriculture and some other arts. They were im¬
placable enemies to Montezuma ; and therefore Cortes
hoped that it would be an easy matter for him to pro- 70
cure their friendship. With this view7, four Zem-Sends am-
poallans of high rank were sent ambassadors to Tlas-bassa<*orst.°
cala, dressed with all the badges of that office usual ofTlascaln
among the Indians. The senate were divided in their
opinions with regard to the proposals of Cortes: but
at last Magiscatzin, one of the oldest senators, and a
person of great authority, mentioned the tradition of
their ancestors, and the revelations of their priests;
that a race of invincible men, of divine origin, who
had power over the elements, should come from the
east to subdue their country. He compared the re¬
semblance which the strangers bore to the persons
figured in the traditions of Mexico, their dominion
over the elements of fire, air, and water ; he reminded
the senate of their prodigies, omens, and signals,
which had lately terrified the Mexicans, and indicated
some very important event; and then declared his
opinion, that it would be rashness to oppose a force
apparently assisted by heaven, and men who had al¬
ready proved, to the sad experience of those who op¬
posed them, that they were invincible. This orator
was opposed by Xicotencal, who endeavoured to prove
that the Spaniards were at best but powerful magi¬
cians : that they had rendered themselves obnoxious
to the gods by pulling down their images and altars
(which indeed Cortes had very imprudently done at
Zempoalla) ; and of consequence, that they might easily
be overcome, as the gods would not fail to resent such
an outrage. He therefore voted for war, and advised
the crushing of these invaders at one blow7.
The advice of Xicotencal prevailed; and in conse¬
quence of it, the ambassadors were detained; which7
giving
760
MEXICO.
History.
71
The Tlas-
ealans re¬
solve on
war. ‘
^ 72
But are de¬
feated and
sue for
peace.
giving Cortes llie alarm, he drew nearer the city of
J Tlascala. They suffered him with his army drawn up
in good order, to pass a strong wall between two moun¬
tains, which might have been very advantageously de¬
fended against him. He had not advanced far beyond
this pass, however, before a party of Tlascalans with
plumes were discovered, which denoted that an army
was in the field. These he drove before him by a de¬
tachment of six horse, obliged them to join another
party, and then reinforcing the advanced detachment,
charged the enemy with such vigour that they began to
retire. Five thousand Tlascalans then rushed out of
their hiding places, just as the infantry came up to
assist their slender body of cavalry. The enemy at¬
tacked with the utmost fury: but were so much dis¬
concerted by the first discharge of the fire-arms, that
they retreated in confusion, furnishing the Spaniards
with an opportunity of pursuing them with great
slaughter. Cortes, however, supposing that this could
not be their whole force, advanced with the utmost
caution, in order of battle, to an eminence, from whence
he had a view of the main body of the Tlascalan army
commanded by Xicotencal, consisting of no fewer than
40,000 men. By these the small army of Cortes was
entirely surrounded ; which Xicotencal no sooner per¬
ceived, than he contracted the circle with incredible
dili gence, while the Spaniards were almost overwhelm¬
ed with showers of arrows, darts, and stones. It is im¬
possible but in this case many of the Spaniards must
have perished, had it not been for the insufficiency of
the Indian weapons. This circumstance gave the Spa¬
niards a prodigious advantage over them •, and there¬
fore the Tlascalans, notwithstanding their valour and
superiority in number, could accomplish no more in the
present instance, than to kill one horse and slightly
wound nine soldiers.
The Tlascalans being taught by this, and some sub¬
sequent encounters, how much they were inferior to
the Spaniards, began to conceive them to be really
what Magiscatzin had said ; a superior order of beings,
against whom human power could not prevail. In this
extremity they had recourse to their priests, requiring
them to reveal the causes of such extraordinary events,
and to declare what means they should take to repel
such formidable invaders. The priests, after many sa¬
crifices and incantations, delivered their x’espone, That
these strangers were the offspring of the sun, procreat¬
ed by his animating energy in the regions of the east:
that, by day, while cherished with the influence of his
parental beams, they were invincible 5 but by night,
when his reviving heat was withdrawn, their vigour
declined and faded like herbs in the field, and they
dwindled down into mortal men. In consequence of
this, the Tlascalans acted in contradiction to one of
their most established maxims in war, and ventured to
attack the enemy in the night time, hoping to destroy
them when enfeebled and surprised. But the Spanish
centinels having observed some extraordinary move¬
ments among the Tlascalans, gave the alarm. Imme¬
diately the troops were under arms, and sallying out,
defeated their antagonists with great slaughter, with¬
out allowing them to approach the camp. By this dis¬
aster the Tlascalans were heartily disposed to peace ;
but they were at a loss to form an adequate idea of
the enemies they had to deal with. They could not
Hr lory.
73
ascertain the nature of these surprising beings, or whe¬
ther they were really of a benevolent or malignant dis¬
position. There were circumstances in their behaviour
which seemed to favour each opinion. On the one
hand, as the Spaniards constantly dismissed the pri¬
soners whom they took, not only without injury, but
often with presents of European toys, and renewed
their offers of peace after every victory; this lenity
amazed people accustomed to the exterminating system
of war knowm in America, and who sacrificed and de¬
voured without mercy all the captives taken in battle;
and disposed them to entertain sentiments favourable
to their humanity. But, on the other hand, as Cortes
had seized 50 of their countrymen who brought pro¬
visions to their camp, and cut off their heads 5 this
bloody spectacle, added to the terror occasioned by
the fire-arms and horses, filled them with dreadful ideas
of their ferocity. Accordingly they addressed them
in the following manner: “ If (said they) you are
divinities of a cruel and savage nature, we present to
you five slaves, that you may drink their blood and eat
their flesh. It you are mild deities, accept an offer¬
ing of incense and variegated plumes. If you are
men, here is meat, bread and fruit, to nourish you.” Which is
After this address, the peace was soon concluded, to granted,
the great satisfaction of both parties. The Tlascalans
yielded themselves as vassals to the crown of Castile,
and engaged to assist Cortes in all his operations; while
he took the republic under his protection, and promised
to defend their persons and possessions from injury and
violence.
Cortes left no method untried to gain the favour and
confidence of the Tlascalans j which, however, he had
almost entirely lost, by his untimely zeal in destroying
their idols as lie had done those of Zempoalla. But he
was deterred from this rash action by his chaplain
lather Bartholomew de Olmedo •, and left the Tlasca¬
lans in the undisturbed exercise of their superstition,
requiring only that they should desist from their horrid , 74
practice of offering human victims. As soon as fiis^nuesWs^
troops were fit for service, he resolved to continue hismarchfor
march towards Mexico, notwithstanding the remon-Mexico,
sti’ances of the Tlascalans, who looked upon his destruc¬
tion as unavoidable if be put himself into the power of
such a faithless prince as Montezuma. But the empe¬
ror, probably intimidated with the fame of his exploits,
had resolved to admit his visit j and informed Cortes that
he had given orders for his friendly reception at Cholula,
the next place of any consequence on the road to Mexico. 75
Cortes was received with much seeming cordiality 3 Trcac^cr^
but 6000 Tlascalan troops who accompanied him were o'and
obliged to remain without the town, as the CholulanSthe Cholu-
refused to admit their ancient enemies within their pre-Ians,
cincts. Aet two of these, by disguising themselves, got
into the city, and acquainted Cortes that they observed
the w omen and children belonging to the principal citi¬
zens retiring every night in a great hurry, and that six
children had been sacrificed in the great temple 3 a sign
that some warlike enterprise was at band. At the same
time Donna Marina, the interpreter, received informa¬
tion from an Indian woman of distinction, whose con¬
fidence she bad gained, that the destruction of the Spa¬
niards was concerted ; that a body of Mexican troops
lay concealed near the town 3 that some of the streets
were bai’ricaded, in others deep pits or trenches were
dug.
77
Disaffec¬
tion of
Montezu¬
ma’s sub¬
lets.
M E X
TlFstory. ant^ lightly covered over, as traps into which the
u—y—«-J horse might fall j that stones and missile weapons were
collected on the tops of the temples, with which to
overwhelm the infantry j that the fatal hour was already
at hand, and their ruin unavoidable. Cortes, alarmed
at this news, secretly arrested three of the chief priests,
Severe pu- fr°m whom he extorted a confession that confirmed the
nishmentef intelligence he had already received. As not a mo-
the Cholu- ment was to be lost, he instantly resolved to prevent his
Ians. enemies, and to inflict on them such dreadful vengeance
as might strike Montezuma and his subjects with terror.
On a signal given, the troops rushed out, and fell
upon the multitude, destitute of leaders, and so much
astonished, that the weapons dropped from their hands,
and they stood motionless, and incapable of defence.
While the Spaniards attacked them in front, the Tlas-
calans did the same in the rear } the streets were filled
with slaughter •, the temples, which afforded a retreat to
the priests and some leading men, were set on fire, and
they perished in the flames. At length the carnage
ceased, after the slaughter of 6000 Cholulans, without
the loss of a single Spaniard. Cortes then released the
magistrates j and reproaching them bitterly for their
intended treachery, declared, that as justice was now
appeased, he forgave the offence ; but required them
to recal the inhabitants who had fled, and re-establish
order in the town.
From Cholula, Cortes advanced directly towards
Mexico j and throughout the whole of his journey was
entertained with accounts of the oppressions and cruel¬
ty of Montezuma. This gave him the greatest hope
of accomplishing his design *, as he now perceived that
the empii*e was entirely divided, and no sort of unani¬
mity prevailed among them. No enemy appeared to
check his progress. Montezuma was quite irresolute j
and Cortes was almost at the gates of the capital be¬
fore the emperor had determined whether to receive
him as a friend or oppose him as an enemy. But as
no sign of open hostility appeared, the Spaniards, with¬
out regarding the fluctuations of Montezuma’s senti¬
ments, continued their march to Mexico, with great
circumspection and the strictest discipline, though with¬
out seeming to suspect the prince whom they were about
to visit.
Meetin of When they drew near the city, about IOOO persons
tortesand "ho appeared to be of distinction, came forth to meet
Montezu- them, adorned with plumes, and clad in mantles of fine
ma. cotton. Each of these, in his order, passed by Cortes,
and saluted him according to the mode deemed most
respectful and submissive in their country. Ihey an¬
nounced the approach of Montezuma himself, and soon
after his harbingers came in sight. There appeared
first 200 persons in an uniform dress, with large plumes
of feathers, alike in fashion, marching two and two,
in deep silence, barefooted, with their eyes fixed on the
ground. These were followed by a company ol higher
rank, in their most showy apparel : in the midst of
whom was Montezuma, in a chair dr litter richly or¬
namented with gold and feathers of various colours.
Four of his principal favourites carried him on their
shoulders, others supported a canopy of curious work¬
manship over his head. Before him marched three
officers with rods of gold in their hands, which they
lifted up on high at certain intervals *, and at that sig¬
nal all the people bowed their heads, and hid their
VOL. XIII. Part II. f
7S
I C 0.
761
faces, as unworthy to look on so great a monarch.
When he drew near, Cortes dismounting, advanced
towards him with officious haste, and in a respectful
posture. At the same time Montezuma alighted from
his chair, and leaning on the arms of two of his near
relations, approached with a slow and stately pace, his
attendants covering the streets with cotton cloths, that
he might not touch the ground. Cortes accosted him
with profound reverence, after the European fashion.
He returned the salutation, according to the mode of
his country, by touching the earth with his hand, and
then kissing it. This ceremony appeared such amazing
condescension in a proud monarch, who scarcely deign¬
ed to consider the rest of mankind as of the same species
with himself, that all his subjects firmly believed those
persons, before whom he humbled himself in this man¬
ner, to be something more than human. Accord¬
ingly, as they marched through the crowd, the Spa¬
niards frequently, and with much satisfaction, heard
themselves denominated teules, or divinities. Nothing
material passed in this first interview. Montezuma con¬
ducted Cortes to the quarters which he had prepared
for his reception } and immediately took leave of him
with a politeness not unworthy of a court more refined:
“ You are now (says he), with your brothers, in your
own house } refresh yourselves after your fatigue, and
he happy until I return.” The place allotted to the
Spaniards for their lodging was a house built by the fa¬
ther of Montezuma. It was surrounded by a stone
wall, with towers at proper distances, which served for
defence as well as for ornament; and its apartments
and courts were so large as to accommodate both the
Spaniards and their Indian allies. The first care of
Cortes was to take precautions for his security, by plant¬
ing the artillery so as to command the different avenues
which led to it, by appointing a large division of his
troops to be always on guard, and by posting centinels
at proper stations, with injunctions to observe the same
vigilant discipline as if they were within sight of an
enemy’s camp.
In the evening Montezuma returned to visit his
guests with the same pomp as in their first interview 5
and brought presents of such value, not only to Cortes
and to his officers, but even to the private men, as
proved the liberality of the monarch to be suitable to
the opulence of his kindom. A long conference en¬
sued, in which Cortes learned what was the opinion of
Montezuma with respect to the Spaniards. It wTas an
established ti'adition, he told him, among the Mexicans,
that their ancestors came originally from a remote re¬
gion, and conquered the provinces now subject to his
dominion •, that after they were settled there, the great
captain who conducted this colony returned to his own
country, promising, that at some future period his de¬
scendants should visit them, assume the government,
and reform their constitutions and laws : that, Irom
what he had heard and seen of Cortes and his followers,
he was convinced that they were the very persons
whose appearance their prophecies taught them to ex¬
pect ; that accordingly he had received them, not as
strangers, but as relations of the same blood and pa¬
rentage, and desired that they might consider them¬
selves as masters in his dominions ; for both himself and
his subjects should be ready to comply with their will,
and even to prevent their wishes. Cortes made a re-
5 d piy
History.
762
MEXICO.
History, ply in his usual style with respect to the dignity and
“""■■v power of his sovereign, and his intention in sending
him into that country; artfully endeavouring so to
frame his discourse, that it might coincide as much as
possible with the idea which Montezuma had formed
concerning the origin of the Spaniards. Next morn¬
ing, Cortes and some of his principal attendants were
admitted to a public audience of the emperor. The
three subsequent days were employed in viewing the
city} the appearance of which, so far superior in the
order of its buildings and the number of its inhabi¬
tants to any place the Spaniards had beheld in Ame¬
rica, and yet so little resembling the structure of an
European city, filled them with surprise and admira¬
tion. ,
Mexico is situated in a large plain, environed by
79
Descrip¬
tion of the mountains of such height, that though within the torrid
Mexico zone> the temperature of its climate is mild and health¬
ful. All the moisture which descends from the high
grounds is collected in several lakes, the two largest of
which, of about 90 miles in circuit, communicate with
each other. The waters of the one are fresh, those of
the other brackish. On the banks of the latter, and
on some small islands adjoining to them, the capital of
Montezuma’s empire was built. The access to the city
was by artificial causewrays or streets, formed of stones
and earth, about 30 feet in breadth. As the waters of
the lake, during the rainy season, overflowed the flat
country, these causeways were of considerable length.
That of Tacuba on the west a mile and a half j that of
Tezcuco on the north-west three miles ; that of Cuoya-
can towards the south six miles. On the east there was
no causeway, and the city could be approached only by
canoes. In each of these causeivays were openings at
proper intervals, through which the waters flowed 5 and
over these beams of timber were laid, which being co¬
vered with earth, the causeway or street had everywhere
an uniform appearance. As the approaches to the city
were singular, its construction was remarkable. Not
only the temples of their gods, but the houses belonging
to the monarch, and to persons of distinction, Avere of
such dimensions, that in comparison Avith any other
buildings Avhich had been discovered in America, they
might be termed magnificent. The habitations of the
common people Avere mean, resembling the huts of
other Indians. But they Avere all placed in a regular
manner, on the banks of the canals Avhich passed through
the city, in some of its districts, or on the sides of the
streets which intersected it in other quarters. In seAre-
ral places Avere large openings or squares, one of which,
allotted for the great market, is said to have been so
spacious that 40,000 or 50,000 persons carried on
traffic there. In this city, the pride of the Ncav
World, and the noblest monument of the industry and
art of man, Avhile unacquainted Avith the use of iron,
the Spaniards, Avho are most moderate in their compu¬
tations, reckon that there Avere at least 60,000 inhabi¬
tants.
But hoAV much soever the novelty of those objects
of the Spa-might amuse or astonish the Spaniards, they felt the
mards. utmost solicitude Avith respect to their own situation.
From a concurrence of circumstances, no less unexpect¬
ed than favourable to their progress, they had been
alloAved to penetrate into the heart of a poAverful king-
dom, and were now lodged in its capital, without hav-
80
Uneasiness
ing once met with open opposition from its monarch. jjjst
The Tlascalans, however, had earnestly dissuaded them l—— —, j
from placing such confidence in Montezuma as to en¬
ter a city of such a peculiar situation as Mexico, where
that prince Avould have them at mercy, shut up as it
Avere in a snare, from which it Avas impossible to escape.
They assured them that the Mexican priests had, in
the name of the gods, counselled their sovereign to ad¬
mit the strangers into the capital, that he might cut
them off there at one bloxv Avith perfect security.
The Spaniards iioav perceived, too plainly, that the
apprehensions of their allies Avere not destitute of foun¬
dation \ that, by breaking the bridges placed at certain
intervals on the causeways, or by destroying part of
the causeAvays themselves, their retreat Avould be ren¬
dered impracticable, and they must remain cooped up
in the centre of a hostile city, surrounded by multi¬
tudes sufficient to overwhelm them, and without a pos¬
sibility of receiving aid from their allies. Sr
Before he set out from Cholula, Cortes had received Some hostr-
advice from Villa Rica, that Qualpopoca, one of thebtiesbe-
Mexican generals on the frontiers, having assembled an *weef ^
army in order to attack some of the people whom the
Spaniards had encouraged to throAV off the Mexican cans,
yoke, Escalante had marched out Avith part of the gar¬
rison to support his allies; that an engagement had en¬
sued, in which, though the Spaniards were victorious,
Escalante, Avith seven of his men, had been mortally
Avounded, his horse killed, and one Spaniard had been
surrounded by the enemy and taken alive 5 that the
head of this unfortunate captive, after being carried in
triumph to different cities, in order to convince the
people that their invaders Avere not immortal, had been
sent to Mexico. Cortes, though alarmed Avith this
intelligence, as an indication of Montezuma’s hostile
intentions, had continued his march. But as soon as he
entered Mexico he became sensible, that, from an excess
of confidence in the superior valour and discipline of
his troops, as a veil as from the disadvantage of having
nothing to guide him in an unknoAvn country but the
defective intelligence which he received from people
Avith Avhom his mode of communication Avas very im¬
perfect, he had pushed forward into a situation, Avhere
it Avas difficult to continue, and from which it was dan¬
gerous to retire. Disgrace, and perhaps ruin, Avas the
certain consequence of attempting the latter. The suc¬
cess of his enterprise depended upon supporting the
high opinion Avhich the people of New Spain had form¬
ed Avith respect to the irresistible poAver of his arms.
Upon the first symptom of timidity on his part, their
veneration would cease, and Montezuma, whom fear
alone restrained at present, Avould let loose upon him
the Avhole force of his empire. At the same time, he
knew that the countenance of his OAvn sovereign Avas to
be obtained only by a series of victories j and that no¬
thing but the merit of extraordinary success could screen
his conduct from the censure of irregularity. From all
these considerations, it Avas necessary to maintain his
station, and to extricate himself out of the difficulties in
which one bold step had involved him, by venturing
upon another still bolder. The situation was trying, g2
but his mind Avas equal to it and after revolving theCortesre-
mattefi Avith deep attention, he fixed upon a plan no solves to
less extraordinary than daring. He determined to seize seize Mon-
Montezuma in his palace, and carry him a prisoner t°^zll™j^
the us i)a
M E X
tlie Spanish quarters. From the superstitious veneration
of the Mexicans for the person of their monarch, as well
as their implicit submission to his will, he hoped, by
having Montezuma in his power, to acquire the supreme
direction of their affairs j or at least, with such a sacred
pledge in his hands, he made no doubt of being secure
from any effort of their violence.
This he immediately proposed to his officers. The
timid startled at a measure so audacious, and raised ob¬
jections. ri he more intelligent and resolute, conscious
that it was the only resource in which there appeared
any prospect of safety, warmly approved of it, and
brought over their companions so cordially to the same
opinion, that it was agreed instantly to make the at¬
tempt. At his usual hour of visiting Montezuma,
Cortes went to the palace, accompanied by Alvarado,
Sandoval, Lugo, Velasquez de Leon, and Davila, five
of his principal officers, and as many trusty soldiers.
Thirty chosen men followed, not in regular order, but
sauntering at some distance, as if they had no object
but curiosity ; small parties were posted at proper in¬
tervals, in all the streets leading from the Spanish quai'-
ters to the court 5 and the remainder of his troops,
with the Tlascalan allies, were under arms, ready to
sally out on the first alarm. Cortes and his attendants
were admitted without suspicion *, the Mexicans retir¬
ing, as usual out of respect. He addressed the mo¬
narch in a tone very different from that which he had
employed in former conferences; reproaching him bit¬
terly as the author of the violent assault made upon the
Spaniards by one of his officers, and demanding public
reparation for the loss which he had sustained by the
death of some of his companions, as well as for the in¬
sult offered to the great prince whose servants they
were. Montezuma, confounded at this unexpected ac¬
cusation, and changing colour either from the consci¬
ousness of guilt, or from feeling the indignity with
which he was treated, asserted his own innocence with
great earnestness ; and, as a proof of it, gave orders in¬
stantly to bring Qualpopoca and his accomplices pri¬
soners to Mexico. Cortes replied, with seeming com¬
plaisance, that a declaration so respectable left no doubt
remaining in his own mind j but that something more
was requisite to satisfy his followers, who would never
be convinced that Montezuma did not harbour hostile
intentions against them, unless, as an evidence of his
confidence and attachment, he removed from his own
palace and took up his residence in the Spanish quar¬
ters, where he should be served and honoured as be¬
came a great monarch. The first mention of so strange
a proposal bereaved Montezuma of speech, and almost
of motion. At length he haughtily answered, That
persons of his rank were not accustomed voluntarily to
give up themselves as prisoners; and were he mean
enough to do so, his subjects would not permit such an
affront to be offered to their sovereign.” Cortes, un¬
willing to employ force, endeavoured alternately to
soothe and intimidate him. The altercation became
warm: and having continued above three hours, Ve¬
lasquez de Leon, an impetuous and gallant young man,
exclaimed with impatience, “ Why waste more time
in vain ? Let us either seize him instantly, or stab him
to the heart.” The threatening voice and fierce ges¬
tures with which these words were uttered, struck Mon¬
tezuma. The Spaniards, he was sensible, had now pro-
I C O. 763
ceeded so far, as left him no hope that they would re- History,
cede. His own danger was imminent, the necessity —w™—1
unavoidable. He saw both j and abandoning himself
to his fate, complied with their request.
His officers were called. He communicated to them The empe-
lus resolution. Though astonished and afflicted, they ror carried
presumed not to question the will of their master, butt(? S,)a"
carned him in silent pomp, ail bathed 111 tears, to the tcrs
Spanish quarters.
They at first pretended to treat Montezuma with
great respect 5 hut soon took care to let him know
that he was entirely in their poiver. Cortes wished
that the shedding the blood of a Spaniard should ap¬
pear the most heinous crime that could be commit¬
ted 5 and therefore not only took a most exemplary
vengeance on those who had been concerned in the af¬
fair of Villa Rica, hut even put the emperor himself in
chains till the execution of the Mexican general was 54
over. By these, and other insults, he at last gained Cortes
entirely the ascendant over this unhappy monarch 5 ndcs the
and he took care to improve his opportunity to thecmlme’
utmost. He sent his emissaries into different parts of
the kingdom, accompanied with Mexicans of distinc¬
tion, who might serve both to guide and to protect
them. They visited most of the provinces, viewed
their soil and productions, surveyed with particular
care the districts which yielded gold or silver, pitched
upon several places as proper for future colonies, and
endeavoured to prepare the minds of the people for
submitting to the Spanish yoke : and while they were
thus employed, Cortes, in the name and by the au¬
thority of Montezuma, degraded some of the principal
officers in the empire, whose abilities or independent
spirit excited his jealousy; and substituted in their
place persons who he imagined would be more obse¬
quious. One thing, however, was still wanting to com¬
plete his security. He wished to have such a command
of the lake as might ensure a retreat, if, either from
levity or disgust, the Mexicans should take arms against
him, and break down the bridges or causeways, in or- g-
der to enclose him in the city. In order to obtain By a pre-
this without giving disgust to the emperor or his court, tenc.e* he
Cortes artfully inflamed the curiosity of the Indians ',ljt'ulls
with accounts of the Spanish shipping, and those float-Tuild two
ing palaces that moved with such velocity on the wa- brigantines
ter, without the assistance of oars j and when he found 011 the lake,
that the monarch himself was extremely desirous of
seeing such a novelty, he gave him to understand,
that nothing was wanting to his gratification besides
a few necessaries from Vera Cruz, for that he had
workmen in his army capable of building such vessels.
The bait took with Montezuma 5 and he gave imme¬
diate orders that all his people should assist Cortes in
whatever he should direct concerning the shipping.
By this means, in a few days, two brigantines were
got ready, full rigged and equipped ; and Montezuma
was invited on board, to make the first trial of their
sailing, of which he could form no idea. According¬
ly he embarked for this purpose, and gave orders for
a great hunting upon the water, in order that all his
people might be diverted with the novelty presented
by the Spaniards. On the day appointed, the royal
equipage was ready early in the morning ; and the
lake was covered with a multitude of boats and canoes
loaded with people. The Mexicans had augmented
5 D 2 the
'iH
History.
85
Montezu¬
ma owns
himself a
vassal to
the king of
Spain.
87
The Spani¬
ards divide
their trea-
M E X
the number of their rowers on board the royal barges,
with an intention to disgrace the Spanish vessels, which
they regarded as clumsy, unwieldy, and heavy. But
they were soon undeceived j a fresh gale started up,
the brigantines hoisted sail, to the utter astonishment of
all the spectators, and soon left all the canoes behind ;
while the monarch exulted in the victory of the Spani¬
ards, without once considering that now he had effectu¬
al! rivetted his own chains.
Cortes having obtained this important point, resolv¬
ed to put the condescension of the emperor to a trial
still more severe. He urged Montezuma to acknow¬
ledge himself a vassal to the crown of Castile j to hold
his crown of him as superior, and to subject his domi¬
nions to the payment of an annual tribute. With this
requisition, humiliating as it was, Montezuma com¬
plied. He called together the chief men of his em¬
pire, and, in a solemn harangue, reminded them of the
traditions and prophecies which led them to expect the
arrival of a people sprung from the same stock with
themselves, in order to take possession of the supreme
power ; he declared his belief that the Spaniards were
this promised race $ and that therefore he recognised
the right of their monarch to govern the Mexican em¬
pire, would lay his crown at his feet, and obey him as
a tributary. While uttering these words, Montezuma
discovered how deeply he was affected in making such
a sacrifice. Tears and groans frequently interrupted
his discourse. The first mention of such a resolution
struck the assembly dumb with astonishment. This
was followed by a sullen murmur of sorrow mingled
with indignation \ which indicated some violent erup¬
tion of rage to be near at hand. This Cortes foresaw,
and seasonably interposed to prevent it, by declaring
that his master had no intention to deprive Montezuma
ot the royal dignity, or to make any innovation upon
the constitution and laws of the Mexican empire. This
assurance, added to their dread of the Spanish arms, and
the authority of their monarch’s example, extorted the
consent of the assembly } and the act of submission and
homage Avas executed with all the formalities which the
Spaniards pleased to prescribe.
Montezuma, at the request of Cortes, accompa¬
nied this profession of fealty and homage with a mag¬
nificent px-esent to his new sovereign ; and, after his
example, his subjects bi'ought in very liberal conti'i-
butions. The Spaniards then collected all the trea¬
sure which had been either voluntarily bestowed upon
them at different times by Montezuma, or had been
extorted from his people under various pretences }
and having melted the gold and silver, the value
of these amounted to 600,000 pesos. The soldiers
were impatient to have it divided ; and Cortes com¬
plied with their desire. A fifth of the whole was
set apart as the tax due to the king. A nother fifth was
allowed to Cortes as commander. The sums advan¬
ced by the governor of Cuba, who had originally fit¬
ted out the expedition, were then deducted. The re¬
mainder was then divided among the army, including
the garrison of Vera Cruz, in proportion to their dif¬
ferent ranks ) and after so many deductions, the share
of a private man did not exceed 100 pesos. This sum
fell so far below their sanguine expectations, that it i'e-
quired all the address, and no small exex-tions of the li¬
berality of Cortes, to prevent an opeo mutiny. How-
i c a
ever, he at last restored tranquillity j but had no sooner j£jat0[_
escaped this danger, than he involved himself by his ——
imprudent zeal for x’eligion, in one much worse. Mon¬
tezuma, though often importuned, had obstinately re¬
fused to change his religion, or abolish the supei-sti-
tious rites which had been for such a long time practi- ss
sed throughout his dominions. This at last transport-cortes at
ed the Spaniards with such rage, that, in a sally of tempts to
zeal, he led out his soldiei's in order to throw down the destroy th^
idols in the great temple by force. But the priests^l^lcan
taking arms in defence of their altars, and the people
crowding with great ardour to support them, Cortes’s
prudence overruled his zeal, and induced him to desist
from his rash attempt, after dislodging the idols from one
of the shrines, and placing in their stead an image of
the Virgin Mary.
From this moment the Mexicans began to meditate pr(V
the expulsion or the destruction of the Spaniai'ds. The duces age-
priests and leading men held frequent meetings xvith neral disaf-
Montezaima for this purpose. But as any violent at-tec’-1011,
tempt might have proved fatal to the captive monarch,
it was thought proper first to try more gentle means.
Having called Cortes into his presence, he observed,
that now, as all the purposes of his embassy wTere fully
accomplished, the gods had declared their will, and the
people signified their desire, that he and his followers 0
should instantly depart out of the empire. W ith this The Spa-
he required them to comply, or unavoidable destine-niards arc
tion would fall suddenly on their heads. This unex-comnian^*
pected requisition, as well as the manner in which ited de'
was delivered, alarmed Cortes. However, he supposed1
that more might be gained by a feigned compliance
than by open resistance ; and therefore replied with
great composure, that he had already begun to pi’epare
for his return ; but as he had destroyed the vessels in
which he arrived, some time was requisite for building
other ships. This appeared reasonable 5 and a number
of Mexicans were sent to Vera Cruz to cut down tim¬
ber, and some Spanish carpenters were appointed to su¬
perintend the work.
Cortes flattered himself, that, during this interval, he An anna-
might either find means to avert the threatened danger,ment sent
or receive such reinforcements as would enable him toj^jn^tUba
defend himself. Nine months had now elapsed since Cortes.
Portocarrero andMontejo had sailed with his despatches
to Spain j and he daily expected a return, with a con-
finnation of his authority from the king, without which
all that he had done sex*ved only to mark him out as an
object of punishment. W7hile he remained in great
anxiety on this account, news were brought that some
ships had appeared on the coast. These were imagined
by Cortes to be a reinforcement sent him from Spain :
but his joy was of short continuance, for a courier very
soon arrived from Vera Cruz, with certain information
that the armament was fitted out by Velasquez, the go¬
vernor of Cuba 5 and instead of bringing succours,
threatened them with immediate destruction.
Velasquez had been excited to this hostile measure
chiefly through the indiscretion, or rather treachery,
of the messengers of Cortes j who, contrary to his ex¬
press injunctions, had landed on the island of Cuba,
and given intelligence of all that had passed : and Ve¬
lasquez, transported with rage at hearing of the pro¬
ceedings of Cortes, had now sent against him this ai--
mament) consisting of 18 ships, which carried 80 horse¬
men,
History.
91
rhich is
et'eatcd
|vthat
eneral.
M E X
men, 800 infantry, of which 80 were musketeei’s, ami
' 120 cross bowmen, commanded by a brave officer named
Pamphilo de Narvaez; whose instructions were, to seize
Cortes and his principal officers, to send them prisoners
to him, and then to complete the discovery and conquest
of the country in his name. This proved a most afflict¬
ing piece of news to Cortes.
Having now no resource but in -war, he left 150
men under the command of Pedro de Alvarado, an
officer of great bravery, and much respected by the
Mexicans, to guard the capital and the captive em¬
peror ; while he himself marched with the remain¬
der, to meet his formidable opponent, who had ta¬
ken possession of Zempoalla. Even after being i'e-
inforced by Sandoval his governor of Vera Cruz, the
force of Cortes did not exceed 250 men. He hoped
for success chiefly from the rapidity of his motions
and the possibility of surprising his enemies 5 and as
he chiefly dreaded their cavalry, he armed his soldiers
with long spears, accustoming them to that deep and
compact arrangement which the use of this formidable
weapon enabled them to assume. As he advanced,
however, he repeated his proposals of accommoda¬
tion 5 but these being constantly rejected, and a price
set upon his head, he at last attacked Narvaez in
the night-time, entirely defeated and took him pri¬
soner, obliging all his troops to owra allegiance to him¬
self.
Nothing could be more seasonable than this victory,
by which Cortes found his army very considerably in¬
creased •, for most of the soldiers of Narvaez chose
rather to follow Cortes than to return to Cuba, whi¬
ther the conqueror had oftered to send them if they
angerous chose. His affairs at Mexico, in the mean time,
tuation of were in the utmost danger of being totally ruined 5
C d^l'f an(^ t^S ^ec^s‘ve v^ct01T ^een delayed but a few
Mexico days longer, he must have come too late to save his
companions. A short time after the defeat of Nar¬
vaez, a courier arrived from Mexico with the disagree¬
able intelligence that the Mexicans had taken arms •,
and having seized and destroyed the two brigantines
which he had built in order to secure the command
of the lake, had attacked the Spaniards in their quar¬
ters, killed some, and wounded many more, burnt
their magazine of provisions, and, in short, carried on
hostilities with such fury, that though Alvarado and
his men defended themselves with undaunted reso¬
lution, they must either be cut off by famine, or sink
under the multitude of their enemies. This revolt
was excited by motives which rendered it still more
alarming. On the departure of Cortes for Zempo¬
alla, the Mexicans flattered themselves, that the long-
expected opportunity of restoring their sovereign to
liberty, and driving out the Spaniards, was arrived )
and consultations were accordingly held for bringing
about both these events. The Spaniards in Mexico,
conscious of their own weakness, suspected and dread¬
ed these machinations } but Alvarado, who had nei¬
ther the prudence nor the address of Cortes, took the
worst method imaginable to overcome them. Instead
of attempting to soothe or cajole the Mexicans, he
waited the return of one of their solemn festivals, w'hen
the principal persons in the empire were dancing, ac¬
cording to custom, in the court ot the great temple 5
he seized all the avenues which led to it; and, allu-
93
I c o.
red partly by the rich ornaments which they wore in
honour of their gods, and partly by the facility of
cutting oft’ at once the authors of that conspiracy
which he dreaded, he fell upon them, unarmed and
unsuspicious of danger, and massacred a great num¬
ber ; none escaping but such as made their way
over the battlements of the temple. An action so
cruel and treacherous filled not only the city, but the
whole empire, with indignation and rage; and the
Mexicans immediately proceeded in the manner above
mentioned.
Cortes advanced with the utmost celerity to the re¬
lief of his distressed companions : but as he passed
along, had the mortification to find that the Spa¬
niards were generally held in abhorrence. The princi¬
pal inhabitants had deserted the towns through which
he passed ; no person of note appeared to meet him
with the usual respect; nor were provisions brought
to his camp as usual. Notwithstanding these signs of Cortes al-
aversion and horror, however, the Mexicans were so lowed to
ignorant of the military art, that they again permitted rctur.n to
him to enter the capital -without opposition; though* exico’
it was in their power to have easily prevented him,
by breaking down the bridges and causeways which led
to it.
Cortes was received by his companions tvith the
utmost joy ; and this extraordinary success so far in¬
toxicated the general himself, that he not only ne¬
glected to visit Montezuma, but expressed himself very ^
contemptuously concerning him. These expressions but is fu-
being reported among the Mexicans, they all at once riously at-
flew to arms, and made such a violent and sudden t,acl4e<'
94
the. na¬
tives.
attack, that all the valour and skill of Cortes were
scarce sufficient to repel them. This produced great
uneasiness among the soldiers of Narvaez, who had
imagined there was nothing to do but to gather the
spoils of a conquered country. Discontent and mur-
murings, however, were now of no avail; they were
enclosed in a hostile city, and, without some extra¬
ordinary exertions, were inevitably undone. Cortes,
therefore, made a desperate sally ; but, after exerting
his utmost efforts for a whole day, was obliged to
retire with the loss of 12 killed, and upwards of 60
wounded. Another sally was attempted with the like
bad success, and in it Cortes himself was wounded in
the hand.
The Spanish general was now thoroughly convinced
of his error ; and therefore betook himself to the on¬
ly resource which was left; namely, to try what ef¬
fect the interposition of Montezuma would have to-
soothe or overawe his subjects. When the Mexicans
approached the next morning to renew the assault,
that unfortunate prince, at the mercy of the Spaniards,
and reduced to the sad necessity of becoming the in¬
strument of his own disgrace, and of the slavery of his
people, advanced to the battlements in his royal robes,
and with all the pomp in which he used to appear on
solemn occasions. At the sight of their sovereign,
whom they had been long accustomed to reverence al¬
most as a god, the Mexicans instantly forebore their
hostilities, and many prostrated themselves on the
ground : but when he addressed them in favour of the
Spaniards, and made use of all the arguments he could ^5
think of to mitigate their rage, they testified their re-Montezu-
sentment with loud murmurings and at length broke ma killed.
forth
766 M E X
iisstory. forth with such fury, that before the soldiers, appoint-
■' ed to guard Montezuma, had time to cover him with
their shields, he was wounded with two arrows, and
a blow on his temple with a stone struck him to the
ground. On seeing him fall, the Mexicans instantly
tied with the utmost precipitation : but the unhappy
monarch, now convinced that he was become an ob¬
ject of contempt even to bis own subjects, obstinately
refused all nourishment} and thus in a short time end¬
ed his days.
A terrible t?16 death of Montezuma, Cortes having lost all
engage- hope of bringing the Mexicans to any terms of peace,
ment be- prepared lor retreat. But his antagonists, having
f-Tani t^kon possession of a high tower in the great temple,
nml Mexi- overlooked the Spanish quarters, and placing
cans. there a garrison of their principal warriors, the Spa¬
niards were so much exposed to their missile weapons,
that none could stir without danger of being killed or
wounded. From this post, therefore, it was necessary
to dislodge them at any rate } and Juan de Escobar,
with a large detachment of chosen soldiers, was order¬
ed to make the attack. But Escobar, though a valiant
officer, and though he exerted his utmost efforts, was
thrice repulsed. Cortes, however, sensible that not
only his reputation, but the safety of his army, de¬
pended on the success of this assault, caused a buckler
to be tied to his arm, as he could not manage it with
his wounded hand, and rushed with his drawn sword
amongst the thickest of the combatants. Encouraged
by the presence of their general, the Spaniards re¬
turned to the charge with such vigour, that they gra¬
dually forced their way up the steps, and drove the
Mexicans to the platform at the top of the tower.
There a dreadful carnage began 5 when two young
Mexicans of high rank, observing Cortes, as he ani¬
mated his soldiers, resolved to sacrifice their own lives
in order to cut off the author of so many calamities
which desolated their country. They approached him
in a suppliant posture, as if they intended to lay down
their arms.; and seizing him in a moment, hurried him
towards the battlements, over which they threw them¬
selves headlong, in hopes of dragging him along with
them. But Cortes, by his strength and agility, disen¬
gaged himself from their grasp 5 so that the two Mexi¬
cans perished alone.
As soon as the Spaniards became masters of the
tower, they set fire to it, and without further mole¬
station continued the preparations for their retreat.
This became the. more necessary, as their enemies,
astonished at this last effort of their valour, had now
entirely changed their system of hostility ; and, instead
of incessant attacks, endeavoured, by barricading the
streets, and breaking down the causeways, to cut off’
the communication of the Spaniards with the conti¬
nent, and thus to starve an enemy whom they could
not subdue. The first point to be determined, was
whether they should march out openly in the face of
day, when they could discern every danger, or whether
they should endeavour to retire secretly in the night.
The latter was preferred, partly from hopes that the
superstition of the Mexicans would prevent them from
attacking them in the night, and partly from their
own superstition in giving credit to the predictions of
a private soldier, who pretended to astrology, and
assured them of success if they retreated in this manner.
I c o.
Towards midnight, therefore, they began their march, History,
in tin •ee divisions. Sandoval led the van ; Pedro Al- t——-y—1-
varado and Velasquez de Leon had the conduct of the
rear 5 and Cortes commanded in the centre, where he
placed the prisoners, among whom were a son and
two daughters of Montezuma, together with several
Mexicans of distinction, the artillery, baggage, and
a portable bridge of timber intended to be laid over
the breaches in the causeway. They marched in
profound silence along the causeway which led to
Tacuba, because it was shorter than any of the rest,
and, lying more remote from the road towards Tlasca-
la and the sea coast, had been left most entire by the
Mexicans. ^
They reached the first breach in the causeway with-Cortes re-
out molestation, hoping that their retreat was undis- treats with
covered. But the Mexicans had not only watched all Sreat
their motions, but made preparations for a most for¬
midable attack. While the Spaniards were intent up¬
on placing their bridges in the breach, and occupied in
conducting their horses and artillery along it, they
were suddenly alarmed with the sound of warlike in¬
struments, and found themselves assaulted on all sides
by an innumerable multitude of enemies. Unfortu¬
nately the wooden bridge was wedged so fast in the
mud by the weight of the artillery', that it was impos¬
sible to remove it. Dismayed at this accident, the
Spaniards advanced with precipitation to the second
breach. The Mexicans hemmed them in on every
side j and though they defended themselves with their
usual courage, yet, crowded as they were in a narrow
causeway, their discipline and military skill were of
little avail 5 nor did the obscurity of the night allow
them to derive much advantage from their fire-arms
or the superiority of their other weapons. At last the
Spaniards, overborne with the numbers of their ene¬
mies, began to give way, and in a moment the confusion
was universal. Cortes, with about 100 foot soldiers,
and a few horse, forced his way over the two remain¬
ing breaches in the causeway, the bodies of the dead
serving to fill up the chasms, and reached the main
land. Having formed them as soon as they arrived, he
returned with such as were yet capable of service, to
assist his friends in their retreat. He met with part of
his soldiers who had forced their way through the ene¬
my, but found many more overwhelmed by the multitude
of their aggressors, or perishing in the lake j and heard
the grievous lamentations of others whom the Mexicans
were carrying off’ in triumph to be sacrificed to the god
of war.
In this fatal retreat more than one half of Cortes’s
army perished, together with many officers of distinc¬
tion. All the artillery, ammunition, and baggage,
■were lost; the greater part of the horses and above
2000 Tlascalans were killed, and only a very small part
of their treasure saved. The first care of the Spanish
general was to find some shelter for his wearied troops j
for,, as the Mexicans infested them on every side, and
the people of Tacuba began to take arms, he could
not continue in his present station. At last he disco¬
vered a temple seated on an eminence, in which he
found not only the shelter he wanted, but some provi¬
sions 5 and though the enemy did not intermit their
attacks throughout the day, they were without much
difficulty prevented from making any impression. For
six
99
’he battle
M E X
History, sifc days after, they continued their march through a
" v barren, ill cultivated, and thinly peopled country, where
they were often obliged to feed on berries, roots, and
the stalks of green maize } at the same time they were
harassed without intermission hy large parties of Mexi¬
cans, who attacked them on all sides. On the sixth
day they reach Otumba, not far from the road be¬
tween Mexico and Llascala. Karly next morning they
began to advance towards it, flying parties of the ene¬
my still hanging on their rear; and amidst the insults
with which they accompanied their hostilities, Donna
Marina remarked, that they often exclaimed with exul¬
tation, “ Go on, robbers j go to the place where you
shall quickly meet the vengeance due to your crimes.”
The meaning of this threat the Spaniards did not com¬
prehend, until they reached the summit of an eminence
before them. There a spacious valley opened to their
view, covered with a vast army as far as the eye could
reach. The Mexicans, while with one body of their
troops they harassed the Spaniards in their retreat, had
assembled their principal force on the other side of the
lake ; and marching along the road which led directly
to Tlascala, posted it in the plain of Otumba, through
which they knew Cortes must pass. At the sight of
I'OtumbiL t^*3 incredible multitude, which they could survey at
once from the rising ground, the Spaniards were asto¬
nished, and even the boldest began to despair. But
Cortes, without allowing their fears time to operate,
after warning them briefly that no alternative remained
but to conquer or die, led them instantly to the charge.
1 he Mexicans waited their approach with unusual for¬
titude : yet such was the superiority of the Spanish dis¬
cipline and arms, that the impression of this small body
was irresistible ; and whichever way its force was di¬
rected, it penetrated and dispersed the most numerous
battalions. But while these gave way in one quarter,
new combatants advanced from another ; and the Spa¬
niards, though successful in every attack, were ready
to sink under these repeated efforts, without seeing
any end to their toil, or any hope of victory. At that
time Cortes observed the great standard of the empire,
which was carried before the Mexican general, advan¬
cing •, and fortunately recollecting to have heard, that
on the fate of it depended the event of every battle,
he assembled a few of his bravest officers, whose horses
■were still capable of service, and placing himself at
their head, pushed towards the standard with such im¬
petuosity that he bore down every thing before him.
A chosen body of nobles, who guarded the standard,
made some resistance, but were soon broken. Cortes,
with a stroke of his lance, wounded the Mexican ge¬
neral, and threw him to the ground. One of his fol¬
lowers alighting, put an end to bis life, and laid hold
of the imperial standard. The moment that their leader
fell, and the standard, towards which all directed their
eyes, disappeared, an universal panic struck the Mexi¬
cans : and, as if the bond which held them together
had been dissolved, every ensign was lowered, each
soldier threw away his weapons, and fled with preci¬
pitation to the mountains. The Spaniards, unable to
pursue them far, returned to collect the spoils of the
field 5 and these were so valuable as to be some
compensation for the wealth which they had lost in
Mexico ; for in the enemy’s army were most of
their principal warriors dressed out in their richest
I C Q.
767
TOO
lexieans
efeated.
ornaments, as if they had been marching to assured History,
victory. u—y—
The day after this important action (being July
8. 1520), the Spaniards entered the Tlascalan terri¬
tories, where they wrere received with the most cordial
friendship. Cortes endeavoured to avail himself of this
disposition as much as possible 5 for which purpose he
distributed among them the rich spoils taken at Otum¬
ba with such a liberal hand, that he made himself surer
of obtaining from the republic whatever he should de¬
sire. He drew a small supply of ammunition, and
twro or three field-pieces, from his-stores at Vera Cruz.
He despatched an officer of confidence with four ships
of Narvaez’s fleet to Hispaniola and Jamaica, to en¬
gage adventurers, and to purchase horses, gunpowder,
and other military stores. And as he knew that it
wmuld be in vain to attempt the reduction of Mexico,
unless he could secure the command of the lake, he
gave orders to prepare, in the mountains of Tlascala,
materials for building 12 brigantines, so that they
might be carried thither in pieces, ready to he put to¬
gether, and launched when he stood in need of their
service. But, in the mean time, his soldiers, alarmed
at the thoughts of being exposed to such calamities a
second time, presented a remonstrance to their general’,
in which they represented the imprudence of attack¬
ing a powerful empire with his shattered forces, and
formally required him to return back to Cuba. All
the eloquence of Cortes could now only prevail with
them to delay their departure for some time, when he
promised to dismiss such as should desire it. Howr-
ever, this was only a pretence ■, for Cortes, in fact,
had the conquest of Mexico as much at heart as ever.
Without giving his soldiers an opportunity of cabal¬
ling, therefore, he daily employed them against the
people of the neighbouring provinces, who had cut off
some detachments of Spaniards during his misfortunes
at Mexico *, and by which, as he was constantly at¬
tended with success, his men soon resumed their wontr
ed sense of superiority. IOr
But all the efforts of Cortes could have been of little Cortes re-
avail, had he not unexpectedly obtained a reinforce-ceives a"
ment of Spanish soldiers. These belonged to an arma-
ment fitted out by Francisco de Garay, governor of Ja-nient.
maica, who had long aimed at dividing with Cortes
the glory and gain of annexing the empire of Mexico
to the crown ot Castile. They had, however, unad¬
visedly made their attempt on the northern provinces,
where the country was poor and the inhabitants fierce
and warlike ; so that, after a succession of disasters, they
were now obliged to venture into Vera Cruz, and cast
themselves upon the mercy of their countrymen j and
here they also were soon persuaded to throw oil’ their
allegiance to their master, and to enlist with Cortes.
About the same time a ship arrived from Spain, freight¬
ed by some private adventurers, with military stores ;
and the cargo was eagerly purchased hy Cortes, while
the crew, following the example of the rest, joined him
at Tlascala.
From these various quarters, the army of Cortes
was augmented with 180 men and 20 horses 5 by
which means he was enabled to dismiss such of the sol¬
diers of Narvaez as were most troublesome and discon¬
tented ; after the departure of whom he still mustered
550 infantry, of whom 80 were armed with muskets or
cross-
MEXICO.
again for
Mexico.
768
History, cross bows, 40 horsemen, and nine pieces of artillery.
1 v—«; At the head of these, with 10,000 Tlascalans and other
i°2 friendly Indians, he began his march towards Mexico,
lie sets out tj 28th of December, six months after his fatal re-
treat from that city.
As soon as Cortes entered the enemy’s territories,
he discovered various preparations to obstruct his pro¬
gress. But his troops forced their wray with little dif¬
ficulty ; and took possession of Tezcuco, the second
city of the empire, situated on the banks of the lake,
about 20 miles from Mexico. Here he detei’mined to
establish his head quarters, as the most proper station
for launching his brigantines, as well as for making his
approaches to the capital. In order to render his re¬
sidence there more secure, he deposed the cacique or
chief, who was at the head of that community, under
pretence of some defect in his title, and substituted in
his place a person whom a faction of the nobles pointed
out as the right heir of that dignity. Attached to him
by this benefit, the new cacique and his adherents ser¬
ved the Spaniards with inviolable fidelity.
As the construction of the brigantines advanced
slowly under the unskilful hands of soldiers and In¬
dians, whom Cortes was obliged to employ in assisting
three or four carpenters who happened fortunately to
be in his service, and as he had not yet received the
reinforcement which he expected from Hispaniola, he
was not in a condition to turn his arms directly against
the capital. To have attacked a city so populous, so
well prepared for defence, and in a situation of such
peculiar strength, must have exposed his troops to ine¬
vitable destruction. Three months elapsed before the
materials for constructing the brigantines were finish¬
ed, and before he heard any thing with respect to the
success of his negociation in Hispaniola. This, how¬
ever, was not a season of inaction to Cortes. He at¬
tacked successively several of the towns situated around
the lake } and though all the Mexican power was ex¬
erted to obstruct his operations, he either compelled
them to submit to the Spanish crown, or reduced
them to ruins. Other towns he endeavoured to con¬
ciliate by more gentle means j and though he could
not hold any intercourse with the inhabitants but by
the intervention of interpreters, yet, under all the dis¬
advantages of that tedious and imperfect mode of com¬
munication, he had acquired such a thorough knowledge
of the state of the country, as well as of the dispositions
of the people, that he conducted his negociations and
intrigues with astonishing dexterity and success. Most
of the cities adjacent to Mexico were originally the
capitals of small independent states ; and some of them
having been but lately annexed to the Mexican empire,
still ret ained the remembrance of their ancient liberty,
and bore with impatience the rigorous yoke of their
new masters. Cortes having early observed symptoms
of their disaffection, availed himself of this knowledge
to gain their confidence and friendship. By offering
with confidence to deliver them from the odious do¬
minion of the Mexicans, and by liberal promises of
more indulgent treatment if they would unite with
him against their oppressors, he prevailed on the peo¬
ple of several considerable districts, not only to ac¬
knowledge the king of Castile as their sovereign, but
to supply the Spanish camp wfith provisions, and to
strengthen his army with auxiliary troops. 'Guatimo-
i
103
Cortes
makes
great pro¬
gress.
zin, on the first appearance of defection among hia History,
subjects, exerted himself with vigour to prevent or to l—
punish their revolt} hut, in spite of his efforts, the spi¬
rit continued to spread. The Spaniards gradually ac¬
quired newr allies •, and with deep concern lie beheld
Cortes arming against his empire those very hands
which ought to have been active in his defence, and
ready to advance against the capital at the head of a
numerous body of his own subjects.
While, by these various methods, Cortes was gra¬
dually circumscribing the Mexican power within such
narrow^ limits that his prospect of overturning it seemed
neither to be uncertain nor remote, all his schemes
were well nigh defeated by a conspiracy against his
own person, and which was discovered only a short time
before it was to have been executed. Though many
were concerned, Cortes did not think proper to punish
any more than the principal ringleader, whom he
caused immediately to be hanged •, and then, without
allowing them leisure to ruminate on what had hap¬
pened, and as the most effectual means of preventing
the return of a mutinous spirit, he determined to call
forth his troops immediately to action. Fortunately
a proper occasion for this occurred, without his seeming
to court it. He received intelligence, that the mate¬
rials for building the brigantines were at length com¬
pletely finished, and waited only for a body of Spa¬
niards to conduct them to Tezcuco. The command
of this convoy, consisting of 200 foot soldiers, 15
horsemen, and two field-pieces, he gave to Sandoval,
wTho by the vigilance, activity, and courage, which he
manifested on every occasion, was growing daily in his
confidence, and in the estimation of his fellow-soldiers.
The Tlascalans furnished 8000 Tamenes, an inferior
order of men destined for servile tasks, to carry the ma¬
terials on their shoulders, and appointed 15,000 war¬
riors to accompany and defend them. Sandoval made
the disposition for their progress with great propriety,
placing the Tamenes in the centre, one body of war¬
riors in the front, another in the rear, with consider-
able parties to cover the flanks. To each of these he
joined some Spaniards, not only to assist them in dan¬
ger, hut to accustom them to regularity and subordi¬
nation. Parties of Mexicans frequently appeared ho¬
vering around them on the high grounds : but perceiv¬
ing no prospect of success in attacking an enemy con¬
tinually on his guard, and prepared to receive them,
they did not venture to molest him •, and Sandoval had
the glory of conducting safely to Tezcuco a convoy
on which all the future operations of his countrymen
depended. . .,104
Cortes determined to attack the city from three dif-Mexico be-
ferent quarters; from Tezcuco on the east side of the sieged,
lake, from Tacuba on the wrest, and from Cuayocan to¬
wards the south. Those towns were situated on the
principal causeways which led to the capital, and in¬
tended for their defence. He appointed Sandoval to
command in the first, Pedro de Alvarado in the second,
and Christoval de Olid in the third ; allotting to each
a numerous body of Indian auxiliaries, together with
an equal division of Spaniards, who, by the junction
of the troops from Hispaniola, amounted now to 86
horsemen, and 818 foot foot soldiers; of whom 118 were
armed with muskets or cross-bows. Their train of ar¬
tillery consisted of three battering cannon, and 15 field-
pieces.
Hi* lory.
105
The Spa¬
niards de¬
feat the
M E X
pieces. He reserved for himself, as the station of great¬
est importance and danger, the conduct of the brigan¬
tines, each armed with one of his small cannon, and
manned with 25 Spaniards.
As Alvarado and Olid proceeded towards the posts
assigned them, they broke down the aqueducts which
the ingenuity of the Mexicans had erected for convey¬
ing Water into the capital, and, by the distress to
which this reduced the inhabitants, gave a beginning
to the calamities which they Were destined to suffer.
Alvarado and Olid found the towns, of which they
were ordered to take possession, deserted by their in¬
habitants, who had fled for safety to the capital, where
Guatimozin had collected the chief force of his em¬
pire, as there alone he could hope to make a successful
stand against the formidable enemies who were ap¬
proaching to assault him.
The first effort of the Mexicans was to destroy the
fleet of brigantines, the fatal effects of whose opera¬
tions they foresaw and dreaded. Though the brigan-
Mexicans, tines, after all the labour and merit of Cortes in form-
and become jng them, were of inconsiderable bulk, rudely con-
tbelake0* s^ructet^ and manned chiefly with landmen, hardly pos¬
sessed of skill enough to conduct them, they must have
been objects of terror to a people unacquainted with
any navigation but that of their lake, and possessed of
no vessel larger than a canoe. Necessity, however, ur¬
ged Guatimozin to hazard the attack ; and hoping to
supply by numbers what he wanted in force, he assem¬
bled such a multitude of canoes as covered the face of
the lake. They rowed on boldly to the charge, while
the brigantines, retarded by a dead calm, could scarcely
advance to meet them. But as the enemy drew near,
a breeze suddenly sprung up 5 in a moment the sails
•were spread, and the brigantines with irresistible im¬
petuosity broke their feeble opponents, overset many
canoes, and dissipated the whole armament with such
slaughter, as convinced the Mexicans, that the pro¬
gress of the Europeans in knowledge and arts rend¬
ered their superiority greater on this new element
than they had hitherto found it by land.
From that time Cortes remained master of the lake ;
and the brigantines not only preserved a communica¬
tion between the Spaniards in their different stations,
though at a considerable distance from each other ; but
were employed to cover the causeways on each side,
and keep off the canoes, when they attempted to an¬
noy the troops as they advanced towards the city. He
formed the brigantines in three divisions, allotting one
to each station, with orders to second the operations
of the officer who commanded there. From all the
three stations he pushed on the attack against the city
with equal vigour } but in a manner so very different
from that by which sieges are conducted in regular war,
as might appear no less improper than singular to per¬
sons unacquainted with his situation. Each morning his
troops assaulted the barricades which the enemy had
erected on the causeways, forced their way over the
trenches which they had dug, and through the canals
where the bridges were broken down, and endeavoured
to penetrate into the heart of the city, in hopes of
obtaining some decisive advantage, which might force
the enemy to surrender, and terminate the wax'at once ;
but when the obstinate valour of the Mexicans rendered
the efforts of the day ineffectual, the Spaniards retired
Vol. XIII. Part II.
I C O. 769
in the evening to their former quarters. Thus their toil History,
and danger were, in some measure, continually renew- 1' ■/——■l
ed, the Mexicans repairing in the night what the Spa¬
niards had destroyed through the day, and recovering
the posts from which they had driven them. But ne¬
cessity prescribed this slow and untoward mode of ope¬
ration. The number of his troops was so small, that
Cortes durst not, with a handful of men, attempt to
make a lodgement in a city where he might bd sur¬
rounded and annoyed by such a multitude of enemies.
The remembrance of what he had already suffered by
the ill-judged confidence with which he had ventured
into such a dangerous situation, was still fresh in his
mind. The Spaniards, exhausted with fatigue, were
unable to guard the various posts which they daily
gained } and though their camp was filled with Indiaft
auxiliaries, they durst not devolve this charge upon
them, because they were so little accustomed to disci¬
pline, that no confidence could he placed in their vi¬
gilance. Besides this, Cortes was extremely solicitous
to preserve the city as much as possible from being de¬
stroyed, both as he destined it to be the capital of his
conquests, and wished that it might remain as a mo¬
nument of his glory. From all these considerations,
he adhered obstinately, for a month after the siege was
opened, to the system which he had adopted. Tire
Mexicans, in their own defence, displayed valour
which was hardly inferior to that with which the Spa¬
niards attacked them. On land, on water, by night
and by day, one furious conflict succeeded to another.
Several Spaniards were killed, more wounded, and all
were ready to sink under the toils of unintermitting
service, which were rendered more intolerable by the
injuries of the season, the periodical rains being now
set in with their usual violence.
Astonished and disconcerted with the length and dif¬
ficulties of the siege, Cortes determined to make one
great effort to get possession of the city before he re¬
linquished the plan which he had hitherto followed,
and had recourse to any other mode of attack. With
this view he sent instructions to Alvarado and Sando¬
val to advance with their divisions to a general assault,
and took the command in person of that posted on the
causeway of Cuyocan. Animated by his presence, and
the expectation of some decisive event, the Spaniards
pushed forward with irresistible impetuosity. They
broke through one barricade after another, forced their
way over the ditches and canals, and having entered
the city, gained ground incessantly, in spite of the mul¬
titude and ferocity of their opponents. Cortes, though
delighted with the rapidity of his progress, did not
forget that he might still find it necessary to retreat j
and in order to secure it, appointed Julian de Alderete,
a captain of chief note in the troops which he had re¬
ceived from Hispaniola, to fill up the canals and gaps
in the causeway as the main body advanced. That of¬
ficer deeming it inglorious to be thus employed, while
his companions were in the heat of action and the ca¬
reer of victory, neglected the important charge com¬
mitted to him, and hurried on inconsiderately to mingle
with the combatants. The Mexicans, whose military
attention and skill were daily improving, no sooner ob¬
served this, than they carried an account of it to their
monarch.
Guatimozin instantly discerned the consequences of
+ S F the
77° M E X
History, the error which the Spaniards had committed, and, with
t~—\ ' 1 ■' admirable presence of mind, prepared to take advantage
of it. He commanded the troops posted in the front
to slacken their efforts, in order to allure the Spaniards
to push forward, while he despatched a large body of
chosen warriors through different streets, some by land,
and others by water, towards the great breach in the
causeway, which had been left open. On a signal
which he gave, the priests in the great temple struck
the great drum consecrated to the god of war. No
sooner did the Mexicans hear its doleful solemn sound,
calculated to inspire them with contempt of death and
with enthusiastic ardour, than they rushed upon the
enemy with frantic rage. The Spaniards, unable to
resist men urged on no less by religious fury than hope
of success, began to retire, at first leisurely, and with
a good countenance j but as the enemy pressed on,
and their own impatience to escape increased, the
terror and confusion became so general, that when
they arrived at the gap in the causeway, Spaniards
and Tlascalans, horsemen and infantry, plunged in pro¬
miscuously, while the Mexicans rushed upon them
fiercely from every side, their little canoes carrying
^ them through shoals which the brigantines could not
Cortes re- apProach. In vain did Cortes attempt to stop and
pulsed in an tally his flying troops ; fear rendered them regardless
attack. of his entreaties or commands. Finding all his endea¬
vours to renew the combat fruitless, his next care w-as
to save some of those who had thrown themselves into
the water } but while thus employed, with more atten¬
tion to their situation than to his own, six Mexican
captains suddenly laid hold of him, and were hurrying
him off in triumph j and though twro of his officers res¬
cued him at the expence of their own lives, he received
several dangerous wounds before he could break loose.
Above 60 Spaniards perished in the rout j and what
rendered the disaster more afflicting, 40 of these fell
alive into the hands of an enemy never known to show,
mercy to a captive.
The appi'oach of night, though it delivered the de¬
jected Spaniards from the attacks of the enemy, usher¬
ed in, what was hardly less grievous, the noise of their
barbarous triumph, and of the horrid festival with
which they celebrated their victory. Every quarter
of the city wras illuminated j the great temple shone
with such peculiar splendour, that the Spaniards could
plainly see the people in motion, and the priests busy
in hastening the preparations for the death of the pri¬
soners. Through the gloom they fancied that they
discerned their companions by the whiteness of their
skins, as they were stripped naked and compelled to
dance before the image of the god to whom they were
to be offered. They heard the shrieks of those who
were sacrificed, and thought they could distinguish each
unhappy victim by the well known sound of his voice.
Imagination added to what they really saw or heard,
and augmented its horror. The most unfeeling melt-
• ed into tears of compassion, and the stoutest heart
trembled at the dreadful spectacle which they be¬
held.
Cortes, who, besides all that he felt in common with
his soldiers, was oppressed with the additional load of
anxious reflections natural to a general on such an un¬
expected calamity, could not like them relieve his mind
I c o.
by giving vent to its anguish. He was obliged to as- History,
ssume an air of tranquillity in order to revive the spirits 1—-7-—J
and hopes of his followers. The juncture, indeed, re- 10
quired an extraordinary exertion of fortitude. TheMexi- The Mexi¬
cans, elated with their victory, sallied out next morning cans renew
to attack him in his quarters. But they did not rely tll.e aUack
on the efforts of their own arms alone : they sent the *r*at
heads of the Spaniards whom they had sacrificed to the ‘
leading men in the adjacent provinces, and assured them
that the god of war, appeased by the blood of their inva¬
ders, which had been shed so plentifully on his altars, had
declared with an audible voice, that in eight days time
those hated enemies should be finally destroyed, and
peace and prosperity re-established in the empire.
A prediction, uttered with such confidence, and in
terms so void of ambiguity, gained universal credit
among a people prone to superstition. The zeal of
the provinces which had already declared against the
Spaniards augmented, and several which had hitherto
remained inactive took arms with enthusiastic ardour to
execute the decrees of the gods. The Indian auxiliaries
who had joined Cortes, accustomed to venerate the
same deities with the Mexicans, and to receive the re¬
sponses of their priests with the same implicit faith, aban¬
doned the Spaniards as a race of men devoted to certain
destruction. Even the fidelity of the Tlascalans was
shaken, and the Spanish troops were left almost alone in
their stations. Cortes, finding that he- attempted in
vain to dispel the superstitious fears of his confederates
by argument, took advantage, from the imprudence of
those who had framed the prophecy in fixing its accom¬
plishment so near at hand, to give them a striking de¬
monstration of its falsity. He suspended all military
operations during the period marked out by the oracle.
Under cover of the brigantines, which kept the enemy
at a. distance, his troops lay in safety, and the fatal term
expired without any disaster.
His allies, ashamed of their own credulity, x’eturned
to their station. Other tribes, judging that the gods,
who had now deceived the Mexicans, had decreed
finally to withdraw their protection from them, joined
his standard 3 and such was the levity of a simple
people, moved by every slight impression, that, in a
short time after such a general defection of his confe¬
derates, Cortes saw himself, if we may believe his own
account, at the head of 150,000 Indians. Even with
such a numerous army, he found it necessary to adoptdoptsa ”
a new and more wary system of operation. Instead ofmore cauti-
renewing his attempts to become master of the city atous mctllod
once, by such bold but dangerous efforts of valour as of(,pi0CeC^
he had already tried, he made his advances gradually,inS’
and with every possible precaution against exposing his
men to any calamity similar to that which they still be¬
wailed. As the Spaniards pushed forward, the Indians
regularly repaired the causeways behind them. As soon
as they got possession of any part of the town, the houses
were instantly levelled with the ground. Day by day,
the Mexicans, forced to retire as their enemies gained
ground, were hemmed in within more narrow limits.
Guatimozin, though unable to stop the career of the
enemy, continued to defend his capital with obstinate
resolution, and disputed every inch of ground. But the
Spaniards, having not only varied their mode of attack,
but, by order of Cortes, having changed the weapons
with
MEXICO.
History. With which they fought, were again armed with the
w*—V—^ long Chinantlan spears, which they had employed with
such success against Narvaez : and, by the firm array
in which this enabled them to range themselves, they
repelled, with little danger, the loose assault of the
Mexicans j incredible numbers of whom fell in the con¬
flicts, which they renewed every day. While war
wasted without, famine began to consume them within
the city. The Spanish brigantines, having the entire
command of the lake, rendered it impossible to receive
any supply of provisions by water. The vast number
of his Indian auxiliaries enabled Cortes to shut up the
avenues to the city by land. The stores which Guati-
mozin had laid up were exhausted by the multitudes
which crowded into the capital to defend their sovereign
and the temples of their gods. Not only the people,
but persons of the highest rank, felt the utmost distresses
of want. What they suffered brought on infectious and
mortal distempers, the last calamity that visits be¬
sieged cities, and which filled up the measure of their
109 woes.
Guatimo- But, under the pressure of so many and such various
zni retuses evils, the spirit of Guatimozin remained firm and un-
onany subdued. He rejected with scorn every overture of
terms. peace from Cortes j and, disdaining the idea of submit¬
ting to the oppressors of his country, determined not
to survive its ruin. The Sjraniards continued their
progress. At length all the three divisions penetrated
into the great square in the centre of the city, and
made a secure lodgment there. Three-fourths of the
city were now reduced, and laid in ruins. The re¬
maining quarter was so closely pressed, that it could
not long withstand assailants who attacked it from their
new station with superior advantage, and more assured
expectation of success. The Mexican nobles, soli¬
citous to save the life of a monarch whom they rever¬
ed, prevailed on Guatimozin to retire from a place
where resistance was now vain, that he might rouse the
more distant provinces of the empire to arms, and
maintain there a more successful struggle with the pub¬
lic enemy. In order to facilitate the execution of this
measure, they endeavoured to amuse Cortes with over¬
tures of submission, that, while his attention was em¬
ployed in adjusting the articles of pacification, Gua¬
timozin might escape unperceived. But they made this
attempt upon a leader of greater sagacity and discern¬
ment than to be deceived by their arts. Cortes suspect¬
ing their intention, and aware of what moment it was
to defeat it, appointed Sandoval, the officer on whose
vigilance he could most perfectly rely, to take the
command of the brigantines, with strict injunctions to
watch every motion of the enemy. Sandoval, atten¬
tive to the charge, observing some large canoes crowd¬
ed with people rowing along the lake with extraordi¬
nary rapidity, instantly gave the signal to chase.
Gracia Holguin, who commanded the fleetest brigan¬
tine, soon overtook them, and was preparing to fire
on the foremost canoe, which seemed to carry some
person whom all the rest followed and obeyed. At
once the rowers dropt their oars, and all on board,
77l
throwing down their arms, conjured him with cries History.
and tears to forbear, as the emperor was there. Hoi- ' v—■
gain eagerly seized his prize j and Guatimozin, with a ■IIt°j1
dignified composure, gave himself up into his hands, ta eu
requesting only that no insult might be offered to the1
empress or his children. When conducted to Cortes,
he appeared neither with the sullen fierceness of a bar¬
barian, nor with the dejection of a supplicant. “ I
have done,” said he, addressing himself to the Spanish
general, “ what became a monarch. I have defended
my people to the last extremity. Nothing now re¬
mains but to die. Take this dagger,” laying his
hand on one which Cortes wore, “ plant it in my
breast, and put an end to a life which can no longer be
of use.” XII
As soon as the fate of their sovereign was known, Mexico
the resistance of the Mexicans ceased j and Cortes took submits,
possession of that small part of the capital which yet
remained undestroyed. Thus terminated the siege of
Mexico, the most memorable event in the conquest of
America. It continued 75 days, hardly one of which
passed without some extraordinary effort of one party
in the attack, or of the other in the defence of a city,
on the fate of which both knew that the fortune of
the empire depended. As the struggle here was more
obstinate, it was likewise more equal, than any be¬
tween the inhabitants of the Old and New Worlds.
The great abilities of Guatimozin, the number of his
troops, the peculiar situation of his capital, so far
counterbalanced the superiority of the Spaniards in
arms and discipline, that they must have relinquished
the enterprise, if they had trusted for success to them¬
selves alone. But Mexico was overturned by the jea¬
lousy of neighbours who dreaded its powrer, and by
the revolt of subjects impatient to shake oft its yoke.
By their effectual aid, Cortes was enabled to accom¬
plish what, without such support, he would hardly
have ventured to attempt. How much soever this
account of the reduction of Mexico may detract, on
the one hand, from the marvellous relations of some
Spanish writers, by ascribing that to simple and ob¬
vious causes which they attribute to the romantic va¬
lour of their countrymen, it adds, on the other, to the
merit and abilities of Cortes, who, under every disad¬
vantage, acquired such an ascendant over unknown na¬
tions, as to x-ender them instruments towards carx-ying
his scheme into execution.
The exultation of the Spaniards, on accomplishing
this arduous enterprise, was at first excessive. But this
was quickly damped by the cruel disappointment of
those sanguine hopes which had animated them amidst
so many hardships and dangers. Instead of the inex¬
haustible weath which they expected from becoming
masters of Montezuma’s treasui*es, and the ornaments
of so many temples, their rapaciousuess could collect
only an inconsiderable booty amidst ruins and desola¬
tion (a). Guatimozin, aware of his impending fate,
had oi'dered what remained of the riches amassed by
his ancestors to be thrown into the lake. The Indian
auxiliaries, while the Spaniards were engaged in con-
J E 2 flict
(a) The gold and silver, according to Cortes, amounted only to 120,000 pesos, (Belat. 280, A.) a sum far
inferior to that which the Spaniai’ds had formerly divided in Mexico.
772 M E X
History, fiict with the enemy, hart carried off the most valuable
part of the spoil. The sum to be divided among the
conquerors was so small, that many of them disdained
to accept of the pittance which fell to their share, and
all murmured and exclaimed : some against Cortes and
his confidants, whom they suspected of having secretly
appropriated to their own use a large portion of the
riches which should have been brought into the common
stock m, others against Guatimozin, whom they accused
of obstinacy, in refusing to discover the place where he
had Hidden his treasure.
Arguments, entreaties, and promises, were employ¬
ed in order to soothe them ; but with so little effect,
that Cortes, from solicitude to check this growing
II2 spirit of discontent, gave way to a deed which stained
Cuatinjo- the glory of all his great actions. Without regarding
ziu tortur- the former dignity of Guatimozin, or feeling any re-
ed. verence for those virtues which he had displayed, he
subjected the unhappy monarch, together with his
chief favourite, to torture, in order to force from them
a discovery of the royal treasures, which it w7as sup¬
posed they had concealed. Guatimozin bore what¬
ever the refined cruelty of his tormentors could inflict,
with the invincible fortitude of an American warrior.
His fellow-sufferer, overcome by the violence of the
anguish, turned a dejected eye towards his master,
which seemed to implore his permission to reveal all
that he knew. But the high-spirited prince, darting
on him a look of authority mingled with scorn, check¬
ed his weakness, by asking, “ Am I now reposing on
a bed of flowers ?” Overawed by the reproach, he per¬
severed in his dutiful silence, and expired. Cortes,
ashamed of a scene so horrid, rescued the royal victim
from the hands of his torturers, and prolonged a life re-
_ served for new indignities and sufferings.
The Spa- ^le f:ltc capital, as both parties had fore-
i.iards be- seen, decided that of the empire. The provinces sub-
eome ma- mitted one after another to the conquerors. Small
whede^ tlie ^etac^ments of Spaniards marching through them with-
Mexiean out iotd'coptiolb penetrated, in different quarters, to the
empire. great Southern ocean, which, according to the ideas of
Columbus, they imagined would open a short as well
as easy passage to the East Indies, and secure to the
crown of Castile all the envied wealth of those fertile
regions 5 and the active mind of Cortes began already
to form schemes for attempting this important discovery.
In his after-schemes, however, he was disappointed j
but Mexico hath ever since remained in the hands of
the Spaniards.
Till Humboldt’s work appeared, the internal situation
cf Mexico was very imperfectly known. This cele¬
brated traveller, who spent a considerable time in visit¬
ing the most remarkable objects, and had access to the
best sources of information, has furnished us with a very
interesting account of the colony.
One of the most remarkable peculiarities of New
Spain is the great elevation of the soil. Three fifths of
the viceroyalty consist of table land, elevated from
6000 to 8000 feet above the sea. It presents a conti¬
nuous and hardly broken plain between 180 and 40° of
north latitude. The slight ridges that interrupt it sel¬
dom rise more than 600 or 800 feet above the valleys
they separate. Some of the mountains, however, are
«f colossal magnitude. The tops of, four only are co¬
vered with perpetual snow; the highest of which has an
1 c o.
altitude of 17,700 feet. The table land gradually do- RivC?s
dines towards the north. The more elevated plains Lakes, &c.
are arid, destitute of trees, and covered with a saline
efflorescence. But the greater part of it is extremely
fertile, and the whole exceedingly healthy. It enjoys a
dry and light atmosphere, and a mild and temperate
climate. The medium temperature of winter is from
55° t0 57° Fahrenheit’s thermometer, and in the
greatest heat of summer it never rises above 750. On
the coast, however, the air is moist, hot, and unwhole¬
some, and the medium temperature of the whole year is
about 78° or 790. The settlers divide the cultivated
part into three zones. 1. The tierras calientes, or
warm grounds, which never rising 1000 feet above the
sea, have a heat of about 8o°, and yield abundantly
sugai’, indigo, cotton, plantains, or bananas. 2. The
tierras templadas, or temperate grounds, which lying
on the declivity of the great ridge, at an altitude from
4000 to 5000 feet, enjoy a mild vernal temperature of
68° or 70°, that seldom varies 100 through the whole
year. 3. The tierrasfrias, or cold grounds, having an
elevation of 8000 feet, and comprehending the high
plains or table land, of which the temperature is gene¬
rally under 63°, and never exceeds
The great chain of mountains called the Jades is
continued through the isthmus of Panama and through
all Mexico, until they are lost in the unknown moun¬
tains of the north. The most considerable of that
chain is known in Mexico by the name of Sierra
Madrc.
Mexico, like Old Spain, suffers from the want of
water and navigable rivers. The Bio Bravo del Norte,
and the Rio Colorado are the most considerable, the
former having a course of 512 leagues, and the latter of
250. Those rivers, however, are situated in the most
uncultivated part of the country. In the southern part
of Mexico there are only small rivers, the Alvarado,
Guasacualeo, Mortezuma, and Zaeatula ; but the San¬
tiago which flows westward, and falls into the Pacific
ocean in latitude 2i^°, is a large river.
There are likewise in this country several lakes of
very considerable magnitude ; but those of Nicaragua,
Chapalla, and Pazquaro, which are of the greatest
extent, did not belong to the ancient Mexican em¬
pire. The most remarkable were those in the vale of
Mexico, upon which the capital of the empire was
founded. Of tl icse, the fresh water one, called the
lake of Chaleo, extended in length from east to west
12 miles, as far as the city of Xoehimilco ; from
thence, taking a northerly direction, it incorporated
itself by means of a canal with the lake of Tezcuco j
but its breadth did not exceed six miles. The other,
named the lake of Tcxcuco, extended 15, or rather 17
miles from east to west, and something more from south
to north ; but its extent is now much less, by reason of
the Spaniards having diverted the course of many of the
streams which run into it. This lake is salt, which
Clavigero supposes to arise from the nature of the soil
which forms its bed.
Besides these, there are a number of smaller lakes,
some of which are very delightful. There is a vast
variety of mineral waters, of the nitrous, sulphureous,
and aluminous kinds, some of them so hot that meat
may be boiled in them. At Tetubuacan is a kind
of petrifying water., as well as in several other parts
M E X
Vegetable of ilie empire. One of theta forms a kind of smooth
Produc- white stones, not displeasing to the taste; the scrap-
k0”8, , ings of which taken in broth are celebrated as a dia¬
phoretic, probably without any good reason. The
dose for a person not difficult to be sweated is one
dram of the scrapings. Many of the rivers of Mexico
afford surprising and beautiful cascades j particularly
the river Guadalaxara, at a place called Tenipi'zque,
15 miles to the southward of that city. Along a deep
liver called Atoyaque is a natural bridge, consisting of
a vast mound of earth, along which carriages pass con¬
veniently. Clavigero supposes it to have been the frag¬
ment of a mountain thrown down by an earthquake, and
then penetrated by the river.
The agriculture of Mexico, with all other branches
of industry, have been much improved within the last
30 or 40 years ; and so far from the mines operating
against it, the cultivation of the soil is generally carried
on with the greatest spirit in the mining districts. The
plantain or banana tree, which is cultivated over an
extent of country containing a million and a half of in¬
habitants, yields so great a produce, that an arpent of
ground covered with it will maintain 50 persons, though
if sown with wheat it would not support two. The
fruit is farinaceous, and contains much saccharine mat¬
ter. The tree does not thrive where the medium tem¬
perature is below 750 F. The cassava root, which
grows also in the warm region, at a height from 2000
to 2700 feet, affords a flour, called manioc, which has
the inestimable advantage, that when dried and toasted
it is secure from the depi’edations of worms and other
insects. But maize is the chief food of the inhabitants.
It is cultivated from the coast to the height of 9000
feet above the sea. On very fertile lands, and in good
years, it yields 800 for 1 5 but the average return for
the intratropieal part of the country is not more than
150 for I, and in New California 70 or 80. The crop
is verv uncertain, and as it is seldom equally good in
every part of the country, the transport of maize comes
to be the principal branch of internal commerce. A
general failure is followed by scarcity, or even famine.
Its price varies from to 25 livres the fanega (equal
to l-§- English bushels). The annual produce of New
Spain in maize is estimated at 17 millions of fanegas.
The Mexican wheat is of excellent quality, and the
medium return is from 22 to 25 for 1. Much wheat
is exported to Cuba. Barley and rye thrive well;
oats are very little cultivated. The potato is raised
abundantly in the high and cold parts of the country.
Bice is but little attended to, though well adapted for
the marshy lands on the coast. The cerealia are not
cultivated in the intratropical part of Mexico* at a
lower elevation than about 2700 feet above the sea, and
in very small quantity at a less height than 4000. Nei¬
ther wheat nor rye come to maturity at a greater height
than X2C00 feet.
The sugar cane has been successfully introduced into
some of the interior provinces of the continent. Sugar
plantations are spreading rapidly in the plain of Mexi¬
co, and supply not only the home consumption, but af¬
ford'an export of half a million of arobas (equal to about
25 lbs. avoirdupois each); The sugar cane is not cul¬
tivated by slaves.
The Spanish government has always discouraged the
cultivation of the vine, the olive, the mulberry-tree,
I C O. 77 j
and the plants producing hemp and flax. When Hum- Vegetable
boldt was in the country, an order came from Madrid Produc-
to grub up all the vines in the northern parts of the, tl0US- <
kingdom, where they had been cultivated with so much
success as to give alarm to the merchants of Cadiz, by
the diminished consumption of wine from the mother
country. There is but one olive plantation in the coun¬
try, which belongs to the archbishop of Mexico. Since
1764, when the royal monopoly was established, no to ¬
bacco can be planted, except in particular districts,
and none can be sold except to tbe king’s officers.
Parties of soldiers are employed to go about the coun¬
try in search of tobacco fields j and where they find
one on forbidden ground, they impose a fine on the
owner, and direct the plantation to be destroyed. This
monopoly produces a revenue of more than 20 millions
of livres annually.
From maize the Indians obtain several kinds of beer
or cyder by fermentation. A spirituous liquor named
pulque is also procured from this plant. But the in¬
toxicating liquor most in use, and which is also called
pulque, is made from the agave Americana. A vigor¬
ous plant will afford four gallons of sap per day during
four or five months } and this when fermented three or
four days forms pulque. It tastes like cyder, but has
an offensive smell of meat in a state of putrefaction.
The ardent spirit from it is strictly prohibited by law',
lest it should interfere with tbe sale of Spanish brandy j
but great quantities of it are made clandestinely.
Cotton, indigo, coffee, and cacao, are not cultivated
to a great extent in New Spain. But the whole of the
vanilla consumed in Europe comes from the provinces
of Oaxaca and Vera Cruz, amounting to 900,000 pods,
the value of which, at Vera Cruz, is about 30,000 or
40,000 piastres or dollars. The province of Oaxaca
also furnishes 32,000 arobas of cochineal, valued at
2,400,000 dollars.
The whole annual produce of the agriculture of New
Spain is valued by Humboldt at 29 millions of dollars j
and as this amount is founded on accurate returns of
the amount of the tithes, and was revised and corrected
by well informed persons, it may be considered as a s
near approximation to the truth.
The wages of labour in New Spain are l\ reals de
plata a-day on the coast, and 2 reals de plata, or
•J dollar, on the table land. Tbe average price of
maize on the table land is estimated by Humboldt at
<; livres the fanega j and consequently a labourer on
the table land, earns about if pecks of Indian corn
a-day. Wheat is dearer in the city of Mexico than
in Paris, chiefly in consequence of the cost of transport¬
ation.
The tree producing liquid amber, the liquid storax
of the Mexicans, is of a large size, the leaves similar
to those of the maple, indented, white in one part
and dark in the other, disposed in threes j the fruit
is thorny and round, but polygonous, with the surface
and the angles yellow $ the bark of the tree partly
green and partly tawney. By incisions in the trunk
they extract that valuable substance named liquid am¬
ber, and tbe oil of tbe same name, which is still more
valuable. Liquid amber is likewise obtained from a
decoction of the branches, but it is inferior to that
obtained from the trunk.
The uajoe copmlli in Mexico is generic, and com-
mpA....
774 M E X
Animals. mon *;^e res^ns > but especially signifies those
« —~v— L ■ made use of for incense. There are ten species of
these trees yielding resins of this kind 5 the principal
of which is that from which the Copal is got, so
'well known in medicine and varnishes. A great quan¬
tity of this was made use of by the ancient Mexicans,
and is still used for similar purposes by the Spaniards.
The tccopalli or tepecopalli is a resin similar to the in¬
cense of Arabia} which distils from a tree of mode¬
rate size that grows in the mountains, having a fruit
like an acorn, and containing the nut enveloped in a
mucilage, within which there is a small kernel useful in
medicine.
The mitxquitl, or mezquite, is a species of true aca¬
cia, and the gum distilled from it is said to be the true
gum arabic. It is a thorny shrub, with branches ir¬
regularly disposed, the leaves small, thin, and pinnat¬
ed j the flowers being like those of the birch-tree.
Of the elastic gum, which is found in plenty in Mexi¬
co, the natives were in use to make foot-balls, which,
though heavy, have a better spring than those filled
with air. With this they varnish their hats, cloaks,
boots, and great coats, in a manner similar to what is
done in Europe with wax; and by which means they
are rendered all water proof.
114 The quadrupeds found in Mexico at the arrival of
Mexican the Spaniards, were lions, tygers, wild cats, bears,
animals. solves, foxes, the common stags, white stags, bucks,
wild goats, badgers, polecats, weasels, martins, squir¬
rels, polatucas, rabbits, hares, otters, and rats. All
these animals are supposed to be common to both con¬
tinents. The white stag, whether it be the same species
of the other or not, is undoubtedly common to both,
and was known to the Greeks and Romans. The
Mexicans call it the king of the stags. M. Buffbn
imagines the white colour of this creature to be the
effect of captivity $ but Clavigero says, that it is found
wild, and of the same white colour, on the mountains
of New Spain. In many other points, he also contro¬
verts the opinions of this celebrated naturalist, who will
not allow the lion, tyger, or rabbit, to be natives of
America.
Clavigero enumerates the quadrupeds common to
New Spain with the rest of the continent of America.
Among these he will not allow a place to the Peru¬
vian sheep, the huanaco, and sloth j all of which are
peculiar to South America. Hernandez indeed makes
mention of the Peruvian sheep, and gives a drawing of
it} but this was only on account of a few individuals
brought thence from Peru, which the Mexicans called
by that name, in the same manner as he describes se¬
veral animals of the Philippine isles $ not that they
had ever been bred in Mexico, or found in any country
of North America, unless it was some individual earned
there, as they are carried as a curiosity from Europe.
The animals which he allows to be common to both
countries, are, the Mexican hog, the moufete, the
opossum, the armadillo, the techichi, a small animal re¬
sembling a dog} which being perfectly dumb, gave
occasion to a report that the Mexican dogs could not
bark. The flesh of this animal was eaten by them, and
was esteemed agreeable and nourishing food. After
the conquest of Mexico, the Spaniards having neither
large cattle nor sheep, provided their markets with
this quadruped j by which means, the species soon
I c o.
came to be extinct, though it had been very numef- Anima]-
ous. The land-squirrel is very numerous in the king--y—*
dom of Michuacan, has great elegance of form, and
is extremely graceful in its movements j but it cannot
be tamed, and bites most furiously every person who
approaches it.
Besides these, there are sea lions, ratoons, and that
voracious animal named the tapir. Oviedo informs
us, that he has seen it at one bite tear off two or three
hand-breadths of skin from a hound, and at another
a whole leg and thigh. The flesh is eatable, and its
skin is valued on account of its being sufficiently strong
to resist musket-balls. There are likewise great num¬
bers of monkeys of many different kinds ; some of
which have heads resembling those of dogs. Some of
them are strong and fierce, equalling a man in stature
when they stand upright.
Among the animals peculiar to Mexico, is one na¬
med coyoto, which appears to have been inaccux-ately
described by natural historians j some making it one
species and some another. It is about the size of a
mastiff, but more slender. The eyes are yellow and
spax-kling, ears small, pointed, and erect; the snout
blackish, strong limbs, and the feet armed with lai’ge
crooked nails. The tail is thick and hairy, the skin
a mixture of black, brown, and white j and the voice is
compounded of the howl of the wolf and the bark of
the dog. It pursues the deer, and will sometimes even
attack men. Its usual pace is a trot, but so quick that
a horse at the gallop can scarcely overtake it. The
tlaleojotl or tlalcoyoto is about the size of a middling
dog, and the largest animal that lives under the earth.
Its head has some resemblance to that of a cat; but
in colour and length of hair it resembles the lion.—-
It has a long thick tail, and feeds upon poultry and
small animals, which it catches in the night-time.
The tepcizuintli, or mountain-dog, though it is but of
the size of a small dog, is so bold that it attacks deer,
and sometimes kills them. Its hair and tail are long,
the body black, but the head, neck, and breast, white.
M. Buffon reckons this animal the same with the
glutton, but Clavigero denies it. Another animal,
lai'ger than the two foregoing, is called the xoloit%criint~
li. Some of these are no less than four feet in length.
It has a face like the dog, but tusks like the wolf,
with erect ears, the neck gross, and the tail long.—
It is entirely destitute of hair, excepting only the
snout, where there are some thick crooked bxistles.
The whole body is covered with a smooth, soft ash-
coloured skin, spotted partly with black and tawney.
This species of animals, as well as the two former,
ai’e almost totally extinct. A Lyncean academician
named Giovanni Febrn, has endeavoured to pi'ove that
the xoloitzcuintli is the same w'ith the wolf of Mexico j
but this is denied by Clavigero.
A curious animal of the mole kind is called to%an
or tu%a. It is about the size of a European mole,
but very different otherwise. The body is about seven
or eight inches long, and well made \ the snout like
that of a mouse, the ears small and round, with the tail
short. The mouth is armed with very strong teeth,
and its paws are furnished with strong crooked nails,
with which it digs its habitation in the earth. It is
extremely destructive to the corn fields by the quantity
pf grain it steals, and to the highways by the num-
IIS
exican
rds..
M E X
iairaals. bcr of holes it makes in them j for when, on account
—-v ' of the dimness of its sight, it cannot find its first hole,
it makes another, and so on. It digs the earth with its
claws and two canine teeth, which it has in the upper
jaw.
The birds are so numerous, and of such various ap¬
pearances and qualities, that Mexico has been called
the country of birds, as Africa is of quadrupeds. Her¬
nandez describes above 200 peculiar to the country.
He allows to the eagles and hawks of Mexico a
superiority over those of Europe ; and the falcons
of this country were formerly esteemed so excellent, that,
by the desire of Philip II. a hundred of them were
sent every year over to Spain. The largest, the most
beautiful, and the most valuable kind of eagles, is
called by the Mexicans it’zquauhtli, and will pursue not
only the larger kinds of birds, but quadrupeds, and even
men.
The ravens of Mexico, do not, like those of other
countries, feed upon carrion, but subsist entirely by
stealing corn. The carrion is devoured by the birds
called in South America gallincicz%i, in Mexico %opi-
hts and aure. By Hernandez they are said to be a
species of ravens ; but, according to Clavigero, they
are very different, not only in their size, but in the
shape of their head, their flight, and their voice.
The aquatic birds are very numerous, and of great
variety.—There are at least 20 species of ducks, a
vast number of geese, with several kinds of herons,
great numbers of swans, quails, water rails, divers,
king’s fishers, pelicans, &c. The multitude of ducks
is sometimes so great, that they cover the fields, and
appear at a distance like flocks of sheep. Some of the
herons and egrets are perfectly white, some ash-colour¬
ed j others have the plumage of the body white, while
the neck, with the tops and upper part of the wings,
and part of the tail, are enlivened with a bright scarlet,
or beautiful blue.
Numbers of the other classes of birds are valuable
for their flesh, plumage, or song, while some are re¬
markable for their extraordinary instinct or other pro¬
perties. Clavigero enumerates more than 70 species
of those which afford an agreeable and wholesome food.
Besides the common fowls which were brought from
the Canaries to the Antilles, and from these to Mexico,
there were, and still are, fowls peculiar to the country
itself. These partly resemble the common fowl and
partly the peacock, whence they had the name of galli-
pavos from the Spaniards. From Mexico they were
imported into Europe, where they have multiplied very
fast, especially in Italy, though the common fowls have
multiplied much more in Mexico.
There are great numbers of birds valuable on ac¬
count of their plumage, which was made use of by
the Mexicans in their excellent mosaic works 5 an art
which seems now to be totally lost. Peacocks have
been carried from the old continent to Mexico j but,
not being attended to, have propagated. very slowly.
The birds remarkable for their song are likewise very
numerous ; among which that called the centxonitl, by
Europeans the mocking-bird, is the most remarkable,
on account of its counterfeiting naturally the notes of all
others it hears. There are great numbers of beautiful
parrots j and there is a bird which counterfeits the
3
I C O.
human voice, but in a kind of burlesque tone, and will
follow travellers a great way. The t%acua is remark¬
able for its instinct. Birds of this kind live in society,
every tree being a village or city to them, having great
numbers of nests in the neighbourhood of each other,
all hanging from the boughs. One of them, whose
office it is to be the head or guard of the village, re¬
sides in the middle of the tree ; from which it flies
about from one nest to another, visiting them all, and
after singing a little, returns to its place, while the rest
continue perfectly silent. If any bird of a different
species approaches the tree, he flies to it, and writh
his bill and wings endeavours to drive it off- j but if
a man or any large animal comes near, he flies scream¬
ing to another tree j and if at that time any of his
fellows happen to be returning to their nests, he meets
them, and, changing his note, obliges them to retire
again: as soon as he perceives the danger over, he re¬
turns to his wonted round of visiting the nests.
Mexico, like all other American countries, abounds Reptiles,
with reptiles, many of them of an enormous size.
The crocodiles are not less to be dreaded than those of
Africa or Asia, and there are likewise some of those
monstrous serpents met with in the East Indies and in
South America : though happily the species of those
terrible creatures seems to be nearly extinct, as they
are seldom to be found but in some solitary wood, or
other remote place. There are great numbers of liz¬
ards, some of which the people suppose to be poisonous j
but Clavigero thinks this opinion ill-founded. There
are several kinds of poisonous serpents, of which the
rattlesnake is one. ^
The aquatic animals are innumerable. Clavigero Aquatic
mentions a species of frogs so large that a single one anunds.
will weigh a pound, and which are excellent food.-—
Of fish proper for food, he says that he has counted up¬
wards of 100 species, without taking in the turtle,
crab, lobster, or any other crustaceous animal. The
sharks are well known for their voracity. A whole
sheep’s skin, and even a large butcher’s knife, has been
found in the belly of one of them. They are accustom¬
ed to follow vessels, to devour any filth that is thrown
overboard : and, according to Oviedo, they have been
known to keep up with ships sailing before a fair wind
for no less than 500 miles. The bottetto is a fish about
eight inches in length, but excessively thick. While
this fish lies alive upon the beach, it swells whenever it
is touched to an enormous size, and boys often take
pleasure in making it burst with a kick. The liver is
so poisonous as to kill with strong convulsions in half
an hour after it is eaten. Iig
Of flying and other minute insects, the number is Insects,
prodigiously great. There are a variety of beetles:
some of a green colour make a great noise in flying j on
which account children are fond of them. There are
great numbers of shining beetles, which make a de¬
lightful appearance at night, as well as the luminous
flies which abound in the country. There are six kinds
of bees and four kinds of wasps j of which last, one
collects wax and honey of a very sweet taste ; another
is called the vmndering wasp from its frequent change
of abode ; and in consequence of these changes, it is
constantly employed in collecting materials for its ha¬
bitations. The lake of Mexico abounds with a kind-*
of V
776 M E X
Animals, of fly, ilie eggs of Tvlilcli are deposited upon the flags
and ms lies in such quantities as to form large masses.
These are collected by the fishermen, and carried to
market for sale. They are eaten by both Mexicans
and Spaniards, and have much the same taste as the
caviare of fish. There are abundance of gnats in the
moist places and lakes } but the capital, though situat¬
ed upon a lake, is entirely free from them. The but¬
terflies are in vast numbers, and their wings glow with
colours far superior to those of Europe j the figures of
some of them are given by Hernandez. But notwith¬
standing its beauties and advantages, Mexico is subject
to the dreadful devastations of locusts, which sometimes
occasion the most destructive famines.
There are some of the worms of Mexico made use
of by the inhabitants as food $ others are poisonous.
There are great numbers of scolopendrae and scor¬
pions, some of the former growing to an immense
size. Hernandez says, that he has seen some of them
two feet long and two inches thick. The scorpions
are very numerous •, and in the hot parts of the coun¬
try their poison is so strong as to kill children, and
give terrible pain to adults. Their sting is most dan¬
gerous during those hours of the day in which the sun
is hottest. There is a mischievous kind of tick, which
in the hot countries abounds among the grass. From
thence it easily gets among the clothes, and from them
upon the skin, There it fixes with such force, from
the particular figure of its feet, that it can scarcely be
got off. At first it seems nothing but a small black
speck, but in a short time enlarges to such a degree,
from the blood which it sucks, that it equals the size of
ICO.
a bean, and then assumes a leaden colour. If it is Uma
not speedily removed, a wound is made similar to that Manufac-
which the nigera or chegoc makes. tures, &c.
Mexico produces silk-worms: and the manufacture '■“V’*-'
of silk might be carried on to great advantage, were
it not prohibited for some political reasons. Besides
the common silk, there is another found in the woods,
very white, soft, and strong. It grows on the trees in
several maritime places, particularly in dry seasons.
Unless by poor people, however, this silk is not turned
to any use, partly from inattention to their interests,
but “ chiefly (says our author) from the obstructions
which would be thrown in the way of any one who
should attempt a trade of that kind. W e know from
Cortes’s letters to Charles V. that silk used to be sold
in the Mexican markets j and some pictures are still
preserved, done by the ancient Mexicans upon a paper
made of silk.”
The mines of Mexico have greatly increased in pro¬
ductiveness within the last forty years. They are
chiefly of silver j and the ore is remarkable for its po¬
verty j but, to balance this disadvantage, it occurs in
great abundance. The whole number of persons em¬
ployed under ground does not exceed 30,000, and all
these are free labourers, who have high wages ; thu
mita tanda, or forced labour of the Indians, having
been abolished more than forty years ago. The sub¬
joined table gives the average annual coinages of Mexi¬
co during successive periods 5 and, as very little bullion
is exported from Mexico, the amount of the coinage
expresses very nearly the produce of the mines.
! From 1733 to 1742, ten years, 1
1743—^752> — .
—i762> . —
J7^3 — I77I> n“le }’ears»
1772-—1782, eleven years,
1783 — 1792, ten years,
In 1793,
From 1795 to 1804, ten years,
L
Silver Dollars.
8,998,209
11,566,030
It,971,835
II,777,9°9
i7»55i»9°6
i9A9l>3°9
23,428,680
21,084,787
Gold Dollars.
434»°50
455>I09
462,773
76i,553
835>586
644,040
884,262
Total Dollars.
9,432,259
12,021,139
12,434,603
12,539,462
l8,387,492
20,135,340
24,312,94 2
More than three-fourths of the silver obtained from
America is extracted from the ore by means of quick¬
silver j and such is the abundance of the ore in Mexi¬
co, that the only limit to the quantity of silver obtain¬
ed, is the want of mercury for amalgamation. The
sale of mercury is a royal monopoly: The quantity
consumed annually is 16,000 quintals.
The chief manufactures of New Spain are woollens,
cottons, gold and silver-lace, hats, leather, soap, and
earthen-ware; but the total value of the goods they
produced, when Mr Humboldt was in the country, did
not exceed seven or eight millions of dollars annually.
Some manufactures of silk have since been introduced j
and, in general, all the manufactures, the finer sorts
especially, had increased considerably, in consequence
of the interruption of foreign commerce by the wrar.
4
Tobacco and gunpowder are royal manufactures and
monopolies j and the former brings in to the crown a
clear revenue of four millions of dollars annually. The
Mexican tradesmen are remarkably skilful in works of
plate and jewellery *, and, like some of the eastern na¬
tions, they have a singular turn for imitation. Very
good carriages are made in Mexico, though the best
coaches come from England.
The commerce of New Spain has increased greatly
since 1765, and especially since 1778. From the first
of these periods to 1789, various new edicts were is¬
sued, all tending to break down the monopoly which a
few opulent merchants of Cadiz and Mexico had pre¬
viously enjoyed. The average exportation from Vera
Cruz, before the year 1778, when the old system sub¬
sisted, was about 617,000 piastres annually j but from
M E X
Commerce, *7^7 l79?i lilule1' tlie new system, k amounted to
Revenue, 2,840,000 piastres annually. The commerce of Mexi-
j. ^c' .co with the mother country, is almost entirely carried
on through Vera Cruz. In time of peace, Mr Hum¬
boldt estimates the annual value of the exports in that
commerce at 22,000,000 piastres, and the imports at
15,000,000. Of the former, about 17,000,000 con¬
sists ol gold and silver, in coin, bullion, and plate 5 the
other articles are cochineal, sugar, flour, indigo, salted
provisions, tanned hides, sarsaparilla, vanilla, jalap,
&c. Of the imports, 9,000,000 consists of bale goods,
including woollens, cottons, linen, and silk. The other
articles are, paper, brandy, cacao, quicksilver, iron,
Steel, wine, and bees-wax. This estimate does not in¬
clude the imports in the contraband trade, which, in
time of peace, are supposed to be about a fourth of the
whole. The temptations to engage in this trade are
very great, as the value of commodities imported in
Spanish vessels is increased 35 or 40 per cent, by the
duties. Mexico also carries on a considerable trade with
Cuba, Porto-Ilico, Florida, and Manilla. The whole
exports are estimated at 31,500,000 piastres, including
specie, and the imports at 22,000,000. The demand
for foreign merchandise in New Spain and Goatemala,
amounts nearly to seven millions sterling.
The revenue of New Spain has augmented with the
progress of industry. In 1712 the gross revenue
amounted to 3,068,400 piastres^ in 1765 to 6,141,981 j
in 1780 to 15,010,974-, and in 1802 to 20,200,000.
It is derived chiefly from the following sources. From
the produce of the mines, consisting of duties, profits
on coinage, and on the sale of mercury, about 5,500,000
I piastres. From the manufacture of tobacco, 4,000,000
to 4,500,000. From the alcavala, or duty on every sale
of goods, nearly 3,000,000. From the Indian capitation,
1,300,000. From the duty on pulque, 8oc,ooo. From
the net produce of the duty on imports and exports,
500,000. From the sale of papal indulgences, 270,000.
From the post, net produce 250,000. From the sale of
powder, 150,000. From clerical benefices, 100,000.
From the sale of cards, 120,000. Stamp duties, 80,000.
From the farm of cock-fighting, 45,000. From the
farm of snow, 30,000. The expence of collection is
estimated by Humboldt, on an average, at 16 or 18
per cent, of the gross receipts. Of this revenue of
20,000,000 piastres, 10,500,000 are consumed by the
internal expenses of the government; 3,500,000 are
remitted to other colonies to supply deficiences in their
revenues; and the remainder consisting of about
6,000,000, is the clear revenue derived by the mother-
country from the colony. The value of the specie cir¬
culating in Mexico is estimated at fifty-five or sixty
millions of piastres, which is nearly ten piastres a head
for the whole population. The national wealth of
Mexico is supposed to be equal to two fifths of the
whole Spanish continental colonies.
The military force of the colony in 1804 consisted
of 9,919 regular troops, and 22,277 militia, one half
of both being cavalry. The military spirit in the mili¬
tia service is partly kept up by the vanity of some fa¬
milies, who aspire to the titles of colonels and brigadiers.
And the distribution of these titles has become a source
of revenue to those individuals who have influence with
the ministry. Here, as in the United States, mer¬
chants in provincial towns are transformed into colonels
Vol. XIII. Part II. f
1 c o. 777
and majors. The petty w arfare continually carried on Population,
with the wandering Indians, in the provincial externas,v ■■■■—v—..
and the maintenance of the presidios or military posts,
require a considerable expenee. T he state of the eastern
coast, and the nature ol the country, facilitate its de¬
fence against any attempt by a maritime power.
In the year iqqG, the old provincial divisions were
laid aside, and the country was divided anew into
twelve intendancies, to which must be added three dis¬
tricts, very remote from the capital, which have pre¬
served the simple denomination of provinces. The
whole of New Spain, in 1803, contained 118,478 square
leagues, and 5,837,100 inhabitants. The population
ol the twelve intendancies was as follow-s :
Mexico, -
Puebla, - _ .
Vera Cruz, - - -
Oaxaca, - -
Merida, - - _
Valladolid,
Guadalaxara,
Zacatecas,
Guanaxuato,
San Luis Potosi,
Old California,
New California, -
Add the population of the
Provincias Internets,
1,511,000
813.300
156,000
534>8°0
465,800
467,400
630,500
i53>3°°
517.300
230,000
9,000
15,600
423,000
Ibis population is distinguished into diflerent classes :
Whites,—of whom 70,000 7
are European Spaniards,^ U100?000
Indians, - . _ 2,500,000
Mestizoes, or mixed race, 2,231,000
Negroes, - - - 6,100
5,837»ioo
Of all the circumstances in the state of Spanish
America, this -division of its inhabitants into casts,
marked by nature with differences of colour, and dis¬
tinguished in law or opinion by differences of rank or
privilege, is the most adverse to its happiness and
prosperity. The first class is divided within itself.
1 hough the Gachepines, or European Spaniards, and
the Creoles, or American Spaniards, have in law equal
title to preferment, the former enjoy almost all places
of trust or emolument. One cause of this partiality is,
that the needy court of Madrid, which has been in the
practice of raising money by the sale of colonial offices,
fills up even the most inferior situations. A keen
spirit of jealousy is thus kept up between the parties,,
and the government, by showing favour to the one, has
made enemies of the other.
The Mestizoes, or descendants of Spaniards and
Indians, form the class next in rank after the whites.
In colour they hardly differ from the Creoles 5 but the
scantiness of their beards, the smallness of their hands
and feet, and a particular east of their eyes, betray
their Indian original. Some consider them as a
superior race of men to the Creoles both in bodily con¬
stitution and mental endowments. In rank they fol¬
low the condition of their fathers. The Creoles and
5 F Mestizoes
778 M E X
Condition Mestizoes form by their union, their numbers, and their
property, the principal force, and the most respectable
the Indians. Part °f t^ie Spanish colonists. As they have the same
i.i.'My— n.> interests to maintain, and the same grievances to re¬
dress, it is probable that in the event of any civil dis¬
sensions, they would act together, whether against In¬
dians or Europeans.
The fate of the Indians living under the Spanish
government, is a striking proof of the inefficacy of law
to afford protection, where those who are the objects of
its care have no controul over the persons charged with
its execution. The Indians are fenced by the strictest
provisions against the tyranny and injustice of their
rulers, and yet no people have suffered more from ra¬
pacity and oppression. They arc born free, and ex¬
empt from all sorts of personal service j they are ad¬
missible into all incorporated trades, in the same man¬
ner as Spaniards; and their caciques have the privileges
of Spanish nobles. Those who live in separate villages
are governed by alcaldes and regidors of their own na¬
tion, and no Spaniards or mixed races are permitted to
settle among them, or encroach on their lands. To
prevent their facility from being abused by the
fraudulent and designing, they cannot dispose of their
real property without the intervention of a magistrate,
nor enter into contracts, nor conclude bargains for a
greater sum than three dollars. They are exempt
from the alcavala, and pay only a moderate tribute,—
not exceeding two dollars for every person from 10 to
50 years of age. These anxious provisions for their
protection have undoubtedly operated against their
progress in civilization. Their living in separate com¬
munities deprives them of the means of instruction.
The state of pupilage in which they are kept destroys
the energy of their characters, and detains them in per¬
petual childhood. The multiplicity of laws in their
favour, enables the priest or magistrate to interfere
when he pleases in their concerns, and, on pretext of
serving them, to become their worst oppressor. The
produce of the common lands of their villages, which
they are bound to cultivate, is withheld from the bene¬
ficial purposes to which it is applicable by law, and
openly diverted to other uses in which they have no in¬
terest or concern. The privileges of their caciques are
almost illusory.
Climate has little effect on the complexion of the In¬
dians. Those who live on the Rio Negro are darker
than those who inhabit the banks of the Lower Ori-
noko, though they enjoy a much cooler temperature.
Their children, contrary to the testimony of some au¬
thors, have a copper colour at birth. The Indians are
a long lived race, when their days are not shortened by
intoxication. Pulque, a fermented liquor from the
juice of the agave americana, which is their native
liquor, is less prejudicial to their health than rum or
brandy, the use of which they have learned from Euro¬
peans. They have little sensibility of body, and suffer
less from wounds and injuries than other casts, and they
are also less subject to personal deformities. A crook¬
ed spine is never seen among them, and very few of
them are squint-eyed or lame. In the provinces afflict¬
ed with the goitre, the Indians are totally exempt, and
even the Mestizoes rarely suffer from that malady. Of
all the races in the old world they have the greatest re¬
semblance to the Moguls, but they have a smaller facial
I c o.
angle, though greater than the negro. Their skull is ^ncjc,nt
thicker than that of the European, the frontal bone
more depressed, the occiput less protuberant, and the tants.
brain smaller. The Mexican Indian is grave, melan- v—'y—^
choly, and silent, unless when under the influence of
spirituous liquors. He affects an air of mystery in the
most unimportant transactions, and no expression is to
be seen in his countenance of the most violent passions
that agitate him. He is obstinately attached to ancient
customs, manners, and opinions. He seems to be des¬
titute of imagination, and to have little feeling*, but
when properly educated, has a clear head, an acute
and logical understanding. The Indians are generally
excessively poor, but some of them under an appear¬
ance of wretchedness conceal considerable wealth. Iir
every village there are eight or ten individuals who
live in idleness at the expence of the others, on pre¬
tence of the nobility of their birth.
The Toltecas, who first inhabited Mexico, were ac-OftheToL
counted much more polished than those who came aftertecas ani
them, insomuch that in after ages it was customary to
distinguish people of ingenuity and learning by the name ‘ "
of Toltecas. They ahvays lived in society, collected
into cities, under the government of kings, and had
regular laws. They wrere more addicted to the arts of
peace than of war; and it wras to them that the succeed¬
ing nations owed themselves indebted for their know¬
ledge of the culture of grain, cotton, pepper, &c.
They understood the art of casting gold and silver, and
melting them in whatever forms they pleased, acquiring
also great reputation from their skill in cutting gems of
all kinds 5 and they were besides well versed in the
sciences of astronomy and chronology.
According to the ancient histories of these people,
they observed, about a hundred years before the
Christian era, how far the solar year exceeded the ci¬
vil one *, supplying the defect, as we do, by the addi¬
tion of a day once in four years. In the year 660,
while their monarchy continued iu Tula, a celebrated
astronomer named Huematzin, assembled with the
king’s consent all the wise men of the nation j and
with their assistance painted a famous book named
Teoamoxtli, or “ divine book,” in w'hich were repre¬
sented, in very plain figures, the origin of the Indians,
their dispersion after the confusion of tongues at Ba¬
bel, their journey in Asia, their first settlements in
America, the founding of the kingdom of Tula, and
their progress till that time : but these, and other ac¬
counts of their great knowledge and accuracy, savour
too much of exaggeration, or perhaps invention, from
both which it is impossible to clear the Spaniards when
speaking of American affairs. I20
The Chichemecas derived their knowledge of agri-Their pro¬
culture from the Toltecas, and of consequence the Mex-gress in a-
icans also. Being destitute of ploughs or animals ofSricu'turc'
sufficient strength to assist them in their labour, they
made use of an instrument of hard copper, which they
called coatl or coa, but differing in shape either from
a spade or mattock. They used copper axes to cut
trees, the figure of which wras the same with ours}
only that they put the axe into the eye of the handle,
instead of putting the handle into the eye of the axe
as we do. They had several other instruments of agri¬
culture, but the forms of them are not mentioned by
historians. They watered their fields by means of the
rivers
MEXICO.
j\’uient rivers anil small torrents winch came from the moun-
Inhabi- tains j raising dams to collect them, and forming ca-
. t u^s' , nals to conduct them properly to the places which re¬
quired moisture. I hey used enclosures of stone, as
well as hedges for the fields, using for their hedges the
aloe plant, which is well calculated for the purpose j
and what reparations were necessary they gave in De¬
cember. Ihey dibbled their maize : a method of
Sowing more slow indeed than the ordinary one, but
which certainly repays the trouble by a vastly larger
crop, as well as by saving a very considerable quantity
of seed. Close to the newly sown fields they com¬
monly erected a small towrer of wood, where a man
kept watch, in order to drive away the birds that came
to feed upon the grain j a custom still preserved among
I2I the Spaniards.
! Magnifi- In the cultivation of their gardens, the Mexicans
cent gar- were extremely skilful and magnificent j planting in
them not only kitchen herbs, but fruit trees, medici¬
nal herbs, and flowers, with great taste and regularity.
Some of the royal gardens excited the admiration of
the Spaniards so much, that Cortes, in a letter to
Charles V. informed him that the garden at Huax-
tepec was the most extensive, the most beautiful, and
most delightful, that had ever been beheld. It was
Ifor many years preserved by the Spaniards. The
plants most cultivated, next to maize, were cotton,
cocoa, and aloe ; which last served a great many use-
l22 ful purposes. See Aloe.
Tame ani- Though they had not the advantage of the larger
mats. quadrupeds, as horses, oxen, or sheep, they bred up
an immense number of quadrupeds unknown in Europe.
Private persons brought up the small quadrupeds al¬
ready mentioned, resembling little dogs; as well as
turkeys, quails, geese, ducks, and other kinds of fowl.
In the houses of the great men were bred fish, deer,
rabbits, and a variety of birds ; and in the royal pa¬
laces, almost all the species of quadrupeds and winged
animals to be found in these kingdoms were kept, as
well as a great number of aquatic animals and reptiles.
According to Clavigero, Montezuma II. surpassed all
the kings in the w orld in this kind of magnificence ;
and there never ivas a nation equal to the Mexicans
12, in the care they took in taming animals.
Paintings. Painting was an art in great request among the
Mexicans, and one of very great use} as it was only
by means of paintings that they recorded their histories.
This art they derived, like others, from the Toltecas.
Some of these paintings were mere images of their
gods, kings, heroes, or terrestrial objects. Others
were historical, containing an account of particular
events $ others mythological, of which a volume is
preserved in the great library of the order of Bologna :
others were codes of law, civil and religious ; while
some were chronological, astronomical, or astrological $
in which were represented their calendar, the position
of the stars, changes of the moon, eclipses, and prog¬
nostications and variations of the weather. Great
numbers of these were burned by the superstitious
Spaniards, who imagined that they contained some
emblems of heathen worship. They had likewise geo¬
graphical paintings, which served not only to show the
extent and boundaries of their possessions, but likewise
the situation of places, the direction of the coasts,
and the course of the rivers. In his first letter to
779
Charles V. Cortes says, that having made inquiries if Ancient
there was any secure harbour for vessels on the Mexi- Inhabi-
can coast, Montezuma presented him with a painting , tauts-
of the whole coast, from the port of V era Cruz, at that v '"J mJ
time called Chalchiuhuecan, to the river Coatzacualco*
Another author informs us also, that Cortes, in a long
and difficult voyage which he made to the bay of Hon¬
duras, made use of a chart presented to him by the
lords of Coatzacualco, in which all the places and ri¬
vers were marked from the coast of Coatzacualco to
Huejacallan.
The cloth on which paintings were done was made
of the thread of the aloe or a kind of palm ; or they
painted on sheep’s skins or upon paper. This last
was made of the leaves of a certain kind of aloe, steep¬
ed like hemp, and afterwards washed, stretched, and
smoothed. They used also the bark of other trees,
prepared with gum : but we are ignorant of the me¬
thod they used in the manufacture. This paper is si¬
milar in thickness to the European pasteboard, but
softer, smoother, and more easy for writing. In ge¬
neral it was made up in very long sheets, which they
preserved in rolls, or folded like bed-skreens. The
volume of Mexican paintings, preserved in the library
of Bologna, is a thick skin, ill dressed, composed of
different pieces painted all over, and folded up in that
manner. The beautiful colours which they employed
both in their paintings and in their dyes, were obtain¬
ed from Wood, leaves, and the flowers of different
plants, as well as from various animal substances.
Their white was made from a kind of stone which burns
into a fine plaster; or from a mineral, which after being
made into a paste worked like clay, and formed in¬
to small balls, turns white in the fire like Spanish
white. Their black was got from another mineral,
which has a disagreeable smell, or from the soot
of a kind of pine collected in small earthen vessels.
They obtain blue and azut'e colours from indigo ; but
their mode of obtaining these was very different from
that used by the moderns. They put the branches of
the plant into hot, or rather lukewarm, water; and
after having stirred them about for a sufficient time
with a stick or ladle, they passed the water, when
impregnated with the dye, into certain pots or cups,
in which they let it remain until the solid part of the
dye was deposited; after which they poured oft’ the
water. This sediment was first dried in the sun, and
afterwards put between two plates before a fire until
it grew hard. They had another plant which likewise
afforded a blue colour, but inferior to the indigo.
Red was obtained from the seeds of the achiot or rocou,
and purple from cochineal. Their yellows were ochre,
and a colour extracted from the beautiful flower of a
plant resembling artemisla. With nitre these flowers
afforded a fine orange colour; and by means of alum
they extracted other colours.
The Mexican painters were by no means arrived at
much perfection in the knowledge of light and shade,
or of design ; nevertheless, in some of the ancient paint¬
ings, particularly in the portraits of their kings, the
proportions were exactly observed. Besides paintings, The^did
however, the Mexicans are said to have employed hiero- not use hie-
glyphics and characters; but this is absolutely deniedrogtyphics
by Clavigero; who tells us, that “ they represented01 cllurac'
material things by their proper figures ; but, in order L ‘
5 F 2 to
78q M E X
Ancient to save labour, paper, and colours, they contented
tants" tllcmselves with representing part of an object, which
■ y was sufficient to make it understood. But as wre can¬
not understand the writings of others till we have learn¬
ed to x-ead them j in like manner those American
authors, who say that the Mexicans made use of charac¬
ters, required to have been first instructed in the Mexican
manner of representing objects, in order to have been
able to understand the paintings which served them in
place of writing. When they would represent any per¬
son, they painted a man or human head, and over it
a figure expressing the meaning of his name, as appears
in the figures of the Mexican kings. To express a
city or village, they painted in like manner a figure
which signified the same thing with its name. To
form their histories or annals, they painted on the
margin of the cloth or paper the figures of the years
in so many squares, and at the side of each square the
event or events which happened that year: and if, on
account of the number of years, the history of which
they meaut to relate, they could not all be contained
in one canvas, they wei'e continued on another. With
respect to the order of representing the years and
events, it was at the liberty of the historian to begin
at whichever angle of the piece he pleased ; but at the
same time constantly observing, that if the painting
began at the upper angle of the right-hand, he pro¬
ceeded towards the left 5 but if it began, as it most
commonly did, at the upper angle of the left hand,
he proceeded straight downwards. If he painted the
first year at the lower angle of the left, he continued
towards the right; but if he begkn at the lower angle
of the right, he painted straight upwards *, so that on
the upper part of his canvas he never painted from left
to right, nor ever on the lower part from right to left ;
never advanced upwards from the left, nor downwards
from the right. When this method of the Mexicans is
understood, it is easy to discover at first sight which is
the beginning and which the ending of any historical
painting. Their paintings, however, ought not to be
considered as a regular full history, but only as monu¬
ments and aids of tradition. We cannot express too
sti*ongly the care which parents and masters took to in¬
struct their children and pupils in the history of the na-
125 tion. They made them learn speeches and discourses
Careful to which they could not express by the pencil ; tliev put
their tra ^ie even<:s of their ancestors into verse, and taught them
ditions. to s*nS Th'3 tradition dispelled the doubts and
undid the ambiguity which paintings alone might have
occasioned ; and, by the assistance of those monuments,
perpetuated the memory of their heroes and of virtuous
examples, their mythology, rites, laws, and customs.
“ Nor did that people only make use of tradition,
Preserved Pa,nt‘nos? and songs, to preserve the memory of events,
the memory a^so thread-, of different colours and differently
of events by knotted. This curious method of the representation
knotted of things, however much used in Pent, does not appear
tueads. |iave |,een employed in the province of Anahuac, if
not in the most early ages ; for no traces of such mo¬
numents are now to be found. Boturini says, that
after the most diligent search, he with difficulty found
one in a place in Tlascala, the threads of which were
already wasted and consumed by time. If those who
peopled South America ever passed the country of A-
nahuac, they possibly might have left there this art,
i c a
which wras afterwards abandoned for that of painting, rdf in.
introduced by the Toltccaiis or some other nations still
• A, tants.
more ancient.” ■ ^ ,
The Mexicans arrived at greater perfection in sculp- ^
tore, casting of metals, and mosaic works, than in paint-xiicir
ing. Sculpture was likewise one of the arts exercised knowledge
by the ancient Toltecans •, but the Mexicans had sculp-‘n Sf'uii>-
tors among them when they left their native countrytUlC-
of Atztlan. Several of the Toltecan statues, however,
wrere preserved till the time of the conquest, particularly
that of the idol Tlaloc, placed upon the mountain ot
the same name, and some gigantic statues in cneoi their
temples. Stone and wood were the usual materials oi
their statues : the former was worked with a chissel
made of flint *, and, in spite of the unfitness of the instru¬
ment, such was the phlegmatic nature of the people,
that they surmounted every difficulty arising from the
tediousness of the work. In their statues they learned to
express all the attitudes and postures of which the human
body is capable. They observed the proportions exactly,
and could when necessary execute the most delicate
strokes with the chissel. They not only made entire
statues, but cut out in wood and in stone figures in basso
relievo j of which kind are those of Montezuma II.
and one of his sons, recorded with praises by Acosta.
They also made statues of clay and wood, employing
for these a chissel of copper. The number of their sta¬
tues was in proportion to that of their idols j but so
active were the Spanish priests in destroying these, that
there is now scarce any vestige of them remaining.
The foundation of the first church in Mexico was laid
with idols ; on which occasion many thousand statues of
their gods were necessarily broke in pieces. In casting
of metals, however, the Mexicans greatly excelled their IlS
works either of painting or sculpture. “ The miracles Excelled in
they produced of this kind (says Clavigero), would not the art of
be credible, if, besides the testimony of those who saw^stinS'nic'
them, a great number of curiosities of this kind had
not been sent from Mexico to Europe. The works of
gold and silver sent in presents from the conqueror
Cortes to Charles V. filled the goldsmiths of Europe
with astonishment *, who, as sevex*al authors of that pe-
riod attest, declared that they were altogether inimi¬
table. The Mexican founders made both of gold ami
silver the most perfect images of natural bodies. They
made a fish in this manner, which had its scales alter¬
nately one of silver and the other of gold j a parrot
with a moveable head, tongue, and wings; and an ape
"with a moveable head and feet, having a spindle in its
hand in the attitude of spinning. They set gems in
gold and silver, and made most curious jewellery of
great value. In short, these sorts of works were so ad¬
mirably finished, that even the Spanish soldiers, all stung
with the same wretched thirst for gold, valued the work¬
manship above the materials. This wonderful ai't, for¬
merly practised by the Toltecas, the invention of which
they ascribed to one of their gods, has been entirely
lost by the debasement of the Indians, and the indolent
neglect of the Spaniards. w e are doubtful if there are
any remains of those curious works ; at least we appre¬
hend that it would he more easy to find them in some
oi the cabinets of Europe than in all New Spain. Co¬
vetousness to profit by the materials must unquestionably
have conquered all desire to preserve them as curiosi¬
ties.” The works of the Mexicans in gold and silver,
executed
M E X
Ajiflent execute*! with the iiaramef, were much inferior to those
luhabi- of the Europeans.
tants. Rut of all the wdrks executed hy the ancient Mexi-
L ' v "' cans, those of mosaic were the most curious, as well as
Beautiful most highly valued bv themselves. These were made
mosaic. of the feathers of birds •, and for procuring them they
reared a great number of those birds of fine plumage,
with which tiie country abounded, not only in the roval
palaces, but also in private houses ; and at certain sea¬
sons thev carried oft’ the feathers' for these purposes, or
to sell them at market. They valued particularly the
feathers of the humming birds, on account of their
smallness, fineness, and various colours *, and in these,
as well as other birds of fine plumage, nature supplied
them not only with all the colours producible by art,
but likewise Avith many which art cannot imitate.
Their mosaic works, as well as indeed all others of the
Mexicans, required infinite patience. At the under¬
taking of every Avork of this kind several artists assem¬
bled •, and having agreed upon a design, and fixed their
measure and proportions, each artist charged himselfAvith
the execution of a certain part of the image, and exert¬
ed himself so diligently in it, that he frequently spent
a Avhole day in adjusting a feather ; first trying one and
then another, viCAving it sometimes one Avay, then an¬
other, until he found one which gave his part that ideal
perfection proposed to be attained. V* ben the part
Which each artist undertook Avas done, they assembled
again to form the entire image from them. 11 any
part happened to be in the least deranged, it Avas
avrought again until it Avas perfectly finished. They
laid hold of the feathers Avith small pincers, that they
might not do them the least injury, and pasted them
on the cloth with some glutinous matter; then they
united all the parts upon a little table or a plate of cop¬
per, and flattened them softly until they left the surface
of the image so equal and smooth, that it appeared to
he the Avork of a pencil. These Avorks were prodigiously
130 admired by the Spaniards.
Their ar- The Mexicans Avere skilled in architecture even be-
iutectoi-e. fore they ]eft their native country; and many edifices
still remain Ahich Avere constructed by them during
their frequent journeys from one place to another.
At their first arrival on the lake, they had no other
materials to build their houses Avith but reeds and mud,
until the success of their commerce alloAved them to
purchase better materials. When the city came to
its perfection, the houses of the principal people were
constructed of stone and lime : they consisted of Iaao
floors, having halls, large court-yards, and chambers
fitly disposed: the roofs" Avere flat and terraced; the
walls so Avell Avhitened, polished, and shining, that they
appeared to the Spaniards Avhen at a distance to have
been constructed of sil\rcr. T-he floor Avas paA’ed Avith
plaster, perfectly level, plain, and smooth. Many of
their houses Avere croAvned with battlements and tur¬
rets ; and their gardens had fish ponds, and the Avalks
of them symmetrically laid out. I he large houses
had in general tAVO entrances, the principal one to the
street, "the other to the canal : they had no Avooden
doors to their houses, but covered the entrance Avith
small reeds, from Avhence they suspended a string of
cocoa shells, or some other materials Avhicli would make
a, noise, so as to aAvake the attention ol the family
I C O. 781
Avhen any person iitied up the reeds to enter the house. Ancient
-—The houses of the poorer sort Avere constructed of inhabi-
reeds, unburnt bricks, stone, or mud; and the roofs , tal’ts-
made of a kind of a long hay which grows plentifully
in the fields, particularly in the warm parts of the
country. For this purpose they used also the leaves
of the aloe placed in the manner of tiles, to AA’hich
they bear some resemblance both in thickness and
shape. One of the columns or supports of these
houses was generally a tree in the vigour of its
growth ; by Avhich means, besides the pleasure derived
from its foliage and shade, they saved themselves some
labour and expence. These houses had one or more
apartments according to the circumstances of the fa¬
mily.
'ihe ancient Mexicans understood the method of
constructing arches or vaults, as appears from some re¬
mains of their buildings as A\rell as from their paintings*
They had likeAvise cornices and other ornaments of
architecture. They had also square or cylindrical co¬
lumns *, but ft is not knoAvn Avhether they had any capi¬
tals or not. They frequently adorned them with figures
in basso relievo; but their great ambition was to have
them all made out of one stone. The foundations of
the large houses in the capital Avere laid upon beams of
cedar driven into the ground, on account of its Avant of
solidity 5 and the same method is still practised by the
Spaniards. The roofs of these Avere made of cedar, fir,
cypress, pine, &c. In the royal palaces the columns
Avere of marble or even of alabaster, Avhich the Spaniards
mistook for jasper. In the reign of Ahuizotl a neAV kind
of stone, named tet%ontli, Avas discovered in the Mexi¬
can lake, Avhich Avas ever aftenvards made use of for
building. It is hard, light, and porous like a sponge ;
by which means the lime adheres very firmly to it. It
is valued likeAvise on account of its colour, which is a
blood red. Some of the pavements Avere chequered
Avith marble and otjier valuable stones. ^
The most remarkable pieces of Mexican architecture Remark-
Avere their aqueducts. There wex*e tAvo which con- able aque-
veyed the water to the capital from the distance of tAvo^ucts-
miles. These Avere constructed of stone and cement,
five feet high, and tAvo paces broad, upon a read for
that purpose upon the lake ; by Avhich the Avater Avas
brought to the entrance of the city, from Avhence it
Avas sent forth in smaller channels to supply the differ¬
ent fountains. The famous aqueduct of Chempoallan,
Avhich Avas done in the 16th century, is Avorthy of be¬
ing ranked among the greatest in Europe. The con¬
ductor of this work Avas a Franciscan missionary named
Temblcque; and it Avas executed with great skill by
the Chempoallcse. The Avater A\ras brought from a
great distance, and the country through which it must
pass was mountainous and rocky ; but every difficulty
Avas overcome by the industry of the Mexicans. The
aqueduct, including all the turnings and av in dings,
exceeded 30 miles in length. The principal difficulty
consisted in crossing three great precipices, over which
they Avere obliged to construct three bridges, the first
of 47, the second of 13, and the third of 67 arches.
The largest arch Avas 100 feet high, and 61 broad j
so that a large vessel could have passed under it. It
must, hoAvever, be observed, that, in executing this un¬
dertaking, the Mexicans were undoubtedly assisted by
European
M E X
■European tools, and the directions of European work¬
men ; so that we cannot with strict propriety call it one
of their works.
They were expert jewellers, and understood the art
Excellent of cutting and polishing the stones, as well as of setting
jewellers, them. The gems most common in their country were
the emeralds, amethysts, carnelians, turquoises, and
some others. Emeralds were so common, that no
lord or noble wanted them ; and none of them died
without having one fixed to his lip, that it might serve
him, as they imagined, in the other world, instead of
a heart. When Cortes returned the first time to Spain,
he brought with him five emeralds, valued, by the
jewellers there, at 100,000 ducats. The first was in
the form of a rose 5 the second of a horn j the third
of a little fish with eyes of gold 5 the fourth in the
form of a bell, with a fine pearl for a clapper. The
fifth was a small cup with a foot of gold, and four little
golden chains which united in a pearl in the form of a
button. Eor this alone the Genoese merchants ofiered
40,000 ducats, in order to sell it again to the grand
signior. Besides these, he had two emerald vases va¬
lued at 300,000 ducats ; but these last were lost by ship¬
wreck in: the unfortunate expedition of Charles V.
against Algiers. There are no such gems wrought at
present, nor is it even known where the emerald mines
are situated ) though it is said there are still some large
pieces of this precious stone in some of the churches;
but the priests take care to secure them with iron chains,
lest they should be carried off'.
In other more common manufactures the Mexicans
'were by no means deficient. The earthen ware of
Cholula was much praised by the Spaniards j and they
had the art of ornamenting this kind of wax-e with va¬
rious colours, though they did not understand the
making of glass. Their carpenters wrought with in-
struments of copper; and there are still remains of
their labours which display a tolerable skill. Almost
every oxxe was acquainted with the method of making
cloth. Being destitute of wool, common silk, lint,
or hemp, they were obliged to supply the deficiency
by other materials. For wool they substituted cotton,
for silk they used feathers, the wool of the hare or
rabbit; and instead of lint and hemp, they used the fi¬
brous paid of the leaves of the aloe. Fi-om these last
they obtained a thread as fine as from lint 5 and from
some species they had a coarser sort resembling hemp.
To obtain this thread they soaked the leaves in water,
L cleaned them, exposed them to the sun, and then beat
them till they were fit to be spun. Sometimes they in¬
terwove with their cotton the finest down on the belly
of the x’abbits or hares, after having spun it into thread;
and of these they made most beautiful cloths, which
were particularly used, for; winter waistcoats for the
lords. Their cotton manufactures were equal to any
produced in Europe ;■ they wove them with different
figures and colours, representing different animals and
flowers. Of feathers interwoven with cotton they made
mantles and bed-curtains, carpets, gowns, &c. These
were exceedingly beautiful; but this kind of manufac¬
ture is now lost, though there are still some of these
garments in the possession of the principal lords, who
134 -wear them upon solemn occasions.
Then hor- All these advances towards civilization, however, in
uble reli- fcthe ancient Mexicans, were much more than counter-
gloa.
i.33
Manufac¬
tures of dif¬
ferent
kinds.
I c o.
balanced by the horrible barbarities they committed in Ancient
their religious ceremonies, and in which they exceeded Inhabi-
every nation on earth. Human sacrifices were indeed tHnls
in use among all the ancient heathens ; but such pro- " ^ J
digious massacres at tile dedication of their temples are
unheard of in liistoi-y. Whether they used these bar¬
barous sacrifices in their own country, or whether the
practice began with that of the four Xochimilca pri¬
soners, is not known ; but as they only used their pri¬
soners or slaves whom they bought in this way, it is im¬
possible that, during the infancy of their state, the num¬
ber of human victims could have been very great.
Most of those unhappy creatures perished by having
their bi’easts opened, and their hearts pulled cut; some
wrere drowned, others starved to death with hunger;
and sometimes they were burnt. Prisoners of high
rank were allowed to die by what Clavigero calls the r35
gladiatorian sacrifice, which was performed in the fol- ^^diatori-
lowing manner: Near to the greater temple of large' 1 ce’
cities, in an open space of ground sufficient to contain
an immense number of people, was a round terrace
eight feet high, upon which was placed a large round
stone resembling a millstone in shape, but much larger,
almost three feet high, well polished, and having figures
cut upon it. On this stone, which. was called tcmal-
catl, the prisoner was placed, armed with a shield and
short sword, and tied by one foot. Here he was en¬
countered by a Mexican officer or soldier better armed
than himself. If the prisoner was vanquished, he was
carried, dead or alive, to the temple, where his heart
was taken out and offered in the usual manner ; but if
he conquered six combatants, he gained his life and li¬
berty. An instance, however, is given in which this
custom was infringed; for the Huetzotzincas having
taken the principal lord of Cholula, a man of singular
-bravery, fie overcame seven combatants ; notwithstand¬
ing which he was put to death; but on this account the
Huetzotzincas were rendered for ever infamous among
these nations. z
Historians differ concerning the number of victims Number of
who perished annually in these sacrifices: Clavigerohuinan'd®*
inclines to think it was 20,000, but others make it11'115 a,mu'
much more. Zumarraga, the first bishop of Mexico, 1
says in a letter of the 12th of June 153I) addressed to
the general chapter of his order, that in that capi¬
tal alone there were above 20,000 victims annually sa-
cx-ificed. Some authors, quoted by Gomara, say that
50,000 were annually sacrificed in the various parts of
the empix-e. Acosta says, that there was a cei'tain day
of the year on which they sacrificed 5000 victims, and
another on which 20,000 xvere saci'ificed. According to
others they sacrificed, on the mountain Tepeyacac on¬
ly, 20,000 annually to one of their female deities. On
the other hand, Bai'tholomew de las Casas reduces the
number of human victims to 50 or at most to 100.
“ We are strongly of opinion (says Clavigej-o), that all
these authors have erred in the number ; Las Casas by
diminution, and the rest by exaggerating the truth.”
Besides the cruelties which they practised up- Their mon-
on others, the Mexicans were accustomed to treat stro!ls.au"
themselves with the most inhuman austerities, think-stenttes'
ing that the diabolical rage of their deities would
be appeased by human blood. “ It makes one shud¬
der (says Clavigei’o), to read the austerities which
they practised upon themselves, either in atonement
for
M E X
Ancient f°r their transgressions, or in preparation of their
Inliabi- festivals. They mangled their flesh as if it had been
tants , insensible, and let their blood run in such profusion as
if it had been a superfluous fluid in the body. The
effusion of blood was frequent and daily with some
of their priests. They pierced themselves with the
sharpest spines of the aloe, and bored several parts of
their bodies, particularly their ears, lips, tongue, and
the fat of their arms and legs. Through the holes
which they made with these spines they introduced
pieces of cane, the first of which were small ; but every
time this penitential suffering was renewed, a thicker
piece was made use of. The blood which flowed from
them was carefully collected in the leaves of the plant
aczojatl. They fixed the bloody spines in little balls of
hay, which they exposed upon the battlements of the
walls of the temple, to testify the penance which they
did for the people. Those who exercised such severities
upon themselves within the enclosure of the greater
temple of Mexico, bathed in a pond that was formed
there, and which, from being always tinged with blood,
was called czapun?''
138 The dress of the Mexicans was very simple ; that
'heirdress, ef the men consisted only of a large belt or girdle, the
two ends of which hung down before and behind $ the
women wore a square mantle, about four feet long j
the two ends were tied upon the breast or upon one
shoulder. The Mexican gown was also a piece of
square cloth, in which the women wrapped themselves
from the Avaist down to the middle of the leg. They
wore also a small under vest or waistcoat without sleeves,
named huepillu
The dress of the poorer sort Avas made of the thread
ef the mountain palm, or of coarse cotton : but those
of better station Avore the finest cotton, embellished
with various colours, and figures of animals or floAvers ;
or Avoven with feathers, or the fine hair of the rab¬
bit, &c. The men wore two or three mantles, and
the women three or four vests, and as many gOAvns,
putting the longest undermost, so that a part of each
of them might be seen. Their shoes were only soles
of leather, or coarse cloth of the mountain palm tied
Avith strings •, but those of the great people Avere adorn¬
ed Avith ribbands of gold and jeAvels. They all Avore
long hair, and thought themselves dishonoured by be¬
ing shaA^ed, or having their hair clipped, except the con¬
secrated virgins in the temple. The Avomen Avore it
loose ; but the men tied it up in different forms, and
adorned their heads Avith fine feathers, both Avhen they
danced and Avent to war. With this simplicity, hoAvever,
they mixed no small quantity of extravagance. Besides
feathers and jeAvels, with which they used to adorn their
heads, they Avore ear-rings, pendants at their upper lip,
as Avell as many at their noses, necklaces, bracelets for
the hands and arms, as well as certain rings like col¬
lars which thev wore about their legs. The ear-rings
of the poor were shells, pieces of crystal, amber, &c. j
but the rich wore pearls, emeralds, anlethysts, or other
gems set in gold.
Instead of soap the Mexicans used a kind of fruit
called copalxocotl; the pulp of which is Avhite, viscous,
and very bitter, makes Avater Avhite, raises a froth, and
will clean linen like soap. They used also a kind of
root named amolli^ wh.ch is not unlike the saponana of
I c o.
the old continent. It is now more used for Avashing the
body, especially the head than for clothes. Clavigero
says, that there is a kind of this root Avhich dyes the
hair of a golden colour, and that he has been Avitness to
this effect on the hair of an old man. ^
It is generally believed, that the first conquerors mas- Mexicans
sacred the Indians out of Avantonness, and that eAren the cruelly
priests incited them to these acts of ferocity. Undoubt- tfeatec* ^
edly these inhuman soldiers frequently shed blood w*tli"ards^^ani"
out evren an apparent motive ; and certainly their fana¬
tic missionaries did not oppose these barbarities as they
ought to have done. The cruelties exercised upon 140
them, hoAvever, at length raised up a protector for them ^ ait hoi o-
in the person of Bartholomew de las Casas. Casas^takcs
This man, so famous in the annals of the new their part,
world, had accompanied his father in the first voyage
made by Columbus. The mildness and simplicity of
the Indians affected him so strongly, that he made
himself an ecclesiastic, in order to devote his labours
to their conversion. But this soon became the least
of his attention. As he Avas more a man than a
priest, he felt more for the cruelties exercised against
them than for their superstitions. He was continually
hurrying from one hemisphere to the other, in order
to comfort the people for Avhom he had conceived an
attachment, or to soften their tyrants. This con¬
duct, which made him be idolized by the one and
dreaded by the other, had not the success he expected.
The hope of striking aAAre, by a character revered
among the Spaniards, determined him to accept the
bishoprick of Chiapa in Mexico. \\ hen he was con¬
vinced that this dignity Avas an insufficient hairier
against that avarice and cruelty Avhich he endeavour¬
ed to check, he abdicated it. It Avas then that this
courageous, firm, disinterested man, accused his coun¬
try before the tribunal of the Avhole universe. In his
account of the tyranny of the Spaniards in America,
he accuses them of having destroyed 15,000,000 of
Indians. They ventured to find fault Avith the acri¬
mony of his style j but no one convicted him of
exaggeration. His Avritings, Avhich indicate the ami¬
able turn of his disposition, and the sublimity of his
sentiments, have stamped a disgrace upon his barba¬
rous countrymen, which time hath not, and never Avill, »
efface. ^
The court of Madrid, aAvakened by the representa-Tkeir con-
tions of the virtuous Las Casas, and by the indigna- dition ren-
tion of the whole Avorld, became sensible at last, that ^erec* S0I!ie‘'
the tyranny it permitted was repugnant to religion,wliateas,ier*
to humanity, and to policy } and resolved to break the
chains of the Mexicans. Their liberty Avas now only
constrained by the sole condition, that they should
not quit the territory where they Avere settled. This
precaution OAved its origin to the fear that was enter¬
tained of their going to join the Avandering savages to
the north and south of the empire.
The city of Mexico is situated in a valley of the
same name, which is of an oval form, about 67 leagues
in circumference, and bounded by mountains. The
lakes, five in number, occupy about one tenth of the
surface of the valley. The city is noAv about a mile
distant from the west side of the lake Tezcuco, Avhich
surrounded it in the time of Cortes. The soil on Avhich
it stands is about 7200 feet above the sea, a height ex¬
ceeding
M E X
Cecil lug that of the pass of-St GotaariL Mexico is one
of the finest cities ever built by Europeans in either
hemisphere. The ground is very level, the streets
broad and regular, the style of the architecture is ge¬
nerally pure, and some of the buildings truly beautiful.
The streets have foot pavements, and are kept clean
and well lighted by an excellent police. Among the
objects worthy of notice are the cathedral, the treasury,
the convent of St Francis, the hospital, the school of
mines with its fine collections in physics, mechanics,
and mineralogy, the botanic garden, the university,
and academy of fine arts, the equestrian statue of
Charles IV. of great beauty and colossal size, weigh¬
ing 450 quintals, and made by a native artist. The
most considerable monuments of ancient Mexican art
remaining are two pyramids on the north-east side of the
lake Tezcuco, the larger of which has at present a base
of 682 feet in length, with an elevation of 180. The
faces of these pyramids correspond with considerable
exactness to the cardinal points of the compass. The
population of the city in 1803 was about 137,000, of
which 2500 were Europeans, 65,000 white Creoles,
33,000 Indians, 26,500 Mestizoes, and 10,000 Mu-
lattoes. The convents contain about 1200 men, and
2100 women. The clergy of the city exceed 2000,
exclusive of lay brothers and novices. The whole in¬
tendancy of Mexico contains 5927 square leagues.
The only considerable towns in it beside the capital,
are Queretaro containing 35,000 inhabitants, and the
port of Acapulco, on the South sea, containing 9000.
The most considerable cities in the other parts of
New Spain are, La Puebla, containing 67,000 inha¬
bitants } Guanaxuato, which contains, including the rich
mines in its neighbourhood, 70,000 inhabitants ; Zaca¬
tecas, also situated in a x'ich mining district, contains
33,000 } Oaxaca, 24,000 \ Vera Cruz, the principal
port in the colony, but unhealthy in its situation, has
only a population of 16,000.
The population of New Spain is in a state of rapid
inci-ease, as appears from the registers of births and
burials, which are kept iu many places with great ac¬
curacy. The proportion of births to deaths throughout
the kingdom, is as 170 to 1 co. In some part of the
table land-the proportion is as high as 253 to 100 j but
at Panuco on the coast of the North sea, it was as low as
123 to 100.
A very great inequality of fortune prevails in Mexi¬
co. The count of ^ alenciana enjoys an income of
about ioo,oool. sterling per annum, of which three
fourths are derived from his mine. The marquis of
Fagoaga drew 83,000!. sterling, from a single mine
in six months. The count of Regia built two first-
rate men of war, at his own exponce, and made a pre¬
sent of them to his sovereign. Close to this wealth is
to be seen the most wretched poverty. In the city of
Mexico alone, there are from 20,000 to 30,000 Sam-
gates and Guacbinangoes, who can be compared only to
the Lazaroni of Naples. Quiet, sober, and indolent,
they give occasion to no alarm, though they are half
naked, and pass the night in the street, under the cano¬
py of heaven. This inequality of condition exists
equally among the clergy. The archbishop of Mexico
has a revenue of 130,000 dollars; there are four
bishops whose revenues are from 80,000 to 110,coo
ICO.
each, while many of the parish clergy have not above Volcapoei
100 dollars a year. The whole Mexican clergy in-and Insur-
eluding lay brothers and sisters,does not exceed 13,000 V^tl015-
or 14,000. The revenues arise chiefly from tithes, 'rm~
the church lands being inconsiderable.
There are five burning volcanoes in New Spain,
Orizaba, Popecatepetl, Tustla, Jorullo, and Colima.
The second of these is 17,700 feet in height, which is
2000 feet higher than Mount Blanc. It is situated at
the south-east extremity of the valley of Mexico, and
is visible from the capital! The Pic d’ Orizaba has
nearly the same elevation. The mountain Jorullo,
which rises 1690 feet above the surrounding plains,
was thrown up by a volcanic eruption in 1759* Several
of these mountains, and some others that seem to be
extinguished volcanies, ascend beyond the inferior li¬
mit of perpetual snow, which has here an elevation of
8360 feet. The snow is carried to Mexico and other
cities, where it is sold, and pays duty as an article of
luxury. Vera Cruz is supplied from the volcano of
Orizaba, at the distance of 28 leagues, over which space
the snow is carried on the backs of mules.
The extraordinary events in Old Spain, which pro¬
duced revolutions in some of the other American colo¬
nies, also led to an insurrection in Mexico. An exten¬
sive conspiracy was formed, at the head of which were
some ecclesiastics and military officers; but the secret
was betrayed, and the conspirators were prematurely
driven to take up arms in September 181c. They
were under the command of Hidalgo a priest; and hav¬
ing been joined by some parties of cavalry and infantry,
they got possession of Guanaxuato, a large town.
Great numbers declared for them in all parts of the
country. After defeating some divisions of military, Hi¬
dalgo advanced to the neighbourhood of the capital ;
but discouraged by the means of defence which the new
viceroy had collected, and hearing of the defeat of
some of his adherents in other quarters, he retired.
He was followed by a considerable military force,
routed in several engagements, great part of his troops,
who consisted chiefly of Indians ■without firelocks,
were dispersed, and himself taken and shot in July 1811-
His partizans, however, under Morelos continued the
war, and gained occasional successes. Zitaquaro, a
city containing 10,000 inhabitants, in which they had
established themselves, was taken by the royalists, and
utterly rased in the beginning of 1812. Jn the same
year the insurgents were joined by Toledo, who had
been a member of the cortes for Spanish America,
and brought with him a few troops from the United
States ; but he was soon compelled to seek safety in
flight. In 1814 the insurgents called a congress,
which issued a democratic constitution in October.
In 1815 Morelos when marching to the coast to join
Toledo and General Humbert, who had brought a sup¬
ply of arms, was surprised, taken prisoner, and shortly
after executed. His death broke the strength of the
insurgents, though guerilla parties still traversed the
country. In 1816 a new attempt was made by Colo¬
nel Mina, who had distinguished himself in the wars in
the peninsula. He landed at Matagorda, and appears
to have made some progress at first ; but was finally '
surrounded and taken by the royal troops in Novem¬
ber 1817. The new viceroy Apodaca, by following
M E X
tnsuiTec- a lenient and conciliatory system, has restored some
Uon' ■ d®Sree “ order and quiet to the colony j but bands
ol guerillas still maintain themselves in different parts,
ICO. ' ' 785
and interrupt the communications between the ca- Insurrcc-
pital and the sea coast. See article Mexico, Sup- tidn.
PLEMENT.   '
M E X
Mexico. MEXICO, New, so called because it was dis-
V ■' co%eied later than Old Mexico, a country of North
America, lying on the eastern side of the northern
Andes, or Stony mountains, and extending from the
31st to the 38th degree of latitude. Its length from
north to south is 175 leagues, and its breadth from
east to west from 30 to 50. Its surface covers 5700
square leagues, and it contained in 1803 40*200 inha¬
bitants according to Humboldt. It is fertile, but is
believed to be destitute of metallic wealth. It is wa¬
tered through its whole extent by the Rio del Norte,
the banks of which are picturesque, and are adorned
with beautiful poplars, and other trees peculiar to the
temperate zone.
Though under the same latitude with Syria and
central Persia, this country has a remarkably cold cli¬
mate. Near Santa Fe, and a little further north, the
Rio del Norte is sometimes covered for a succession of
several years with ice thick enough to admit the pas¬
sage of horses and carriages. The mountains which
bound the valley of the Rio del Norte, lose their snow
towards the beginning of the month of June.
AT.^!e de^ ^orte has a periodical swell like the
Mississippi. Its waters, which are always muddy,
begin to rise in April, are at their height in May, and
fall towards the end of June. The inhabitants can
only fold the river on horses ol an extraordinary size,
during the drought of summer. Humboldt informs us
that in 1752, the whole bed of this river, for more than
30 leagues above and 20 leagues below Passo del
Norte, became dry of a sudden, the ivater having pre¬
cipitated itself into a newly formed chasm, and only
made its re-appearance near the Presidio de San Elea-
zario j at length, after the lapse of several vreeks, the
water resumed its ancient course, no doubt because the
chasm and the subterraneous conductors had been filled
up.. In the northern part of New Mexico, rivers take
their rise which run into the Mississippi.
The colonists of this province, known for their great
eneigy of character, live in a state of perpetual
warfare with the neighbouring Indians. It is on ac¬
count of this insecurity of the country life, that we find
the towns more populous than we should expect in so
desert a country. Some commercial intercourse exists
however, between the whites and the Indians, and it is
carried on in a singular manner. 'The savages plant
upon the road from Chihuahua to Santa Fe, small
crosses, to which they suspend a leathern pocket, with
a piece of stag’s flesh j and below a buffalo’s hide is
stretched. The Indian indicates by these signs that
he wishes to exchange hides for provisions with the
men who adore the cross. The soldiers of the Presi¬
dios, who understand these signs, take away the buffalo
hide and leave some salted flesh at the foot of the cross,
f his system of commerce indicates at once an extra¬
ordinary mixture of good faith and distrust.
Vol. XIII. Part II. 4.
M E Z
The Indians to the west of the Rio del Norte are in New
a much less barbarous state than the wandering tribes J'lexic»,
on the east. Father Garces who visited the country, Mezeray
of the Moqui in 1773, was surprised to find an Indian
town with two great squares, houses of several stories,
and streets ivell laid out and parallel to one another.
Here, and m other points on the west coast, every thing
appears to announce traces of the cultivation of the an¬
cient Mexicans.
The province of New Mexico contains 3 towns,
26 villages, 3^ parishes, 19 missions, and no solitary
farm. Santa le the capital, has a population of 36005
Albuquerque 6000, and Taos 8900.
MEZERAY, Francis Eudes de, an eminent
French historian, the son of Isaac Eudes a surgeon, was
born at Rye, in Lower Normandy, in 16105 and took
the surname of Mczeray, from a hamlet near Rye.
Having performed his studies at Caen, he discovered a
strong inclination to poetry; but going to Paris, he,
by the advice of one of his friends, applied himself to
the study of politics and history, and procured the
place of commissary at war, which he held for two cam¬
paigns. He then shut himself up in the college of St
Rarbe, in the midst of books and manuscripts 5 and, in
1^43» published the first volume of the History of
France, in folio 5 and some years after, the other two
volumes. Mezeray in that work surpassed all who had
written the history of France before him, and was re¬
warded by the king with a pension of 4000 livres. In
1668, he published an Abridgement of his History of
France, in three volumes 4to, which was well received
by the public ; but as he inserted in that work the ori¬
gin of most of the taxes, with very free reflections, M.
Colbert complained of it, when Mezeray promised to
correct what he had done in a second edition; but those
corrections being only palliations, the minister caused
half of his pension to be suppressed. Mezeray com¬
plained of this in very severe terms ; when he obtained
no other answer than the suppression of the other half.
Vexed at this treatment, he resolved to write on sub¬
jects that could not expose him to such disappoint¬
ments 5 and composed his treatise on the origin of the
I rench, which did him much honour. He was elect¬
ed perpetual secretary to the French academy 5 and
died in 1683. He is said to have been a man extreme¬
ly negligent in his person, and so careless in his dress,
that he might have passed for a begger rather than
for what he was. He was actually seized one morning
by the archers des pauvres, or parish officers 5 which
mistake was so far from provoking him, that he was
highly diverted with it, and told them, that “ he was
not able to walk on foot, but that as soon as a new
wheel was put to his chariot, he would attend them
wherever they thought proper.” He used to study
and write by candle light, even at noon-day in sum¬
mer ; and, as if there had been no sun in the world,
5 G always .
Mezeray
l!
Jfezuzoth.
M E 2 [ 786 ] M E Z
always v/aiietl upon his company to the door with a
candle in his hand. With regard to religion, he affect¬
ed Pyrrhonism ; which however was not, it seems, so
much in his heart as in his mouth. This appeared
from his last sickness ; for having sent for those friends
who had been the most usual witnesses of his licentious
talk about religion, he made a sort of recantation,
which he concluded with desiring them “ to forget
what he might formerly have said upon the subject of
religion, and to remember, that Mezeray dying was a
better believer than Mezeray in health.” Besides his
history, he also wrote, 1. A continuation of the history
of the Turks. 2. A French translation of John de Sa¬
lisbury’s Latin treatise on the vanities of the court.
3. There are attributed to him several satires against
the government •, and in particular, those that bear the
name of Sandricourt.
MEZIERS, a strong town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Ardennes, with a citadel. It was besieged
with a powerful army by Charles V. who was obliged to
raise the siege in 1521. It is seated on the river Maese,
partly upon a hill, and partly in a valley, in E. Long.
4. 48. N. Lat. 49. 46.
MEZIMAC, ClaudeGaspar Backet Sieurde,
one of the most ingenious men of the 17th century, was
born at Bresse, of an ancient and noble family. He
was a good poet in French, Italian, and Latin j an ex¬
cellent grammarian, a great Greek scholar, and an ad¬
mirable critic. He was well versed in the controversies,
both in philosophy and religion ; and was deeply skill¬
ed in algebra and geometry, of the former of which he
gave proof by publishing the six books of Diophantus,
enriched with a very able commentary and notes. In
his youth he spent a considerable time at Paris and at
Home •, at wdiich last place he wrote a small collection
of Italian poems, in competition with Vaugelas, who
was there at the same time ; among which there are
imitations of the most beautiful similes contained in
the first eight books of the iEneid. He also translat¬
ed Ovid’s Epistles ; a great part of which he illustrat¬
ed with very curious commentaries of his own. Whilst
lie was at Paris, they talked of making him preceptor
of Louis XIII. upon which he left the court in great
haste, and afterwards declared that he had never felt so
much pain upon any occasion of his life j for he seemed
to have already upon his sliouldcrs the important
weight of the whole kingdom. He undertook the
translation of all Plutarch’s works, with notes 5 which
he had brought nearly to a conclusion, when he died
at Bourg, in Bresse, anno 1638, at 45 years of age.
He left behind him several finished works, that were
not printed.
MEZUZOTH, in the Jewish customs, certain
pieces of parchment, which the Jews fix to the door¬
posts of their houses, taking that literally which Moses
commands them, saying, “ Thou shalt never foi-get
the laws of thy God, but thou shalt write them upon
the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.” This
expression means nothing else, but that thou shalt
always remember them, whether thou comest into
thy house or goest out. But the Hebrew doctors
imagined, that the lawgiver meant something more
than this. They pretended that, to avoid making
themselves ridiculous, by writing the commandments
of God without their doors, or rather to avoid exposing
themselves to the profanation of the wicked, they Mczuzoth,
ought at least to write them on a parchment, and to Myzzo-
enclose it in something. Therefore they wrote these , tiut0, .
words upon a square piece of parchment prepared on
purpose, with a particular ink, and in a square kind of
character. Dent. vi. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. “ Hear, O
Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord,” &c.—Then
they left a little space, and afterwards went on, Deut.
xi. 13. “ And it shall come to pass if thou shalt
hearken diligently to my commandments,” &.c. as far
as, “ Thou shalt write them upon the door-posts of thy
house,” &c. After this they rolled up the parchment,
and put it into a case of reeds or other matter ; they
wrote on the end of the case the word Shaddai, which
is one of the names of God 5 and they put it at the doors
of their houses, chambers, and all places most frequent¬
ed ; they fixed it to the knockers of the door, on the
right side •, and as often as they entered in or went out
they touched it in this place, with the end of their
finger, which they afterwards kissed out of devotion.
The Hebrew word mer&u%a properly signifies the door¬
posts of a house; but it is also given to this roll of
parchment now mentioned.
MEZZOTINTO, a particular manner of represent¬
ing figures on copper, so as to form prints in imitation
of painting in Indian ink. See Engraving.
The invention of this art has been usually attribut¬
ed to Prince Rupert. But Baron Heinikin, a very
judicious and accurate writer upon the subject of en¬
graving, asserts, with great appearance of truth, that
it was a lieutenant-colonel de Siegan, an officer in the
service of the landgrave of Hesse, who first engraved
in this manner : and that the print which he produ¬
ced was a portrait of the princess Amelia Elizabeth
of Hesse, engraved in the year 1643. Prince Rupert
learned the secret from this gentleman, and brought
it into England when he came over the second time
with Charles II. Prince Rupert’s print of An Exe¬
cutioner holding a Sword in one Hand and a Head
in the other, a half length, from Spagnoletto, is da¬
ted 1658. This art has never been cultivated with
success in any country hut England.
The prince laid his grounds on the plate with a
channelled roller : but one Sherwin, about the same
time, laid his grounds ivith a half-round file, which
was pressed down with a heavy piece of lead. Both
these grounding tools have been laid aside for many
years $ and a hand tool, resembling a shoe-maker’s cut¬
ting hoard knife, with a fine crenelling on the edge,
was introduced by one Edial, a smith by trade, who
afterwards became a mezzotinto painter.
It is very different from the common way of en¬
graving. To perform it, they rake, hatch, or punch,
the surface of the plate all over with a knife, or in¬
strument made for the purpose, first one way, then the
other, across, &c. till the surface of the plate be thus
entirely furrowed with lines or furrows, close and as
it were contiguous to each other ■, so that, if an. im¬
pression was then taken from it, it would be one uni¬
form blot or smut. This done, the design is drawn
or marked on the same face 5 alter which, they proceed '
with burnishers, scrapers, &c. to expunge and take
out the dents or furrows, in all parts where the
lights of the piece are to be 5 and that more or less as
the lights are to be stronger or fainter j leaving those
parts
M E Z
[
shadows
parts black which are to represent the
deepenings of the draught.
As it is much easier to scrape or burnish away parts
of a dark ground corresponding with the outline of
any design sketched upon it, than to form shades upon
a light ground by an infinite number of hatches,
strokes, and points, which must all terminate with ex¬
actness on the outline, as well as differ in their force
and manner 5 the method of scraping, as it is called,
in mezzotinto, consequently becomes much more easy
and expeditious than any other method of engraving.
The instruments used in this kind of engraving are
cradles, scrapers and burnishers.
In this engraving, the plate must be prepared and
polished in the same manner as for other engraving j
and afterwards divided equally by lines parallel to
each other, and traced out with veiy soft chalk.—
The distance of these lines should be about one-third
of the length of the face of the cradle which is to
be used, and these lines should be marked with capi¬
tal letters, or strokes of the chalk. The cradle is
then tor be placed exactly betwixt the two first lines,
and passed forwards in the same direction j being kept
as steady as possible, and pressed upon with a moderate
force. The same operation must be repeated with re¬
spect to all other lines ; till the instrument has thus
passed over the whole surface of the plate.—Other lines
must be then drawn from the extremities of the other
two sides, in the same manner j which, intersecting the
first at right angles, will with them form squares ; and
the same operation must be repeated with the cradle as
in the case of the first. New lines must then be drawn
diagonally, and the cradle passed betwixt them as be¬
fore ; and when the first diagonal operation is perform¬
ed, the lines must be crossed at right angles as the for¬
mer, and the cradles passed betwixt them in the same
manner.—The plate having undergone the action of the
cradle, according to the disposition of the first order of
lines, a second set must be formed, having the same di¬
stances from each other as the first. But they must be
so placed as to divide those already made into spaces
one-third less than their whole extent j i. e. every one
after the first on each side will take in one-third of that
before it, e. g. beginning at A, of which the first third
must be left out; a third of B will consequently be
taken in, and so of the rest. These lines of the second
order must be marked with small letters, or lesser strokes,
to distinguish them from the first: and the same treat¬
ment of the plate must be pursued with respect to them
as was practised for the others. When this second
operation is finished, a third order of lines must be
made , the first of which, e. g. in A, must omit two-
thirds of it, and consequently take in two-thirds of
B, &c. By these means, the original spaces will be
exactly divided into equal thirds ; and the cradle must
be again employed betwixt these lines as before.—
When the whole of this operation is finished, it is
called one turn ; but in order to produce a very dark
and uniform ground, the plate must undergo the re¬
petition of all these several operations for above
twenty times; beginning to pass the cradle again be¬
twixt the first lines, and proceeding in the same man¬
ner through all the rest. When the plate is prepared
with a proper ground, the sketch must be chalked on
it, by rubbing the paper on the backside with chalk.
787 ] M E Z
It is also proper to overtrace it afterwards with black
lead or Indian ink. The scraping is then performed,
by paring or cutting away the grain of the ground
in various degrees j so that none of it is left in the
original state except in the touches of the strongest
shade. The general manner of proceeding is the same
as drawing with white upon black paper. The masses
of light are first begun with ; and those parts which go
off into light in their upper part, but are brown below:
the reflections are then entered upon ; after which the
plate is blackened with a printer’s blacking ball made
of felt, in order to discover the effect: and then the
work is proceeded with; observing always to begin
every part in the places where the strongest lights are
to be.
The art of scraping mezzotintos has been applied
to the printing with a variety of colours, in order t*
produce the resemblance of paintings. The inventor
of the method of doing this was J. C. Le Blon, a na¬
tive of Frankfort, and pupil of Carlo Marata, between
the years 1720 and 1730. It was established by the
inventor on this principle, that there are three primi¬
tive colours, of which all the rest may be composed
by mixing them in various proportions ; that any tws
of these colours being mixed together, preserve their
original power, and only produce a third colour suet
as their compound must necessarily give ; but if trans¬
parent colours be mixed, and three primitive kinds com¬
pounded together, they destroy each other, and produce
black, or a tendency to it, in proportion to the equa¬
lity or inequality of the mixture j and that if, there¬
fore, these three colours be laid, either separately or
upon each other, by three plates, engraved correspond-
ently on these principles to the colouring of the de¬
sign, the whole variety of teints necessary may be pro¬
duced. The requisites, therefore, to the execution of
any design in this method of printing are as follows :
1. To settle a plan of the colouring to be imitated j
showing where the presence of each of the three
simple colours is necessary, either in its pure state or
combined with some other, to produce the effect re¬
quired ; and to reduce this plan to a painted sketch of
each, in which not only the proper outlines, hut the
degree of strength should be expressed. 2. To en¬
grave three plates according to this plan, which may
print each of the colours exactly in the places where,
and proportion in which, they are wanted. 3. To
find three transparent substances proper for printing
with these three primitive colours. The manner in
which M. le Blon prepared the plates was as fol¬
lows : The three plates of copper were first well fitted
with respect to size and figure to each other, and
grounded in the same manner as those designed for
mezzotinto prints : and the exact place and boundary
of each of the three primitive colours, conformably
to the design, were sketched out on three papers,
answering in dimensions to the plate. These sketches
were then chalked on the plates ; and all the parts of
each plate that were not to convey the colour to which
it was appropriated to the print, were entirely scraped
away, as in forming the light of mezzotinto prints.
The parts that were to convey the colours were then
worked upon j and where the most light or diluted
teints of the colour were to be, the grain in the
ground was proportionably taken off j but where the
5 C 2 full
Mczjfo
tinto.
M I C [ 788 ] MIC
'Mez/?o- full colour was required, it was left entire. In this
tin to regard was had, not only to the effects of the colour
^ in its simple state, hut to its combined operation, ei-
. ther in producing orange-colour, green, or purple, by
its admixture with one alone j and likewise to its
forming brown, gray, and shades of different degrees,
by its co-operation with both the others. But though
the greatest part of the engraving was performed in
the mezzotinto manner, yet the graver was employed
occasionally for strengthening the shades, and for cor¬
recting the outline where it required great accuracy
and steadiness. It was found necessary sometimes to
have two separate plates for printing the same colour,
in order to produce a stronger effect : but the second
plate, which was used to print upon the first, was in¬
tended only to glaze and soften the colours in parti¬
cular parts that might require it. With respect to the
black and brown teints, which could not be so conve¬
niently produced in a due degree by the mixture of the
colours, umber and black were likewise used.
W^ith respect to the order in which the plates are to
he applied, it may be proper to observe, that the colour
which is least apparent in the picture should be laid on
first} that which is betwixt the most and least apparent
next 5 and that which predominates last ■, except where
there may be occasion for two plates for the same co¬
lour, as was before mentioned ; or where there is any
required for adding browns and shades.
M. le Blon applied this art to portraits, and show¬
ed, by the specimens he produced, the possibility of its
being brought, by farther improvements, to afford imi¬
tations of painting which might have some value. It is
nevertheless much better adapted to the simpler subjects,
where there are fewer intermixtures of colours } and
where the accuracy of the reflections, and demi-teints,
aje not so essentially necessary to the truth of the de¬
sign, from the greater latitude of form, and disposition
of the colour, as in plants, anatomical figures, and
some subjects of architecture. But perhaps plates en¬
graved or rather finished with the tool, particularly
with respect to the outline, would he better accommo¬
dated in some of these cases than those prepared only
by scraping.
M. Cochin remarks at the end of an account he
has given of M. le Blon’s manner, that though this
ingenious artist confined his method principally to the
use of three colours 5 yet, should this invention be again
taken up and cultivated, there would be more probabi¬
lity of success in using a greater variety } and that seve¬
ral different kinds might be printed by one plate, pro¬
vided they were laid on in their respectively proper
places by printing-balls, which should be used for that
colour only. His hint might however be very greatly im¬
proved, by the further assistance of pencils, accommo¬
dated to the plates, for laying on the colours in the
proper parts.—For the method of taking oft mezzotin¬
to prints on glass, see BaCK-painting.
MIASMA, among physicians, a particular kind of
effluvia, by which certain fevers, particularly irttermit-
tents, are produced.
MICA, Muscovy glass, or Glimmer, a species of
snineral substance. See Mineralogy Index.
M1CAH, or The Book of Micaii, a canonical book
*f the Old Testament, written by the prophet Micah,
who is the sixth of the twelve lesser prophets. He Mk-ah,
is cited by Jeremiah, and prophesied in the days of, M^hael.
Jotham, Abaz, and Hezekiah. He censures the v~~i
reigning vices of Jerusalem and Samaria, and denounces
the judgments of God against both kingdoms. He
likewise foretels the confusion of the enemies of the
Jews, the coming of the Messiah, and the glorious suc¬
cess of his church.
MICHAEL, or Michel, (i. e. who is like to God1?)
The scripture account of Michael is, that he was an
archangel, who presided over the Jewish nation, as other
angels did over the Gentile world, as is evident of the
kingdoms of Persia and Greece, (Dan. x. 13.) : that
he had an army of angels under his command (Rev.
xii. 7.) ; that he fought with the Dragon, or Satan
and his angels; and that, contending with the Devil,
he disputed about the body of Moses, (Jude 9.). As
to the combat between Michael and the Dragon, some
authors understand it literally, and think it means the
expulsion of certain rebellious angels, with their head
or leader, from the presence of God. Others take it
in a figurative sense •, and refer it, either to the contest
that happened at Rome between St Peter and Simon
Magus, in which the apostle prevailed over the magi¬
cian, or to those violent persecutions under which the
church laboured for three hundred years, and which
happily ceased when the powers of the world became
Christian. Among the commentators who main¬
tain the former opinion is Grotius j and among those
who take it in a figurative sense are Hammond and.
Mede.
The contest about the body of Moses is likewise ta¬
ken both literally and figuratively. Those who under¬
stand it literally are of opinion, that Michael by the
order of God hid the body of Moses after his death •,
and that the Devil endeavoured to discover it, as a fit
means to entice the people to idolatry, by a supersti¬
tious worship of his relics. But this dispute is figura¬
tively understood to he a controversy about rebuilding
the temple, and restoring the service of God among
the Jews at Jerusalem ; the Jewish church being fitly
enough styled the body of Moses. It is thought by
some, that this story of the contest between Michael
and the Devil was taken by St Jude out of an apocry¬
phal book called The Assumption of Moses.
The Romish church celebrates three appearances of
Michael, of which no mention is made in scripture,
and which have happened, they say, a long time after
the age of the apostles. The first appearance of this
archangel was at Colossge in Phrygia, but at what time
is uncertain. The second is that of Mount Garganus,
in the kingdom of Naples, about the end of the fifth
century. The third is his appeai'ance to Aubert bi¬
shop of Avranches, upon a rock called the Tomb,
where at this day is the abbey of St Michael. This
was about the year 706. The first of these festivals is
observed on the 6th of September, the second on the
6th of May, and the last on the 16th of October. It
has been supposed, that it was Michael the archangel
who conducted the Israelites in their journey through
the wilderness, (see Exod xxxii. 20, 23, and xxxiii.
2.) that it was he who appeared to Moses in the burn¬
ing bush } who appeared to Joshua in the fields of Jeri¬
cho, and to Gideon and Manoah the father of Samson :
MIC [ 789 ] MIC
Michael. and, in a word, to him have been imputed the greatest
"part of the most remarkable appearances either in the
Old or New Testament.
Michael Angelo. See Angelo.
Mount Michael, formerly one of the most celebra¬
ted state prisons of France, lies about 20 miles from
Granville. It is a rock situated in the middle of the
bay of Avranches 5 and is only accessible at low water.
Nature has completely fortified one side, by its craggy
and almost perpendicular descent, which renders it im¬
practicable to mount it by any address or courage,
however consummate. The other parts are surrounded
by walls fenced with semilunar towers after the Gothic
manner ; but sufficiently strong, together with the ad¬
vantage of its situation, to render it impregnable to
any attack. At the foot of the mountain begins a
street or town, which winds round its base to a .consi¬
derable height. Above are chambers where state pri¬
soners are kept, and where there are other buildings
intended for x-esidence. On the summit is erected the
abbey itself, occupying a pi-odigious space of ground,
and of a strength and solidity equal to its enormous
size-, since it has for many centuries withstood all the
injuries of the weather, to which it is so much expo¬
sed. In an apartment, called the Sale de C/iavaleric,
the knights of St Michael used to meet in solemn con¬
vocation on important occasions. They were the de¬
fenders and guardians of this mountain and abbey, as
those of the Temple, and of St John of Jerusalem, were
of the holy sepulchre. The hall in which they met is
very spacious, but rude and bai’barous. At one end
is a painting of the archangel, the patron of their or¬
der; and in this hall Louis XI. first instituted and in¬
vested with the insignia of knighthood the chevaliers
of the cross of St Michael. There is a miserable dark
apartment, or rather dungeon, in which many eminent
pei-sons were formerly confined. In the middle of it
is a cage, composed of prodigious bar's of wood 5 and
the wicket which gives entrance into it is 10 or 12
inches in thickness. rl he inside of it comprises about
12 or 14, feet square, and it is nearly 20 in height. To¬
wards the latter end of the iyth century, a newswriter
in Holland, who had presumed to print some very se¬
vere aud sarcastic reflections on Madame de Maintenon,
was confined in this place. Some months alter his pub¬
lication, he was induced, by a person sent expressly for
that purpose, to make a tour into I rench I landers.
The moment he had quitted the Hutch territories, he
Was put under arrest 5 and immediately, by his maje¬
sty’s expx-ess command, conducted to Mount Michael,
where he was shut up in this cage. Here he lived up¬
wards of 23 years j and here he at length expired.
During the long nights ol winter, no candle 01 fne was
allowed him. He was not permitted to have any book.
He saw no human face, except the gaoler, who came
once every day to present him, through a hole m the
wicket, with his little portion of bread and wine. o
instrument was given him with which he could destroy >
himself: but he found means at length to draw out a
nail from the wood, with which he engraved, or cut on
the bars of his cage, certain fleurs de hs and armorial
bearings, which formed his only employment and re¬
creation. They are very curiously performed consider¬
ing the rudeness ol his instrument.
The subterraneous ch^nibers in this mountain aio
said to be so numerous, that the gaolers themselves do Michael
not know them. There are certain dungeons called
aubliettes, into which they were accustomed anciently to
let down malefactors guilty of vex-y heinous crimes : they
provided them with a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine,
and then they were totally forgotten, and left to perish
by hunger in the dark vaults of the rock. This punish¬
ment, however, has not been inflicted by any king in
the last or px-esent century.
Here also is a remarkable chamber, in one corner
of which is a kind of window : between this and the
wrall of the building is a very deep space, of near 100
feet perpendicular, at the bottom of which is another
window opening to the sea. It is called the Hole oj
Montgomeri; and the history of it is as follows: In
the year 1559, Henry II. king of France was unfor¬
tunately killed at a tournament by the count de Morit-
gomeri *. He was a Huguenot} and having escaped* See .
the massacre of Paris, made head against the royAFrance,
forces in Normandy, supported by Queen Elizabeth ^c> I4°’
with arms and money. Being driven from his fortresses
in these parts, he retired to a rock called the Tombe-
lainc. This is another similar to Mount Michael j only
three quarters of a league from it, and of nearly equal
dimensions. At that time there was a castle upon it,
which has since been demolished, and of which scarce
any vestiges now remain. From this fortress, acces¬
sible only at low-water, he continually made excursions,
and annoyed the enemy, who never dared to attack
him. He coined money, laid all the adjacent country
under contribution, and rendered himself universally
dreaded. Desirous, however, to surprise Mount Mi¬
chael, he found means to engage one of the monks re¬
sident in the abbey ; who promised to give him the
signal for his enterprise by displaying a handkerchief.
The monk having made the signal, betrayed him, and
armed all his associates, who waited Montgomeri’s ar¬
rival. The chieftan came, attended by 50 chosen
soldiers, all desperate, and capable of any attempt.
They crossed the sand } and having placed their scal¬
ing-ladders, mounted one by one. As they came to
the top, they weie despatched, each in turn, without
noise. Montgomeri, who followed last, discovered the
pei’fidy, and escaped with only two of his men, with
whom he regained the Tombelaine. They preserve
with great care the laddex-s and grappling irons used on
this occasion. The count was at last besieged and ta¬
ken prisoner, by the mareschal de Matignon, in 1574,
at Domfront, in Normandy 5 and Cathai'ine de Medi-
cis, who hated him for having been, though innocent¬
ly, the cause of her husband’s death, caused him to be
immediately executed.
The church of Mount Michael is a great curiosity.
It stands on nine pillars of most enormous dimensions,
built on the solid rock. Each of them appears to be
about 25 feet in circumference : besides these, thex-e are
two others much inferior in size, on which the centre
of the church rests, and over which is the tower. The
following is the legendary account of the origin of this
church : In the reign of Childibert II. there was a
bishop of Avranches named St Aubcrt. To this holy
man the archangel Michael was pleased to appear one
night, and ordered him to go to this rock to build a
church. St Aubert treated this as a dream ; upon
which the angel appeared a second time ) and being still
disobeyed.
M I € [ 790 ] MIC
jvlidiael disobeyed, lie returned a third time, when, by way of
Michaelis *mPr*nt‘nS ^*IS command upon the saint’s memory, he
• ,*'/ made a hole in his skull by touching it with his thumb.
The skull is still preserved in the treasury of the church.
It is enclosed in a little shrine of gold, and a crystal,
which opens over the orifice, admits the gratification
of curiosity by the minutest examination of it. The
hole is of a size and shape proportionable to the thumb
said to have produced it} but it is impossible to deter¬
mine whether it has been really made by a knife or
any other way. It is not to be supposed that the saint
would forget such a sensible mark of the angel’s dis¬
pleasure } he therefore immediately repaired to the rock,
and constructed a small church, as he had been com¬
manded. Here, however, true history supplies the
place of fable j and informs us, that it was in 966
wrhen Richard the second duke of Normandy began to
„ build the abbey. It was completed about the year 1070,
under William the Conqueror, though many other ad¬
ditions were made by succeeding abbots.
In the treasury of the church are innumerable other
relics: among which some few have a real and intrin¬
sic value. There is a fine head of Charles VI. of France,
cut in a crystal, and the representation of a cockle¬
shell in gold, weighing many pounds, given by Rich¬
ard II. duke of Normandy, when he founded the ab¬
bey. There is an arm said to belong to St Ric/iard
king of England; but who this saint was it must be
very difficult to determine. Such is the history of the
prison, abbey, and church of Mount Michael previous
to the revolution 5 they have probably undergone some
-changes since that period.
St MICHAEL’S, a borough town of Cornwall,
between St Columb and Truro, 247 miles from Lon¬
don. Though one of the oldest boroughs in the coun¬
ty by prescription, and of great note in the Saxon
times, it is a mean hamlet in the parishes of Newland
and St Enidore j yet it is governed by a portreeve,
chosen yearly by a jury of the chief inhabitants, out
of the six chief tenants, called deputy lords of the
manor, because they hold lands in the borough. Here
is no market, but two fairs. A court-leet is held here
twice a-year. This place was formerly called Modis-
hole, and afterwards 'Michael. Its list of members
begins in the 6th of Edward VI.
St Michael's Mount, in the county of Cornwall,
in the corner of Mount’s Bay, is a very high rock,
only divided by the tide from the main land, so that it
is land and island twice a-day. The towm here was
burnt by the French in the reign of King Henry VIII.
At the bottom of this mount, in digging for tin, there
have been found spear heads, battle axes, and swords,
of brass, all wrapt up in linen. The county is con¬
tracted here into a sort of isthmus, so that it is scarcely
four miles between the Channel and the Severn sea.—
Large trees have been driven in by the sea between this
mount and Penzance.
MICHAELIS, John David, a celebrated biblical
critic, and author of many esteemed works, was the
eldest son of Dr Christian Benedict Michaelis, professor
in the university of Halle in Lotver Saxony, and was
born at that place, Feb. 27. 1717. His father devoted
him at an early age to an academical life j and with
that view he received the first part of his education in
a celebrated Prussian seminary, called the Orphan house,
4
at Glanche, in the neighbourhood of his native place. Michae
He commenced his academical career at Halle in 1733, II
and took his master’s degree in the faculty of philo-, Micklc
sophy in 1739* I74I made an excursion to this
country, where his superior knowledge of the oriental
languages, which was considerably increased by his in¬
defatigable researches in the Bodleian library at Ox¬
ford, introduced him to the acquaintance, and gained
him the esteem, of our first literary characters ; with
several of whom, and particularly Bishop Lowth, he
was in correspondence for many years. On his return
to Halle, after an absence of fifteen months, be began
to read lectures on the historical books of the Old Tes¬
tament, which he continued after his removal to Got¬
tingen in 1745. In 1746 he was appointed professor
extraordinary, and soon after professor of philosophy,
in that university. The next year he obtained a place
of secretary to the Royal Society there, of which he
was director in 1761, and was soon afterwards made
aulic counsellor by the court of Hanover. In 1764 '
his distinguished talents, but chiefly a publication rela¬
tive to a journey to Arabia, which was undertaken by
several literary men, at the expence of the king of
Denmark, in consequence of his application by means
of Count Bernsdorf, procured him the honour of be¬
ing chosen a correspondent, and afterwards foreign
member of the Academy of Inscriptions at Paris, of
whom the institution admitted only eight; and in the
same year he became a member of the society of Haer-
lern. In 1775, Count Hopkin, who eighteen years
before had prohibited the use of his workings at Upsal,
when he was chancellor of that university, prevailed
on the king of Sweden to confer on him the order of
the Polar Star, as a national compensation. In 1786
he was raised to the distinguished rank of privy coun¬
sellor of justice by the court of Hanover*, and in 1788
received his last literary honour, by being unanimous¬
ly elected a fellow of the Royal Society of London.—
His great critical knowledge of the Hebrew language,
which he displayed in a new translation of the Bible,
and in other works, raised him to a degree of eminence
almost unknown before in Germany j and his indefa¬
tigable labours were only equalled by his desire of com- ;
municating the knowledge he acquired to the numerous
students of all countries who frequented his admirable
lectures, which he continued to deliver on various parts
of the sacred writings in half-yearly courses, and on the
Hebrew, Arabic, and Syriac languages, to the last
year of his life. He was professor in the university
of Gottingen 45 years, and, during that long period, he
filled the chair with dignity, credit, and usefulness.
He died October 22. 1791, aged 74. He is said to
have left behind him several valuable MSS. Of the
works that were published during his life-time, and
which are very numerous, a catalogue, in the order of
their publication, is given in the Gentleman's Magazine
for March 1792.
MICHAELMAS, or Feast of St Michael and all
Angels, a festival of the Christian church, observed on
the 29th of September. See Michael.
MICKLE, William Julius, the celebrated trans¬
lator of the Lusiad, was the son of the reverend Alex¬
ander Mickle a Scotish clergyman, who had formerly
been a dissenting minister in London, an assistant to the
reverend Dr Watts, and one of the translators of Bayle’s
Dictionary*.
MIC [ 791 1 MIC
Dictionary. This gentleman having resided a few
years in London, was presented to the church of Lang¬
holm in Scotland, where he married ; and our au¬
thor was one of the younger sons. He was born about
the year 1735, and was educated by his father. In
his early years his passion for poetry frequently dis¬
covered itself; though till the age of 13 he did not
show any particular attachment to books. At that time
having accidentally met with Spenser’s Faery Queen,
he became enamoured of his manner of writing, and
instantly began to imitate him. After the death of his
father, he came to Edinburgh to reside with his uncle
who was a brewer there, and who admitted him into a
share of his business ; not being qualified to succeed in
this line, he went to London about the time of the
conclusion of the w7ar which began in 1755, with a
view to procure a commission in the marine service.
Here he was disappointed; but introduced himself
to the first Lord Lyttelton, to whom he sent one
of his poems. From his Lordship, however, he receiv¬
ed no other favour than being admitted to several in¬
terviews, and encouraged to persevere in his poetical
plans.
So closely did our author cultivate the study of the
muses, that before he was 18 years of age he had writ¬
ten two tragedies and half an epic poem ; but all these
were committed to the flames. The first of his poems
which appeared in print was published in one of the
Edinburgh magazines, and entitled, “ On passing
through the Parliament Close of Edinburgh at Mid¬
night.” This was afterwards inserted in A Collection
of Original Poems by a Scotch gentleman, vol. ii.
p^ 137.
From the time of Mr Mickle’s arrival in London
till the year 1765, it is not known how he employed
his time, though it is probable that he was employed
in some branch of the printing business ; and in 1765 he
engaged himself as corrector to the Clarendon press.
This year he published the Poem which first brought
him into notice, entitled, “ Pollio, an Elegiac Ode,
written in the Mood near K—  (Iloslin) Castle,”
4to. This was an elegy written on the death of his
brother, which, previous to its publication, had been
shown to Lord Lyttelton, and received some correc¬
tions from him. The latter, in an epistle to the au¬
thor, spoke of it as equal to any thing of the kind in
our language. In J7^7 published a poem called'
“ The Concubine, in two cantos, after the manner of
Spencer,” 4to ; and in 1769 he published, “A Letter
to Mr Harwood, wherein some of his evasive glosses,
false translations, and blundering criticisms, in support
of the Arian Heresy, contained in his literal translation
of the New Testament, are pointed out and confuted,’
8vo: and next year he published “ Mary Queen of
Scots, an Elegy “ Hengist and Mary, a ballad
and “ Knowledge, an Ode;” in Pearch’s Collection of
Poems. In I’j'jo he published il Voltaire in the
Shades, or Dialogues on the Deistical Controversy,”
8vo. The Elegy on Mary had been submitted to the
judgment of Lord Lyttelton, who declined to criticise
it, not for its deficiency in poetical merit, but from
thinking differently from the author concerning that
unfortunate princess.
About this time Mr Mickle was a frequent writer m
the Whitehall Evening Post; but a more important.
work now engaged his attention. When no more than Mickk,
17 years of age he had read Castara’s translation of
the Lusiad of Camoens into French, and then projected
the design of giving an English translation of it. From
this, however, he was prevented by various avocations
till the year 1771, when he published the first book as
a specimen: and having prepared himself by acquiring
some knowledge of the Portuguese language, he deter¬
mined to apply himself entirely to this work. With
this view he quitted his residence at Oxford, and went
to a farm house at Forest-hill, whei-e he pursued his /
design with unremitting assiduity till the year 1775,
when the work was entirely finished.
During the time that Mr Mickle- was engaged
in this work, he subsisted entirely by his employ¬
ment as corrector of the press ; and on Ins quit¬
ting that employment he had only the subscriptions
he received for his translation to support him. Not¬
withstanding these difficulties, he adhered steadily to
the plan he laid down, and completed it in about
five years.
When his work was finished, Mr Mickle applied to
a person of great rank, writh whom his family had been
connected, for permission to dedicate it to him. Per¬
mission was granted, and his patron honoured him with
a very politer letter ; hut after receiving a copy, for
which an extraordinary price was paid for the binding, ,
he did not think proper to take any notice of the au¬
thor. At last a gentleman of high rank in the poli¬
tical world, a firm friend to the author, and who af¬
terwards took him under his protection, waited on the
patron, and heard him declare that he had not read
the workj but that it had been represented not to have
the merit it wras at first said to possess. The applause
with which the work was received, however, soon ba¬
nished from the author’s mind those disagreeable sen¬
sations which had been occasioned by the contemptu¬
ous neglect of his patron, as well as some severe cri¬
ticisms which , had been circulated concerning it. A
second edition wras prepared in 1778, with a plate
prefixed to it, executed by the celebrated artist Mor¬
timer; on whom Mr Mickle wrote an epitaph in 1779= .
This year also he published a pamphlet, entitled, “ A
Candid Examination of the Reasons for depriving the .
East India Company of its Charter, contained in The
History and Management of the East India Company
from its Commencement to the.Present Time; together ,
with some Strictures on the Self-Contradictions and
Historical Errors of Dr Adam Smith, in his Reasons
for the Abolition of the said Company,” 4to. About
this time some of his friends thought of recommend¬
ing him to the king as deserving of a pension ; but
this scheme was never put in execution. Dr Lowtb,
bishop of London, would have put him into orders,
ami provided for him in the church ; but this was not
agreeable to our author’s disposition. While he was
meditating a publication of all his poems, in which he
would most probably have found his account, he was
appointed secretary to Commodore Johnstone, who .
had lately obtained the command of the Romney man
of war. In November 1779 he arrived at Lisbon, and
was named by his patron joint agent for the prizes .
which were taken. In this capital and its neighbour
hood he resided more than six months, being every
where received with every mark of politeness and at¬
tention.^
Mickle
MIC [
tentlon j ami during this period he composed his poem
called “ Almada Hill,” which in 1781 was published
in quarto. He collected also many particulars con¬
cerning the manners of the Portuguese, which he in¬
tended also to have published. During his stay at Lis¬
bon the Royal Academy was opened; and Mr Mickle,
who was present at the ceremony of its commencement,
had the honour to be admitted a member under the
presidency of Don John of Braganza, duke of La-
foens. His presence being thought necessary in Eng¬
land to attend to the proceedings of the courts of law
respecting the condemnation of some of the prizes, he
did not accompany the Commodore in his last expedi¬
tion, nor did he go any more to sea. In 1782 he pub¬
lished “ The Prophecy of Queen Emma, an ancient
Ballad lately discovered, written by Johannes Turgot-
tus, prior of Durham, in the reign of William Rufus *,
to which is added by the Editor, an Account of the
Discovery, and Hints towards a Vindication of the
Authenticity, of the Poems of Ossian and Rowley,”
Svo.
In June this year Mr Mickle married Miss Tomkins,
daughter of the person with whom he resided at Fo¬
rest-hill, while engaged in translating the Lusiad.
Having received some fortune with this lady, as
well as made some money himself when in the ser¬
vice of Commodore Johnstone, he now enjoyed a
comfortable independence. He afterwards fixed his
residence at Wheatley in Oxfordshire, and devoted
his time to the revision of his poetical works, which
he proposed to publish by subscription. During the
last seven years of his life he was employed in
writing for the European Magazine. The Frag¬
ments of Leo, and some of the most approved re¬
views of books, in that periodical work, -were of his
production. He died after a short illness, on the 25th
of October 1788, at Wheatley, leaving one son be¬
hind him. His poetry possesses much beauty, variety,
harmony of numbers, and vigour of imagination :
his life was without reproach ; his foibles were few and
inoffensive 5 his virtues many ; and his genius very
Micro me-"
ter first in¬
vented by
Gascoigne.
considerable.
MICROCOSM, a “Greek term signifying the little
ivorld ; used by some for man, as being supposed an
epitome of the universe or great world.
’ MICROGRAPHY, the description of objects view¬
ed with the assistance of a microscope. See Microsco¬
pic objects.
MICROMETER, an astronomical instrument, by
which small angles, or the apparent magnitudes of ob¬
jects viewed through telescopes or microscopes are mea¬
sured with great exactness.
1. The first telescopic micrometers were only me¬
chanical contrivances for measuring the image of an
object in the focus of the object-glass. Before these
contrivances were thought of, astronomers were accu¬
stomed to measure the field of view in each of their
telescopes, by observing how much of the moon they
could see through it, the semidiameter being reckoned
at 15 or 16 minutes; and other distances were esti¬
mated by tlie eye, comparing them with the field of
view. Mr Gascoigne, an English gentleman, however,
fell upon a much more accurate method before the year
1641, and had a Treatise on Optics prepared for the
press ; but he was killed during the civil wars in the
' Phil.
Trans.
792 ] MIC
service of Charles I. and his manuscript was never found. Mieronte,
His instrument, however, fell into the hands of Mr R. ter.
Townly *, who says, that by the help of it he could
mark above 40,000 divisions in a foot. ^
2. Mr Gascoigne’s instrument being shown to Dr^cT^
Hooke, he gave a drawing and description of it, and f See Phil
proposed several improvementsf. Mr Gascoigne divided Trans. Abr.
the image of an object in the focus of the object-glass, by
the approach of two pieces of metal ground to a very fine
edge, in the place of which Dr Hooke would substitute WVfo *
two fine hairs stretched parallel to one another. P-497,498;
3. Mr Huygens measured the apparent diameters ofan(*
the planets, by first determining the quantity of the field
of view in his telescope ; which, he says, is best done hyp l50
observing the time that a star takes up in passing overFuy >ens*s
it, and then preparing two or three long and slendermiciome-
brass plates, of various breadths, the sides of which are ter.
very straight, and converging to a small angle. In
using these pieces of brass, he made them slide in two
slits, made in the sides of the tube, opposite to the place
of the image, and observed in what place it just covered
the diameter of any planet, or any small distance that
he wanted to measure J. It was observed, however, by t Systema
Sir Isaac Newton, that the diameters of planets, measur-
ed in this manner, will he larger than they should be,^' 82'
as all lucid objects appear to be when theyr are viewed
upon dark ones.
4. In the Ephemerides of the Marquis of Malvasia, Marquis of
published in 1662, it appears that he had a method ofMalvasia’s
measuring small distances between fixed stars and themicrome'
diameters of the planets, and also of taking accurate Ur‘
draughts of the spots of the moon by a net of silver
wire, fixed in the focus of the eye-glass. He likewise
contrived to make one of two stars pass along the
threads of this net, by turning it, or the telescope, as
much as was necessary for that purpose ; and he count¬
ed, by a pendulum-clock, beating seconds, the time
that elapsed in its passage from one wire to another,
which gave him the number of minutes and seconds
of a degree contained between the intervals of the
wires of his net, with respect to the focal length of his
telescope.
5. In 1666, Messrs Auzout and Picard published aAuzout’s
description of a micrometer, which was nearly the same microme'
with that of the Marquis of Malvasia, excepting theter‘
method of dividing it, wrhich they performed with more
exactness by a screw. In some cases they used threads
of silk, as being finer than silver wires. Deehales also
recommends a micrometer consisting of fine wires, or
silken threads, the distances of which were exactly
known, disposed in the form of a net, as peculiarly con¬
venient for taking a map of the moon. t
6. M. de la Hire says, that there is no method more®.6*3**116'1
simple or commodious for observing the digits of an™1^01*16
eclipse than a net in the focus of the telescope. These,
he says, were generally made of silken threads; and
that for this particular purpose six concentric circles
had also been made use of, drawn upon oiled paper;
but he advises to draw the circles on very thin pieces
of glass with the point of a diamond. He also gives
several particular directions to assist persons in the use
of them.
7. Construction of Different Micrometers. The first we Common
shall describe is the common micrometer. Let ABCDmicrome”
be a section of the telescope at the principal focus of theter'
object-glass
M I C
F'g* :•
o’jjeet-glass, or where the wires are situated, which are
placed in a short tube containing the eye-glass, and may
he turned into any position by turning that tube j m n
is a fine wire extended over its centre ; v w, xy, are two
parallel wires well defined, and perpendicular to ?nn; vw
is fixed, and xy moves parallel to it by means of a screw',
which carries two indexes over a graduated plate, to show
the number of revolutions and parts of a revolution
which it makes. Now to measure any angle, we must
first ascertain the number of revolutions and parts of
a revolution corresponding to some known angle, which
may be thus done ist, Bring the inner edges of the
wires exactly to coincide, and set each index to Oj turn
the screw, and separate the wires to any distance ; and
observe the time a star m is in passing along the wire
m n from one vertical wire to the other: for that time,
turned into minutes and seconds of a degree, will be the
angle answering to the number of revolutions, or the
angle corresponding to the distance. Thus, if cos.
of the star’s declination, we have 15' dm, the angle
corresponding to this distance ; and hence, by propor¬
tion, we find the angle answering to any other. 2d/y,
Set up an object of a known diameter, or two objects at
a given distance, and turn the screw till the vertical wires
become tangents to the object, or till their opening just
takes in the distance of the two objects upon the wire
then from the diameter, or distance of the two
objects from each other, and their distance from the
glass, calculate the angle, and observe the number of
revolutions and parts corresponding. 3dfr/, Take the
diameter of the sun on any day, by making the wires
tangents to the opposite limbs, and find, from the nau¬
tical almanac, his diameter on that day. Here it will
he best to take the upper and lower limbs of the eun
when on the meridian, as he has then no motion per¬
pendicular to the horizon. If the edges do not coin¬
cide when the indexes stand at 0, tve must allow for
the error. Instead of making a proportion, it is better
to have a table calculated to show the angle correspond¬
ing to every revolution and parts of a revolution. But
the observer must remember, that when the microme¬
ter is fixed to telescopes of different focal lengths, a
new table must be made. The whole system of wires
is turned about in its own plane, by turning the eye-
tube round with the hand, and by that means the ware
in n can be thrown into any position, and consequently
angles in any position may be measured, X)r Bradley
added a small motion by a rack and pinion to set the
wires more accurately in any position,
8, But the micrometer, as now contrived, is of use,
not only to find the angular distance of bodies in
the field of view at the same time, but also of those
which, when the telescope is fixed, pass through the
field of view successively \ by which means we can find
the difference of their right ascensions and declinations.
Let A a, B C cf he three parallel and equidistant
wires, the middle one bisecting the field of view 1
HOB a fixed wire perpendicular. to them passing
through the centre of the field j and F/, G g, two
wires parallel to it, each moveable by a micro¬
meter screw, as before, so that they can be brought
up to HOB, or a little beyond. Then to find the
angular distance of two objects, bring them very near
to B b, and in a line parallel to it, by turning about
the wires, and bring one upon HOB, and by the
Vol, XIII. Part II. i
t 793 ]
M I C
micrometer screw make F/or Gg pass through the Microbe-
other then turn the screw till .that wire coincides ter.
w'ith HOB, and the arc which the index has passed
over shows their angular distance. If the objects be
further remote than you can carry the distance of one
of the wires Y f, Gg from HOB, then bring one
object to Ff and the other to Gg ; and turn each
micrometer screw till they meet, and the sum of the
arcs passed over by each index gives their angular di¬
stance. If the objects be two stars, and’one of them
be made to run along HOB, or either of the move-
able wires as occasion may require, the motion of the
other will be parallel to these wires, and their differ¬
ence of declinations may be observed with great exact¬
ness ; but in taking any other distances, the motion
of the stars being oblique to them, it is not quite so
easy to get them parallel to B & ; because if one star
be brought near, and the eye be applied to the other
to adjust the wires to it, the former star wall have got¬
ten a little away from the wire. Dr Bradley, in his
account of the use of this micrometer, published by
Dr Maskelyne in the Philosophical Transactions for
1772, thinks the best way is to move the eye back¬
wards and forwards as quick as possible; but it seems
to be best to fix the eye at some point between,
by which means it takes in both at once sufficiently
well defined to compare them with B b. In finding
the difference of declination, if both bodies do not
come into the field of view at the same time, make
one run along the wire HOB, as before, and fix the
telescope and wait till the other comes in, and then
adjust one of the moveable wires to it, and bring it up
to HOB, and the index gives the difference of their
declinations. The difference of time between the pas¬
sage of the star at either of the cross moveable wires,
and the transit of the other star over the cross fixed
wire (which represents a meridian), turned into de¬
grees and minutes, will give the difference of right
ascension. The star has been here supposed to be bi¬
sected by the wire j but if the wire be a tangent to it,
allowance must he made for the breadth of the wire,
provided the adjustment be made for the coincidence
of the wires. In observing the diameters of the sun,
moon, or planets, it may perhaps be most conveni¬
ent to make use of the outer edges of the wires, be¬
cause they appear most distinct when quite within
the limb ; hut if there should be any sensible inflection
of the rays of light in passing by the wires, it will be
best avoided by using the inner edge of one wire and
the outward edge of the other; for by that means
the inflection at both limbs will be the same way,
and therefore there will be no alteration of the rela¬
tive position of the rays passing by each wire. And
it will be convenient in the micrometer to note at what
division the index stands when the moveable wire co¬
incides with HOB; for then you need not bring the
wire when a star is upon it up to HOB, only reckon
from the division at which the index then stands to the
above division.
9. With a micrometer thus adapted to a telescope, Mr Tjie
8. Savery of Exeter proposed a new way of measuringed object-
the difference between the greatest and least apparent glass mi-
diameters of the sun, although the whole of the sun c!fometer
was not visible in the field of view at once. The me-||Jn^
thod we shall briefly describe. Place two object-glasses
5 H instead
Improved
M I C r 79+ !
Instead of one, so as to form two images whose limbs coincide at
shall be at a small distance from each other j or in¬
stead of two perfect lenses, he proposed to cut a single
lens into four parts of equal breadths by parallel lines,
and to place the two segments with their straight sides
against each other, or the two middle frustums with
their opposite edges together •, in either case, the two
parts which before had a common centre and axis, have
now their centres and axes separated, and consequent¬
ly two images will be formed as before by two perfect
lenses. Another method in reflectors was to cut the
large concave reflector through the centre, and by a
eontrivance to turn up the outer edges whilst the
straight ones remained fixed ; by which means the axis
of the two parts became inclined, and formed two
images. Two images being formed in this manner,
he proposed to measure the distance between the limbs
when the diameters of the sun were the greatest and
least, the difference of which would be the difference
of the diameters required. Thus far Ave are indebted
to Mr Savery for the idea of forming two images ; and
the admirable uses to which it was afterwards applied
we shall next proceed to describe.
10. The divided object-glass micrometer, as noAvmade,
hyMr John was contrived by the late Mr John Dollond, and by 11
Dollond
Fig- 3-
him adapted to the object-end of a reflecting telescope,
and has been since by the present Mr P. Dollond his son
applied Avith equal advantage to the end of an achromatic
telescope. The principle is this : The object-glass is
divided into Iavo segments in a line draAvn through the
centre : each segment is fixed in a separate frame of
brass, which is moveable, so that the centres of the
tAAro segments may be brought together by a handle
for that purpose, and thereby form one image of an
object ; but when separated they Avill form Iavo ima¬
ges, lying in a line passing through the centre of each
segment; and consequently the motion of each image
Avill be parallel to that line, which can be throAvn into
any position by the contrivance of another handle to
turn the gla^s about in its OAvn plane. The brass-work
carries a vernier to measure the distance of the centres
of the tAvo segments. Noav let F. and H be the cen¬
tres of the tAvo segments, F their principal focus, and
PQ tAvo distant objects in FE, FH, produced, or the
opposite limbs of the same object PBQD ; then the
images of P and Q, formed by each segment, or the
images of the opposite limbs of the object PBQD,
M I C
F : hence tAvo images m ss F, w A? F cf that Microme.
object are formed, Avhose limbs are in contact; there- ter.
fore the angular distance of the points P and Q is the —J
same as the angle which the distance EH subtends at
F, which, as the angles supposed to be measured are
very small, Avill vary as EH extremely nearly j and
consequently if the angle corresponding to one inter¬
val of the centres of the segments be known, the
angle corresponding to any other will be found by pro¬
portion. Noav to find the interval for some one angle,
take the horizontal diameter of the sun on any day,
by separating the images till the contrary limbs coin¬
cide, and read off by the vernier the interval of their
centres, and look into the nautical almanac for the di¬
ameter of the sun on that day, and you have the cor¬
responding angle. Or if greater exactness be required
than from taking the angle in proportion to the distan¬
ces of their centres, Ave may proceed thus :—Draw
FG perpendicular to EH, which therefore bisects it j
then one half EH, or EG, is the tangent of half the
angle EFH ; hence, half the distance of their centres
is to the tangent of half the angle corresponding to that
distance as half any other distance of the centres is to
the tangent of half the corresponding angle (a).
From this the method of measuring small angles
is manifest *, for Ave consider P, Q either as tAvo ob¬
jects whose images are brought together by separating
the two segments, or as the opposite limbs of one ob¬
ject PBQA, whose images formed by the tAvo seg¬
ments E, H, touch at F} in the former case, EH
gives the angular distance of the tAvo objects} and in
the latter, it gives the angle under Avhich the diameter
of the object appears. In order to find the angular
distance of tAvo objects, therefore, separate the segments
till the two images Avhich approach each other coin¬
cide ; and to find the diameter of an object, separate
the segments till the contrary limbs of the images touch
each other, and read off the distance of the centres
of the segment from the vernier (B), and find the
angle as directed in the last article. Hence appears
one great superiority in this above the wire micrometer ^
as, Avith the one any diameter of an object may be
measured with the same ease and accuracy } Avhereas
Avith the other we cannot AA'ith accuracy measur e any
diameter, except that which is at right angles to the di¬
rection of motion.
12. But, besides these two uses to Avhich the instru¬
ment
(a) If the object is not distant let f be the principal focus ; then F f: FG :: FG : FK (FG being produced
to meet a line joining the apparent places of the two objects P, Q,), dividendo, /G : FG :: GK : FK, and
EH PQ
alternando, f Q* : GK :: FG : FK :: (by similar triangles) EFI : PQ, hence , therefore the angle
/ G“ GK.’
subtended by EH at f— the angle subtended by PQ at G j and consequently, as J’G is constant, the angle
measured at G is, in this case, also proportional to EH. The instrument is not adapted to measure the angular
distance of bodies, one of which is near and the other at a distance, because their images would not be formed to¬
gether.
(b) lo determine if there be any error in the adjustment of the micrometer scale, measure the diameter of any
small Avell-defined object, as Jupiter’s equatoreal diameter, or the longest axis of Saturn’s ring, both rvays,
teat is, with o on the vernier to the right and left of o on the scale, and half the difference is the error re¬
quired. This error must be added to or subtracted from all observations, according as the diameter measured
with o on the vernier, when advanced on the scale, is less or greater than the diameter measured the other
way. And it is also evident, that half the sum of the diameters thus measured gives the true diameter of the
object.
'
MIC [ 795 ] MIC
Microme- ment seems so well adapted, Dr Maskelyne * has shown,
ter- how it may be applied to find the difference of right
' ascensions and declinations. For this purpose, two
Trcm*. w^re.s at r‘Sllt angles to each other, bisecting the field
1771. of view, must be placed in the principal focus of the
eye-glass, and moveable about in their own plane.—
Let HCIi c be the field of view, HR and C c the two
wires ; turn the wires till the westernmost star, (which
F'S' 4- is the best, having further to move) run along ROH ;
then separate the two segments, and turn about the
micrometer till the two images of the same star lie in
the wire Co; and then, partly by separating the seg¬
ments, and partly by raising or depressing the tele¬
scope, bring the two innermost images of the two stars
to appear and run along ROH, as a, b, and the ver¬
nier will give the diffex-ence of their declinations ; be¬
cause, as the two images of one of the stars coincided
with C c, the image of each star was brought per¬
pendicularly upon HR, or to HR in their proper
meridian. And, for the same reason, the difference
of their times of passing the wire CO c will give their
difference of right ascensions. These operations will
be facilitated, if the telescope be mounted on a polar
axis. If two other wrires KL, MN, parallel to C c,
be placed near H and R, the observation may be
made on two stars whose difference of meridians is
neaidy equal to HR the diameter of the field of view,
by bringing the two images of one of the stars to
coincide with one of these wires. If two stax-s be ob¬
served whose difference of declinations is well settled,
the scale of the micrometer will be known.
13. It has hitherto been supposed, that the images of
the twro stars can be both brought into the field of
view at once upon the wii’e HOR: but if they can¬
not, set the micrometer to the diflerence of their de¬
clinations as neaidy as you can, and make the image
which comes first run along the wire HOR, by ele¬
vating or depressing the telescope ; and when the other
star comes in, if it do not also run along HOR, alter
the micrometer till it does, and half the sum of the num¬
bers shown by the micrometer at the twTo separate obsex--
vations of the two stars on the wire HOR will be the
difference of their declinations. That this should be
true, it is manifestly necessary that the two segments
should recede equally in opposite directions ; and this is
effected by Mr Dollond in his new improvement of the
obj ect-gl ass micrometer.
14. The difference of right ascensions and declinations
of Venus or Merc my in the sun’s disk and the sun’s
Fig. 5. limb may be thus found. Turn the wires so that the
north limb 11 of the sun’s image AB, or the north
limb of the image V of the planet, may run along the
wire RH, which therefore wTill then be parallel to the
equator, and consequently C c a secondary to it j then
separate the segments, and turn about the micrometer
till the two images V of the planet pass C c at the
same time, and then by separating the segments,
bring the north limb of the northernmost image V of
the planet to touch HR, at the time the northernmost
limb n of the southernmost image AB of the sun
touches it, and the micrometer shows the difference of
declinations of the northernmost limbs of the planet and
sun, for the reason foi'merly given (Ait. 11.) we ha-
>’ing brought the northernmost limbs of the two in¬
nermost images V and AB to HR, these twro being Mkrome-
manifestly interior to v and the northernmost limb N of ter.
the image PQ. In the same manner we take the dif- v
fei'ence of declinations of their southernmost limbs j and
half the difference of the two measures (taking im¬
mediately one after another) is equal to the difference
of the declinations of their centres, without any x'e-
gard to the sun’s or planet’s diameters, or error of
adjustment of the micrometer ; for as it affects both
equally, the difference is the same as if there were no
error : and the difference of the times of the tran¬
sits ot the eastern or western limbs of the sun and pla¬
net over C c gives the difference of their right ascen¬
sions.
15. Instead of the difference of right ascensions, the
distance of the planet from the sun’s limb, in lines pa¬
rallel to the equator, may be more accurately observed
thus : Separate the segments, and turn about the
wires and micrometer, so as to make both images
V, t:, run along' HR, or so that the two intersections Fig. 6.
I, T of the sun’s image may pass C c at the same
time. Then bring the planet’s and sun’s limbs into
contact, as at V, and do the same for the other limb
of the sun, and half the difference gives the distance
of the centre of the planet from the middle of the
chord on the sun’s disk parallel to the equator, or the
difference of the right ascensions of their centres, al¬
lowing for the motion of the planet in the interval of
the observations, without any regard to the error of
adjustment, for the same x-eason as before. For if
you take any point in the chord of a cii’cle, half the
difference of the twro segments is manifestly the di¬
stance of the point from the middle of the chord 5 and
as the planet runs along HR, the chord is parallel to the
equator.
In like manner, the distances of their limbs may be Fig. 7.
measured in lines perpendicular to the equatoi-, by bring¬
ing the micrometer into the position alx-eady described,
(Art. 13.), and instead of bringing V to HR, sepa¬
rate the segments till the northernmost limbs coincide
as at V ; and in the same manner make their southern¬
most images to coincide, and half the difl‘ei*ence of
the two measures, allowing for the planet’s motion,
gives the difference of the declinations of their cen¬
tres.
Hence the true place of a planet in the sun’s disc may
at any time of its transit be found; and consequently the
nearest approach to the centi’e and the time of ecliptic
conjunction may be deduced, although the middle should
not be observed.
16. But how'ever valuable the object-glass microme-Disadvan-
ter undoubtedly is. difficulties sometimes have been found tage of the
in its use, owing to the alteration of the focus of the ol).iecNdass
eye, which will cause it to give different measures ofUT
the same angle at different times. For instance, in
measuring the sun’s diameter, the axis of the pencil
coming through the two segments fi'om the contrary
limbs of the sun, as PF, QF, fig. 3. crossing one ano¬
ther in the focus F under an angle equal to the sun’s
semidiameter, the union of the limbs cannot appear
perfect, unless the eye be disposed- to see objects di¬
stinctly at the place w here the images were formed ; for
if the eye be disposed to see objects nearer to or fur¬
ther off than that place, in the latter case the limbs
5 II 2 will
M I C
Micronic- will appear separated, and in the former they will ap-
tcr- pear to lap over (c). This imperfection led Dr Mas-
,niir~"v "r'i kelyne to inquire, whether some method might not be
found of producing two distinct images of the sun, or
any other object, by bringing the axis of each pencil
to coincide, or very nearly so, before the formation of
the images, by which means the limbs when brought
together would not be liable to appear separated from
any alteration of the eye; and this he found would be
effected by the refraction of two prisms, placed either
without or within the telescope j and on this principle,
placing the prisms within, he constructed a new micro¬
meter, and had one executed by Mr Dollond, which
upon trial answered as he expected. The construction
is as follows.
Dr Mas- 17. Let AB be the object-glass 5 a b the image, sup-
kelyne s pose of the sun, which would have been formed in
micronic- ^ie principal focus Q 5 but let the prisms PR, SR be
ter. placed to intercept the rays, and let EF, WG, be two
Fig. S, g. rays proceeding from the eastern and western limbs of
the sun, converging, after refraction at the lens, to a
and b ; and suppose the refraction of the prisms to be
such, that in fig. 8. the ray EFR, after refraction at
R by the prism PR, may proceed in the direction RQ;
and as all the rays which were proceeding to a suffer
the same refraction at the prism, they will all be re¬
fracted to Q } and therefore, instead of an image a
which would have been formed by the lens alone, an
image Q e is formed by those rays which fall on the
prism PR ; and for the same reason, the rays falling
on the prism SR will form an image Q d: and in fig.
9. the image of the point b is brought to Q, by the
prism PR, and consequently an image Q d is formed
by those rays which fall on PR: and for the same rea¬
son, an image Q c is formed by the rays falling on SR.
Now in both cases, as the rays EFR, WGR, coming
from the two opposite limbs of the sun, and forming
the point of contact of the two limbs, proceed in the
same direction RQ, they must thus accompany each
other through the eye-glass and also through the eye,
whatever refractive power it has, and therefore to
every eye the images must appear to touch. Now the
angle « R £ is twice the refraction of the pi’ism, and
the angle a C £ is the diameter of the sun 5 and as these
angles are very small, and have the same subtense a b,
we have the angle a R & : angle a C b CQ : RQ.—
Now as CQ is constant, and also the angle a R b being
twice the refraction of the prism, the angle a C a varies
as RQ. Hence the extent of the scale for measuring
angles becomes the focal length of the object-glass,
and the angle measured is in proportion to the distance
of the prisms from the principal focus of the object-
glass j and the micrometer can measure all angles (very
small ones excepted, for the reason given in Art. 19.)
which do not exceed the sum of the refractions of the
prisms j for the angle « C the diameter of the object
MIC
to be measured, is always less than the angle a R b, the Microme.
sum of the refractions of the prisms, except when the ter.
prisms touch the object-glass, and then they become '“"■v—
equal. The scale can never be out of adjustment, as
the point o, where the measurement begins, answers
to the focus of the object-glass, which is a fixed point
for all distant objects, and we have only to find the
value of the scale answering to some known angle j
for instance, bring the two limbs of the sun’s images into
contact, and measure the distance of the prisms from
the focus, and look in the nautical almanac for the sun’s
diameter, and you get the value of the scale.
18. In fig. 8. the limb Q of the image Q c, is illu-Fig- S.
minated by the rays falling on the object-glass between
A and F, and of the image Q d by those falling be¬
tween B and G ; but in fig. 9. the same limbs are il¬
luminated by the rays falling between B and F, A
and G respectively, and therefore will be more illumi¬
nated than in the other case ; but the difference is not
considerable in achromatic telescopes, on account of
the great aperture of the object-glass compared with
the distance FG.
It might be convenient to have two sets of prisms,
one for measuring angles not exceeding 36', and there¬
fore fit for measuring the diameters of the sun and
moon, and the lucid parts and distances of the cusps
in their eclipses ; and another for measuring angles not
much greater than 1', for the conveniency of measu¬
ring the diameters of the planets. For as Q c : QR
sum of the refractions of the prisms : angle a C b, the
apparent diameter of the object, it is evident that if
you diminish the third term, you must increase the se¬
cond in the same ratio, in m-der to measure the same
angle 5 and thus by diminishing the refractive angle of
the prisms, you throw them further from Q, and con¬
sequently avoid the inconvenience of bringing them
near to Q, for the reason in the next paragraph ; and
at the same time you will increase the illumination in
a small degree. The prisms most be achromatic, each
composed of two prisms of flint and crown glass,
placed with their refracting angles in contrary direc¬
tions, otherwise the images will be coloured.
19. In the construction here described, the angle mea¬
sured becomes evanescent when the prisms come to the
principal focus of the object-glass, and therefore o
on the scale then begins : but if the prisms be placed
in the principal focus they can have no effect, because
the pencil of rays at the junction of the prisms would
then vanish, and therefore it is not practicable to bring
the two images together to get o on the scale. Dr
Maskelyne, therefore, thought of placing another pair
of prisms within, to refract the rays before they came
to the other prisms, by which means the two images
would be formed into one before they came to the
principal focus, and therefore o on the scale could
be determined. But to avoid the error arisimr from
the
t 796 ]
(c) For if the eye can see distinctly an image at F, the pencils of rays, of which PF, QF are the two axes,
diverging from F, are each brought to a focus on the retina at the same point; and therefore the two limbs ap¬
pear to coincide : but if we increase the refractive power of the eye, then each pencil is brought to a focus, and
they cross each other before the rays come to the retina, consequently the two limbs on the retina will lap over j
and if we diminish the refractive power of the eye, then each pencil being brought to a focus beyond the retina,
and not crossing till after they have passed it, the two limbs on the retina must be separated.
MIC
Ramsden’s
reflecting
microme¬
ter.
Fig. 10.
tlie multiplication of mediums, he, instead of adding
another pair of prisms, divided the object-glass through
its centre, and sliding the segments a little it separated
the images, and then by the prisms he could form one
image, very distinctly, and consequently could determine
O on tne scale 5 for by separating the ttvo segments vou
form two images, and you will separate the two pencils
so that you may move up the two prisms, and the two
pencils will fall on each respectively, and the two
images may he formed into one. In the instrument
which Dr TVfaskelyne had made, o on the scale was
chosen to be about of the local length of the object-
glass, and each prism refracted 27'. By this means all
angles are measured down to o.
20. In the Philosophical Transactions for 1779, Mr
Ramsden has described two new micrometers, which
he contrived with a view of remedying the defects of
the object-glass micrometer.
21. 1. One of these is a catoptric micrometer, which,
beside the advantage it derives from the principle of
reflection, of not being disturbed by the heterogeneity
of light, avoids every defect of other micrometers,
and can have no aberration, nor any defect arising
from the imperfection of materials or of execution}
as tne extreme simplicity of its construction requires
no additional mirrors or glasses to those required for
t.he telescope ; and the separation of the images being
effected by the inclination of the two specula, and not
depending on the focus of any lens or mirror, any al¬
teration in the eye of an observer cannot affect the
angle measured. It has peculiar to itself the advan¬
tages of an adjustment, to make the images coincide
in a direction perpendicular to that of their motion ;
and also of measuring the diameter of a planet on both
sides of the zero, which will appear no inconsiderable
advantage to observers who know how much easier it
is to ascertain the contact of the external edges of two
images than their perfect coincidence.
22. A represents the small speculum divided into two
equal parts 5 one of which is fixed on the end of the
arm B \ the other end of the arm is fixed on a steel
axis X, which crosses the end of the telescope C. The
other half of the mirror A is fixed on the arm D,
which arm at the other end terminates in a socket ?/,
that turns on the axis X; both arms are prevented
from bending by the braces a a. G represents a double
screw, having one part e cut into double the number
of threads in an inch to that of the part g: the part
c having 100 threads in one inch, and the part g 50
only. The screw e works in a nut F in the side of
the telescope, while the part g turns in a nut H,
which is attached to the arm B 5 the ends of the arms
B and D, to which the mirrors are fixed, are separated
from each other by the point of the double screw press¬
ing against the stud //, fixed to the arm D, and turning
in the nut H on the arm B The two arms B and D
are pressed against the direction of the double screw eg
by a spii'al spring within the part by which means all
shake or play in the nut H, on which the measure de¬
pends, is entirely prevented.
From the difference of the threads on the screw at
e and g, it is evident, that the progressive motion of
the screw through the nut will be half the distance
of the separation of the two halves of the mirror; and
consequently the half mirrors will be moved equal
[ 797 ]
MIC
ly in contrary directions from the axis of the tele- Micro
scope C.
23. The wheel V fixed on the end of the double screw
had its circumference divided into 100 equal parts,
and numbered at every fifth division with 3, 10, &c.
to xoc, and the index I shows the motion of the screw
with the wheel round its axis, while the number of
revolutions of the screw is shown by the divisions on
the same index. The steel screw at R may be turned
by the key S, and serves to incline the small mirror at
right angles to the direction of its motion. Bv
turning the finger head T, the eye-tube P is brought FV
nearer or farther from the small mirror, to adjust the ^ n’
telescope to distinct vision 5 and the telescope itself
hath a motion round its axis for the conveniency of
measuring the diameter of a planet in any direction.
The inclination of the diameter measured with the hori¬
zon is shown in degrees and minutes by a level and ver¬
nier on a graduated circle, at the breech of the telescope.
24. Besides the table for reducing the revolutions and 4 correc-
parts of the screw to minutes, seconds, &c. it will ^on to bc
require a table for correcting a small error which arises the anile!
from the excentric motion of the half mirrors. By this
motion their centre of curvature will approach a little
towards the large mirror; the equation for this pur¬
pose in small angles is insensible j but when angles to
be measured exceed ten minutes, it should not be ne¬
glected. Or, the angle measured may be corrected
by diminishing it in the proportion the versed sine of
the angle measured, supposing the eccentricity radius,
bears to the focal length of the small mirror.
25'Mr Ramsden preferred Cassegrain’s construction
of the reflecting telescope to either the Greo-orian or
Newtonian 5 because in the former, the errors of one
speculum are corrected by those of the other. From a
property of the reflecting telescope, not generally
known, that the apertures of the two specula are to each
other very nearly in the proportion of their focal lengths,
it follows, that their aberrations will be in the same pro¬
portion ) and these aberrations will be in the same di¬
rection, if the two specula are concave; or in con¬
trary directions if one speculum is concave and the
other convex. In the Gregorian telescope, botli
specula being concave, the aberration at the second
image will be tbe sum of the aberrations of the two
mirrors j but in the Cassegrainian telescope, one mir¬
ror being concave and the other convex, the aber¬
ration at the second image will be the difference be¬
tween the two aberrations. By assuming such propor¬
tions for the foci of the specula as are generally used
in the reflecting telescope, which is about as 1 to 4,
the aberration in the Cassegrainian construction will be
to that in the Gregorian as 3 to 5. -
26. The other is a dioptric micrometer, or one suited Mr Rams.
to the principle of refraction. This micrometer is ap-den's eye-
plied to the erect eye-tube of a refracting telescope, 8lass™crc>'
and is placed in the conjugate focus of the first eye-meter‘
glass : in which position, the image being considerably
magnified before it comes to the micrometer, any im¬
perfection in its glass will be magnified only by the re¬
maining eye-glasses, which in any telescope seldom ex¬
ceeds five or six times. By this position also the size
of the micrometer glass will not be the -x— part of
the area which would be required if it was placed in
the object-glass j and, notwithstanding this great dis¬
proportion
M I C [ 798 1 MIC
Microme¬
ter.
proportion of size, which is of great moment to the
practical optician, the same extent of scale is preserved,
and the images are uniformly bright in every part of
Plate
cctxxxvi.
Fig. 13-
Disadvan¬
tages of the
common
microme¬
ter.
* Phil.
Trans.
1782.
the field of the telescope.
27. Fig. 12. repi’esents the glasses of a refracting tele¬
scope ; xy, the principal pencil of rays from the object-
glass O •, tt and u u, the axis of two oblique pencils 5
«, the first eye-glass ; its conjugate focus, or the
place of the micrometer } b the second eye-glass 5 c the
third; and d the fourth, or that which is nearest the
eye. Let p be the diameter of the object-glass, e the
diameter of a pencil at ?«, and f the diameter of the
pencil at the eye ; it is evident, that the axis of the
pencils from every part of the image will cross each
ether at the point m ; and e, the width of the micro¬
meter-glass, is to p the diameter of the object-glass, as
ma is to go, which is the proportion of the mag¬
nifying power at the point m ; and the error caused
by an imperfection in the micrometer-glass placed at
m will be to the error, had the micrometer been at O,
as m is to p.
28. Fig. 13. represents the micrometer ; A, a convex
or concave lens bisected by a plane across its centre *, one
of these semi-lenses is fixed in a frame B, and the other
in the frame E •, which two frames slide on a plate FI,
and are pressed against it by thin plates a a : the frames
B and E are moved in contrary directions by turning
the button D : L is a scale of equal parts on the frame
B ; it is numbered from each end towards the middle
with 10, 20, &c. There are two verniers on the frame
E, one at M and the other at N, for the convenience
of measuring the diameter of a planet, &c. on both sides
the zero. The first division on both these verniers co¬
incides at the same time with the two zeros on the scale,
L ; and, if the frame is moved towards the right, the
relative motion of the two frames is showrn on the scale
L by the vernier M ; but if the frame B be moved to¬
wards the left, the relative motion is shown by the ver¬
nier N.—This micrometer has a. motion round the
axis of vision, for the convenience of measuring the
diameter of a planet, &c. in any direction, by turn¬
ing an endless screw F j and the inclination of the
diameter measured with the horizon is shown on the
circle g by a vernier on the plate V. The telescope
may be adjusted to distinct vision by a screw, which
moves the whole eye-tube w'ith the micrometer nearer
to or farther from the object-glass, as telescopes are ge¬
nerally made j or the same effect may be produced
without moving the micrometer, by sliding the part of
the eye tube tn on the part n, by help of a screw or pinion.
29. Notwithstanding these improvements on microme¬
ters, they are still liable to many sources of error. The
imperfections of the wire micrometer, (which was still
the most correct instrument for measuring small angles)
when employed to determine the distance of close
double stars, have been ably pointed out by I)r Herschel.
30. When two stars are taken between the parallel
wires the diameters must be included. Dr Herschel * has
in vain attempted to find lines sufficiently thin to extend
them across the centres of the stars so that their thick¬
ness might be neglected. The threads of the silk-worm,
W'ith such lenses as he uses, are so much magnified that
their diameter is more than that of many of the stars. Microme-
Besides, if they wrere much smaller, the deflection of ter.
light would make the attempt to measure the distance
of the centres this way fruitless 5 for he has ahvays found
the light of the stars to play upon those lines and sepa¬
rate their apparent diameters into two parts. Now
since the spurious diameters of the stars thus included,
are continually changing with the state of the air,
and the length of time we look at them, we are, in
some respect, left at an uncertainty j and our measures
taken at different times, and with difl’erent degrees of
attention, will vary on that account. Nor can we come
at the true distance of the centres of any two stars, un¬
less we know the semidiameters of the stars themselves $
for different stars have difierent apparent diameters,
which, with a power of 227, may differ from each
other as far as two seconds (d).
31. The next imperfection arises from a deflection of
light upon the wires when they approach very near to
each other; for if this be owing to a power of repulsion
lodged at the surface, it is easy to see that such powers
must interfere with each other, and give the measures
larger in proportion than they would have been if the
repulsive power of one wire had not been opposed by a
contrary power of the other wire.
32. Another disadvantage of these micrometers is an
uncertainty of the real zero. The least alteration in the
situation and quantity of light will affect the zero ; and
a change in the position of the wires will sometimes
produce a difference. To remove this difficulty Dr Her¬
schel always found his zero while the apparatus preser¬
ved the situation which it had when his observations were
made ; but this introduces an additional observation.
33. The next imperfection, is that every micrometer
hitherto used requires either a screw, or a divided bar
and pinion, to measure the distance of the wires or the
two images. Those acquainted with -works of this kind
are sensible how difficult it is to have screws perfectly
equal in every thread or revolution of each thread ;
or pinions and bars that shall be so evenly divided
as to be depended upon in every leaf and tooth to the
two or three thousandth part of an inch : and yet, on
account of the small scale of those micrometers, these
quantities are of the greatest consequence ; an error of
a single thousandth part inducing in most instruments a
mistake of several seconds.
34. The greatest imperfection of all is, that the wires
require to be illuminated ; and when Dr Herschel had
double stars to measure, one of which was very obscure,
he was obliged to be content with less light than is
necessary to make the wires distinct; and several stars
on this account could not be measured at all, though
not too close for the micrometer.
Dr Herschel, therefore, was led to direct his attention
to the improvement of these instruments ; and the result
of his endeavours lias been a very ingenious lamp-micro-
meter, which is not only free from the imperfections above
specified, but also possesses the advantages of a large scale.
35. It is represented in fig. 14. where ABGCFE is a Dr Her-
stand nine feet high, upon which a semicircular board schePslamf
q h 0gp is moveable upwards or downwards, and is held ™lcromc‘
in its situation by a peg p put into any one of the holestcr’
of
(d) These imperfections are remedied in the instrument described in p. 801.
M I C
rig. i.
of the upright piece AB. This board is a segment of
a circle of fourteen inches radius, and is about three
inches broader than a semicircle, to give room for the
handles r D, e P, to work. The use of this board is
to carry an arm L, thirty inches long, which is made
to move upon a pivot at the centre of the circle, by
means of a string, which passes in a groove upon the
edge of the semicircle p g o h q; the string is fastened to
a hook at o (not expressed in the figure, being at the
back of the arm L), and passing along the groove from
o h to q is turned over a pulley at q, and goes down to
a small barrel <?, within the plane of the circular board,
where a double-jointed handle e P commands its mo¬
tion. By this contrivance, we see, the arm L may' be
lifted up to any altitude from the horizontal position
to the perpendicular, or be suffered to descend by its
own weight below the horizontal to the reverse perpen¬
dicular situation. The weight of the handle P is suffi¬
cient to keep the arm in any given position *, but if the
motion should be too easy, a friction spring applied to
the barrel will moderate it at pleasure.
36. In front of the arm L a small slider, about three
inches long, is moveable in a rabbet from the end L
towards the centre backwards and forwards. A string
is fastened to the left side of the little slider, and goes
towards L, where it passes round a pulley at w, and
returns under the arm from m, n, towards the centre,
where it is led in a groove on the edge of the arm,
which is of a circular form, upwards to a barrel
(raised above the plane of the circular board) at r,
to which the handle r D is fastened. A second string
is fastened to the slider, at the right side, and goes to¬
wards the centre, where it passes over a pulley n ; and
the weight w, which is suspended by the end of this
string, returns the slider towards the centre, when a
contrary turn of the handle permits it to act.
37. By a and b are represented two small lamps, two
inches high, l-J in breadth by in depth. The sides,
back, and top, are made so as to permit no light to he
seen, and the front consists of a thin brass sliding door.
The flame in the lamprz is placed three-tenths of an inch
from the left side, three-tenths from the front, and half
an inch from the bottom. In the lamp b it is placed at
the same height and distance, measuring from the right
side. The wick of the flame consists only of a single
very thin lamp cotton-thread j for the smallest flame
being sufficient, it is easier to keep it burning in so
confined a place. In the top of each lamp must be a
little slit lengthways, and a small opening in one side
near the upper part, to permit the air to circulate to
feed the flame. To prevent every reflection of light,
the side opening of the lamp a should be to the right,
and that of the lamp b to the left. In the sliding door
of each lamp is made a small hole with the point of a
very fine needle just opposite the place where the wicks
are burning, so that when the sliders are shut down,
and every thing dark, nothing shall be seen but trvo
fine lucid points of the size of two stars of the third or
fourth magnitude. The lamp a is placed so that its
lucid point may be in the centre of the circular board
where it is fixed. The lamp b is hung to the little
slider which moves in the. rabbet of the arm, so that its
lucid point, in an horizontal position of the arm, may
be on a level with the lucid point in the centre. I he
moveable lamp is suspended upon apiece of brass fasten-
' 4
[ 799 J
M I
r*
ed to the slider by a pin exactly behind the flame, upon Microme-
which it moves as a pivot. The lamp is balanced at ter.
the bottom by a leaden weight, so as to remain up- v 1 *
right, when the arm is either lifted above or depressed
below the horizontal position. The double-jointed
handles i' D, e P, consist of deal rods, 10 feet long,
and the lowest of them may have divisions, marked
upon it near the end P, expressing exactly the dis¬
tance from the central lucid point in feet, inches, and
tenths.
38. Hence we see,that a personat a distance of 10 feet
may govern the tw'o lucid points, so as to bring them
into any required position south or north preceding or
following from o to 90° by using the handle P, and
also to any distance from six-tenths of an inch to five or
six and twenty inches by means of the handle D. If
any reflection or appearance of light should be left from
the top or sides of the lamps, a temporary screen, con¬
sisting of a long piece of pasteboard, or a wire frame co¬
vered with black cloth, of the length of the whole arm,
and of any required breadth, with a slit of half an inch
broad in the middle, may be affixed to the arm by four
bent wires projecting an inch or two before the lamps,
situated so that the moveable lucid point may pass along
the opening left for that purpose.
Pig. 15. represents part of the arm L, half the real Fig. 15.
size *, S the slider; m the pulley, over which the cord
a’ £ y 2; is returned towards the centre ; v the other cord
going to the pulley n of fig. 14. li the brass piece
moveable upon the pin c, to keep the lamp upright.
At R is a wire rivetted to the brass piece, upon which
is held the lamp by a nut and screw. Fig. 16. 17. re-Fig- itf-17*
present the lamps a, /, with the sliding doors open,
to show the situation of the wick. W is the leaden
weight with a hole d in it, through which the wire R
of fig. 15. is to be passed when the lamp is to be fast¬
ened to the sliderS. Fig. 18. represents the lamp a Fig. x8.
with the sliding door shut; l the lucid point; and z-t
the openings at the top, and s at the sides, for the ad¬
mission of air.
39. The motions of this micrometer are capable of great
improvement by the application of wheels and pinions,
and other mechanical resources ; but as the principal
object is only to be able to adjust the two lucid points
to the required position and distance, and to keep them
there for a fewr minutes, while the observer measures
their distance, it will be unnecessary to say more upon
the subject.
40. It is well known that we can with one eye look in¬
to a telescope, and see an object much magnified, while
the other eye may see a scale upon which the magnified
picture is thrown. In this manner Dr Herschel gene¬
rally determined the power of his telescopes; and any
one who has been accustomed to make such observations
will seldom mistake so much as one in fifty in determin¬
ing the power of an instrument, and that degree of ex¬
actness is fully sufficient for the purpose.
41. When Dr Herschel uses this instrument he puts it
at ten feet distance from the left eye, in a line perpendi-^
cular to the tube of his Newtonian telescope, and raises microme-
the moveable board to such a height that the lucid ter.
point of the central lamp may be upon a level with the
eve. The handles, lifted up, are passed through two
loops fastened to the tube, just by the observer, so as to
be ready for his use. The end of tube is cut away,
so *
MIC [ 800 ] M I C
IVticrome- so as to leave the left eye entirely free to see the whole
ter. micrometer.
u‘ ^ 42. The telescope beino; directetl to a double star, it is
viewed with the right eye, and at the same time with
the left it is seen projected upon the micrometer ; then,
by the handle P, the arm is raised or depressed so as to
bring the two lucid points to a similar situation with the
two stars 5 and, by the handle 1), the moveable lucid
point is brought to the same distance of the two stars, so
that the two lucid points may be exactly covered by the
stars.
43. With a rule, divided into inches and fortieth parts,
the distance of the lucid points is thus determined with
the greatest accuracy j and the measure thus obtained
is the tangent of the magnified angle under which the
stars are seen to a radius of ten feet} therefore, the
angle being found and divided by the power of the te¬
lescope, the real angular distance of the centres of a
double star is ascertained. On September 25. 1781,
DrHerschel measured *e Hereulis with this instrument.
Having caused the two lucid points to coincide with
the stars, he found the radius or distance of the central
lamp from the eye 10 feet 4.15 inches j the tangent or
distance of the two lucid points 50.6 fortieth parts of an
inch j this gives the magnified angle 35', and dividing
by the power 460, we obtain 4" 34,'7 for the distance
of the centres of the two stars. The scale of the mi¬
crometer at this convenient distance, with the power of
460, is above a quarter of an inch to a second ; and by
putting on a power of 93 2, we obtain a scale of more
than half an inch to a second, without increasing the
distance of the micrometer j whereas the most perfect
micrometers, with the same instrument, had a scale of
less than the two thousandth part of an inch to a second.
Mr Brew- 44. Mr Brewster has lately directed his attention to
ster's mi- the improvement of micrometers, and has invented one in
crometer. particular which appears to be highly deserving of no¬
tice in this place. In this instrument a pair of fixed
wires is made to subtend different angles by varying the
magnifying power of* the telescope, by sliding one tube
within another \ whereas in all other micrometers with
wires this effect is produced by mechanical contrivances.
Mr Brewster’s method of shutting and opening the
wires optically is therefore free from all those sources of
error to which other micrometers are subject, and ren¬
ders it particularly useful to the practical astronomer 5
while the mode of changing the magnifying power by
the motion of a second object-glass affords a length of
scale equal to the local distance of the principal object-
glass. The same principle is peculiarly applicable to the
Gregorian telescope ; for the magnifying power of this
instrument can be changed by merely increasing or di¬
minishing the distance of the eye-piece from the large
speculum.
45. In the common micrometer, which can manifestly,
as well as Mr Cavallo’s arid Mr Brewster’s, be used in
the mensuration of distances, the focal length of the tele¬
scope to which it is attached remains always the same}
so that a correction computed from an optical theorem
must be applied to every angle that is measured : but
in Mr Brewster’s telescope and micrometer, the focal
length varies in the same proportion as the distance of
the object $ and consequently no correction of the
angles can be necessary. To obviate the necessity of
having a stand for the instrument, which would prevent
2
its usefulness at sea, Mr Brewster divides the second or Microre-*
moveable object-glass into two, as in the divided object- jCri
glass micrometer. By this contrivance two images are
formed, and these images are separated or made to form
different angles at the eye, by bringing-the moveabla
object-glass nearer to the fixed one Jn determining
the angle,’therefore, we have only to. bring the two
images of the object into contact j and such contact the
eye is capable of ascertaining even during the agitation
of a carriage, as the two images retain the same relative
position whatever be their absolute motion.
This ingenious instrument, being formed with sliding
tubes, is very portable and convenient 5 and will be
found extremely useful to medical gentlemen, and others
who may wish to ascertain distances without a more
cumbersome apparatus. iiaiiifs Nat, by Gre¬
gory, vol. ii p. 427.
46. Mr Brewster, we understand, still continues to di¬
rect his attention to the subject of micrometers, keeping
in view the improvement of these instruments, not only
in greater accuracy of construction, but also in their
more extensive application to various practical pur¬
poses. An account of those uses and improvements is
to form the subject of au appropriate publication 5 and,
if we are rightly informed, the author deems them of
sufficient importance to secure to himself, by patent,
the exclusive right to the advantages which be thinks
will arise from using them.
47. A very simple micrometer for measuring small an-Cavallo’s
gles with the telescope has been invented byMrCavalio*,modler-?£*
It consists of a thin and narrow slip of mother-of-pearl
finely divided, and situated in the focus of the eye-glass of* philot,
a telescope, just where the image of the object is form- Tram-
ed. It is immaterial whether the telescope he a refractor Llll\ P-
or a reflector, provided the eye-glass be a convex lens. sS'^
The simplest way of fixing it is to stick it upon the
diaphragm, which generally stands within the tube, in
the focus of the eye-glass. When thus fixed, the divi¬
sions of the micrometrical scale will appear very di¬
stinct, unless the diaphragm is not exactly in the focus 5
in which case, the scale must be placed accurately in
the focus of the eye-glass, either by moving the dia¬
phragm, or Jby interposing any thin substance, such as
paper or card between it and the scale. This construc¬
tion is fully sufficient, when the telescope is always to
he used by the same person ; but when different persona
are to use it, then the diaphragm which supports the
micrometer must be constructed so as'to be easily moved
backwards or forwards, though that motion need not
he greater than about or of an inch.
The scale of the micrometer is represented in fig. 19. Fig. I#1
which is about four times greater than one which Mr
Cavallo has adapted to a three-feet achromatic telescope
that magnifies about 84 times. It is something less
than the 24th part of an inch broad; its thickness is
equal to that of common writing paper 5 and the length
of it is determined by the breadth of the field of view.
The divisions are 200tbs of an inch, and the lines which
form them reach from one edge of the scale to about the
middle of it, excepting every fifth and tenth division,
which are longer. Two divisions of the scale in the te¬
lescope already mentioned are very nearly equal to one
minute $ and as a quarter of one of those divisions may
be easily distinguished by the eye, an angle of one-eighth
part of a minute, or of 7//^, may be measured with it.
Fig. 20.
g- 21.
MIC [ 801
In looking through a telescope furnished with such a
micrometer, the field of view appears divided by the
micrometer scale, the breadth of which occupies about
4th of the aperture ; and as the scale is semitransparent,
that part of the object which is behind it may be dis¬
cerned sufficiently well to ascertain the division, with
which its borders coincide. Fig. 20. shows the appear¬
ance of the field of the telescope with the micrometer,
when directed to the title page of the Philosophical
Transactions, in which it appears that the thickness of
the letter C is equal to three-fourths of a division, the
diameter of the O is equal to three divisions, and so on.
48. After having adapted this micrometer to the
telescope, we must then ascertain the value of the
divisions. It is hardly necessary to mention in this
place, that though those divisions measure the chords
of the angles, and not the angles or arches themselves,
and the chords are not as the arches, yet in small angles
the chords, arches, sines, and tangents, follow the same
proportion so very nearly, that the difference may be
safely neglected: so that if one division of this micro¬
meter is equal to one minute, we may conclude that
two divisions are equal to two minutes, three divisions
to three minutes, and so on. In order to ascertain the
value of the divisions of this micrometer, the following
simple and accurate method may be adopted,
Mark upon a wall the length of six inches, by mak¬
ing two dots or lines six inches asunder, or by fixing a
six-inch ruler upon a stand j then place the telescope
before it so that the ruler or six-inch length may be at
right angles with the direction of the telescope, and
just 57 feet 34 inches distant from the object-glass of
the telescope.: this done, look through the telescope at
the ruler or other extension of six inches, and observe
how many divisions of the micrometer are equal to it,
and that same number of divisions is equal to half a de¬
gree, 01-30', as it may be shewn by plane trigonometry.
49. When this value has been once ascertained, any
other angle measured by any other number of divisions is
determined by simple proportion. Thus, if the diameter
of the sun seen through the same telescope, be equal to
12 divisions, say as Il4 divisions are to 30 minutes,
so are 12 divisions to
/12' X 3pr\
V 11,5 /
3i'.3, which is the
required diameter of the sun.
Notwithstanding the facility of this calculation, a
scale may be made answering to the divisions of a mi¬
crometer, which will show the angle corresponding to
any number of divisions by mere inspection. Thus, for
the above-mentioned small telescope, the scale is repre¬
sented in fig. 21. AB is a line drawn at pleasure ; it
is then divided into 23 equal parts, and those divisions
which represent the divisions of the micrometer that are
equal to one degree, are marked on one side of it. The
line is then divided again into 60 equal parts, which are
marked on the other side of it; and these divisions re¬
present the minutes which correspond to the divisions of
the micrometer: thus the figure shows, that six divi¬
sions of the micrometer are equal to 154 minutes,
divisions are nearly equal to 29 minutes, &c. What has
been said of minutes may be said of seconds also, when
the scale is to be applied to a large telescope.
50. We shall therefore add some practical rules to
render this micrometer useful to persons unacquainted
with tr1 onometry arid the use of logarithms.
VOL. XIII. Part II. " f
] MIC
Problem I. The angle, not exceeding one degree,
which is subtended by an extension of one foot perpen¬
dicular to the axis of the telescope being given, to find
its distance from the object-glass of the telescope.
Buie 1. If the angle be expressed in minutes, say, as
the given angle is to 60, so is 687.55 to a fourth pro¬
portional, which gives the answer in inches.— 2. If the
angle be expressed in seconds, say, as the given angle
is to 3600, so is 687.55 to a fourth proportional, which
expresses the answer in inches.
Example. At what distance is a globe of one foot
diameter when it subtends an angle of two seconds ?
2" : 3600" :: 687.55 : 87’55 = r237590
inches, or 103132I feet, which is the answer required.
Problem II. The angle, not exceeding one degree,
which is subtended by any known extension, being gi¬
ven, to find its distance from the object-glass of the tele¬
scope.
Rule. Proceed as if the extension were of one foot by
Problem I. and call the answer B ; then, if the extension
in question be expressed in inches, say, as 12 inches are
to that extension, so is B to a fourth proportional, which
is the answer in inches 5 but if the extension in question
be expressed in feet, then you need only multiply it by
B, and the product is the answer in inches.
Example. At what distance is a man six feet high,
when he appears to subtend an angle of 30".
By Problem I.' if the man were one foot high, the
distance would be 82506 inches ; but as he is six feet
high, therefore multiply 82506 by 6, and the product
gives the required distance, which is 495036 inches, or
41253 feet.
For greater conveniency, especially in travelling, or
in such circumstances in which one has not the op¬
portunity of making even the easy calculations required
in those problems, the following two tables have been com¬
puted 5 the first of which shows the distance answering
to any angle from one minute to one degree, which is
subtended by a man, the height of which has been call¬
ed an extension of six feet; because, at a mean, such is
the height of a man when dressed with a hat and
shoes on.
Thus, if it is required to measure the extension of a
street, let a foot ruler be placed at the end of the street;
measure the angle it subtends, which suppose to be 36',
and in the table you will have the required distance op¬
posite 36', which is 954 feet. Thus also a man who
appears to be 49' high, is at the distance of 421 feet.
Angles subtended by an extension of one Foot at different
Distances.
Angles.
Min. 1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Distances in
Feet.
3437-7
1718.9
II45-9
8594
687.5
572-9
491.1
429.7
382.0
345-7
Angles
Distances in
Feet
Min. 11
12
*3
14
15
16
*7
18
19,
20
3I2-5
286.5
264.4
245-5
229.2
214.8
202.2
191.0
180.9
171.8
5l
Angles
MIC
A ngles.
Min. 21
22
23
24
25
26
2?
28
29
3°
31
S2
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
Distances in
Feet.
162.7
156.2
149.4
143.2
I37*5
132.2
127.3
122.7
118.5
114.6
110.9
107.4
104.2
ioi.i
98
95
92
90
88.1
85-9
Angles.
Min. 41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
5°
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
Distances in
Feet.
83.8
81.8
79-9
78.1
76.4
74-7
73-1
71.6
70.1
68.7
67.4
66.1
64.8
63.6
62.5
61.4
60.3
59-2
58.2
58.3
We Shall give Microme¬
ter.
Angles subtended by an Extension of six Feet at dif-
fevent Distances.
Angles.
Min. 1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
J4
J5
16
*7
18
J9
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
3°
Distances in
Feet,
20626.8
I°3I3.
6875.4
5I5^*5
4125.2
3437-7
2946.6
2578.2
2291.8
2062.6
1875.2
1718.8
1586.7
I473-3
I375-
1298.1
1.213.3
11459
1085.6
1031.4
982.2
937-6
896.8
859 4
825.
793-3
763-9
736.6
7II-3
687.5
Angles.
Min. 31
32
33
34
35
S6
37
38
39
4°
41
42
43'
44
45
46
47
48
49
5°
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
Distances in
Feet.
665.4
644-5
625.
606.6
589-3
572-9
557-5
542.8
52^9
5i5-6
5Q3-1
491.1
479-7
4688.
4584-
448.4
438.9
429.7
421.
412.5
404.4
396-7
389.2
381.9
375*
368.3
361.9
355-6
349.6
343-7
51. The following is the account of a micrometer in-
TP&nted by Mr Brewster, of the circumstances which led
S02 ] MIC
to the invention, and of its advantages,
it in his own words *.
“ In the winter of 1805 (h® observes), when I was
employed in delineating the surface of the moon, JMl'Brew-
wished to measure the diameter of the lunar spots by la/mother*
applying Mr Cavallo’s micrometer to a thirty-inch of-pearl mi-
achromatic telescope made by Berge. But as the eye- rrometer.
piece was moved by a rack and pinion, and conse-*^^-
quently could not turn round its axis, the micrometer
must have remained stationary, and could only measure p. 4s.
angles in one direction. This difficulty, indeed, might
have been surmounted by a mechanical contrivance for
turning the diaphragm about its centre, or more simply
by giving a motion of rotation to the tube which con¬
tains the third and fourth eye-glasses. Such a change
. in the eye-piece, however, was both inconvenient and
difficult to be made. Mr Cavallo’s micrometer, there?
fore, has this great disadvantage, that it cannot be used
in reflecting telescopes, or in any achromatic telescope
where the adjustment of the eye-piece is effected by
rackwork, unless the structure of these instruments is
altered for the purpose. Another disadvantage of this
micrometer arises from the slip of mother-of-pearl pas¬
sing through the centre of the field. The picture in
the focus of the eye-glass is broken into two parts, and
the view is rendered still more unpleasant by the in¬
equality of the segments into which the field is divided.
In addition to these disadvantages, the different divi¬
sions of the micrometer are at unequal distances from-
the eye-glass which views them, and therefore can nei¬
ther appear equally distinct nor subtend equal angles at
the eye.
“ Finding that Mr Cavallo’s instrument laboured un¬
der these imperfections, I thought of a circular mother-
of-pearl micrometer which is free from them all, and
has likewise the advantage of a kind of diagonal scale,
increasing in accuracy with the angle to be measured.
This micrometer, which I got executed by Miller and
Adie, optical instrument-makers in Edinburgh, and
which I have often used, both in determining small
angles in the heavens and such as are subtended by ter?
restrial objects, is represented in fig. 27. which exhibits Plate
its appearances in the focus of the fourth eye-glass, cccxxxvi.
The black ring, which forms part of the figure, is the
diaphragm, and the remaining part is a ring of mother-
of-pearl, having its interior circumference divided into
360 equal parts. The mother-of-pearl ring, which ap¬
pears connected with the diaphragm, is completely se¬
parate from it, and is fixed at the end of a brass tube
which is made to move between the third eye-glass and
the diaphragm, so that the divided circumference may
be placed exactly in the focus of the glass next the eye.
When the micrometer is thus fitted into the telescope,
the angle subtended by the whole field of view, or by
the diameter of the innermost circle of the micrometer,
must be determined either by measuring a base or by
the passage of an equatoreal star, and the angles sub¬
tended by any number of divisions or degrees will be
found by a table constructed in the following manner.
52. “ Let AmpnJj, fig. 28, be the interior circumfer¬
ence of the micrometer scale, and let mnhe the object to
be measured. Bisect the arch m n in 71, and draw C
CjhC n. The line C p will be at right angles to m «,
and therefore m n will be twice the sine of half the
arch m n. Consequently, AB \ m nzzrad. sine of
Tig. 2S.
i m p ns
MIC [ 803 1 M I C
Slicrome- ’m p n ; therefore m n X R = sin. ’m pnX AB, and
ter. sin.imowxAB sin. ^mpn
m p n —  — ^ X AB ; a for-
K
nmla by which the angle subtended by the chord of any
number of degrees may be easily found. The first part
, . sin inipn .
oi the tormula, viz. ---!— is constant, while AB
varies with the size of the micrometer and with the
magnifying power which is applied. We have there¬
fore computed the following table, containing the value
of the constant part of the formula for every degree or
division of the scale.
Deg.
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
14
15
16
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
3°
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
Constant
Part of
the
Formula
.0087
•OI74
.0262
•°349
.0436
•0523
.0610
.0698
.0785
.0872
.0958
.1045
.1132
.1219
•I3°5
•I392
.1478
.1564
.1650
.i736
.1822
.1908
•I994
.2079
.2164
.2250
•2334
.2419
.2504
.2588
.2672
.2756
.2840
.2923
.3007
•3°90
•3256
•3338
.3420
•3502
•3584
•3665
•3746
.3827
Deg.
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
Constant
Part
•39°7
•3987
.4067
•4I47
.4226
•4305
•4384
.4462
•4540
.4617
•4695
.4771
.4848
.4924
. cooo
•5075
•5r50
•5225
•5299
•5373
•5446
*55I9
•5592
.5664
•5735
.5807
•5878
5948
.6018
.6088
•6157
.6225
.6293
.6361
.6428
.6494
.6561
.6626
.6691
6756
.6820 131
Deg.
6884
6947
7009
7071
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
no
in
112
ri3
114
”5
116
H7
118
”9
120
121
122
123
124
* 25
126
127
128
129
130
Constant
Part
132
I33
34
35
•7I33
•7I93
•7254
•73*4
•7373
•7431
.7490
•7547
.7604
.7660
•77i6
.7771
.7826
.7880
•7934
.7986
•8039
.8090
.8141
.8192
.8241
.8290
•8339
.8387
•8434
.8480
.8326
•8572
.8616
.8660
.8704
.8746
.8788
.8829
.8870
.8910
.8949
.8988
.9026
.9063
.9100
•9I35
•9I7I
.9205
■9239
Deg.
136
*37
r38
!39
140
141
142
x43
x44
x45
146
J47
148
x49
I5°
I5I
x52
J53
154
155
156
157
158
x59
160
161
162
163
164
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
Constant
Part.
•9272
.9304
•9336
•9367
•9397
.9426
•9455
•9483
•9511
•9537
•9563
.9588
.96! 3
.9636
•9659
.9681
•9703
.9724
•9744
•9763
.9781
•9799
.9816
•9833
.9848
.9863
.9877
.9890
•99° 3
.9914
•9925
•9936
•9945
•9954
.9962
.9969
.9976
.9981
.9986
.9990
•9994
.9996
.9998
1.0000
1.0000
53. “ In order to find the angle subtended by any num- Microme-
ber of degrees, we have only to multiply the constant ter.
part of the formula corresponding to that number in the 1 -v——
table by AB, or the angle subtended by the whole
field. Thus if AB is 30 minutes, as it happens to be
in the micrometer which I have constructed, the angle
subtended by 1 degree of the scale will be 30' X .009:0:
i6f seconds, and the angle subtended by 40 degrees
will be 30'X •342=01 o' 15.6" 5 and by making the cal¬
culation it will be found that as the angle to be mea¬
sured increases, the accuracy of the scale also increases ;
for when the arch is only 1 or 2 degrees, a variation of
1 degree produces a variation of about 16 seconds in
the angle j whereas when the arch is between 170 and
180, the variation of a degree does not produce a
change much more than one second in the angle. This
is a most important advantage in the circular scale, as
in Cavallo’s micrometer a limit is necessarily put to the
size of the divisions.
“ It is obvious, from an inspection of fig. 27. that there
is no occasion for turning the circular micrometer round
its axis, because the divided circumference lies in every
possible direction. In fig. 2. for example, if the object
has the direction a b it will be measured by the arch
ao b, and if it lies in the line c d it will be measured
by the arch c r d.
“ In the circular micrometer which I have been in
the habit of using, AB, or the diameter of the field of
view, is exactly half an inch, the diameter of the brass
tube in which it is fixed is one inch, the length of the
tube half an inch, and the degrees of the divided cir¬
cumference -33-5- of an inch.
54. II. The micrometer has not only been applied to Application
telescopes, and employed for astronomical purposes j but °f the mi-
there have also been various contrivances for adapting crom.eter
it to MICROSCOPICAL observations. Mr Leeuwenhoeck’s ^o^10
method of estimating the size of small objects was by
comparing them with grains of sand, of which 100 in
a line took up an inch. These grains he laid upon the
same plate with his objects, and viewed them at the
same time. Dr Jurin’s method was similar to this5 for
he found the diameter of a piece of fine silver wire, by
wrapping it as close as he could about a pin, and ob¬
serving how many rings made an inch j and he used
this wire in the same manner as Leeuwenhoeck employr-
ed his sand. Dr Hooke looked upon the magnified ob¬
ject with one eye, while at the same time he viewed
other objects placed at the same distance with the other
eye. In this manner he was able, by the help of a
ruler, divided into inches and small parts, and laid on
the pedestal of the microscope, to cast as it were the
magnified appearance of the object upon the ruler, and
thus exactly to measure the diameter which it appeared
to have through the glass j which being compared with
the diameter as it appeared to the naked eye, showed
the degree in which it was magnified.
55. Mr Martin* recommended such a micrometer for * Martin's
a microscope as had been applied to telescopes : for ht Optics,
advises to draw a number of parallel lines on a piece p‘ 277"
of glass, with the fine point of a diamond, at the di¬
stance of one-fortieth of an inch from one another, and
to place it in the focus of the eye-glass. By this me¬
thod, Dr Smith contrived to take the exact draught of
objects viewed by a double microscope ; for he advises
5 I 2 *•
Microme¬
ter.
f Microsco¬
pical JEs-
»«ys, P- 59-
Fig. 25.
MIC [ 804 I M I C
to get a lattice, made with small silver v ires or squares
drawn upon a plain glass by the strokes of a diamond,
and to put it into the place of the image, formed by
the object-glass : then by transferring the parts of the
object, seen in the squares of the glass or lattice upon
similar corresponding squares drawn on paper, the pic¬
ture may be exactly taken. Mr Martin also introduced
into compound microscopes another micrometer, consist¬
ing of a screw.
yff. The mode of actual admeasurement (Mr Adams
observes f) is without doubt the most simple that can be
used j as by it we comprehend, in a manner, atone
glance, the different effects of combined glasses ; and as
it saves the trouble, and avoids tlm obscurity of the
usual modes of calculation : but many persons find it
exceedingly difficult to adopt this method, because they
have not been accustomed to observe with both eyes at
once. To obviate this inconvenience, the late Mr
Adams contrived an instrument called the Needle-Mi¬
crometer, which was first described in his Micrographia
lllustrata ; and of which, as now constructed, we have
the following description by his son Mr George Adams
in the ingenious Essays above quoted..
This micrometer consists of a screw, which has 50
threads to an inch ; this screw carries an index, which
points to the divisions on a circular plate, which is
fixed at right angles to the axis of the screw. The
revolutions of the screw are counted or) a scale, which
is an inch divided into 50 parts j the index to these di¬
visions is a flower-de-luce marked upon the slider,
which carries the needle point across the field of the mi¬
croscope. Every revolution of the micrometer screw
measures ^th part of an inch, which is again subdi¬
vided by means of the divisions on the circular plate,
as this is divided into 20 equal parts, over which the
index passes at every revolution of the screw by which
means we obtain with ease the measure of 1 oooth part
of an inch : for 50, the number of threads on the
screw in one iuch, being multiplied by 20, the divi¬
sions on the circular plate are equal to ioooj so that
each division on the circular plate shows that the
needle lias either advanced or receded 1000th part of
an inch.
57. To place this micrometer on the body of the mi¬
croscope, open the circular part FKH, fig. 25. by taking
out the screw G, throw hack the semicircle FK., which
moves upon a joint at K j then turn the sliding tube of
the body of the microscope, so that the small holes
which are in both tubes may exactly coincide, and let
the needle g ol the micrometer have a free passage
through them ; after this, screw it fast upon the body
by the screw G. The needle will now traverse the
field of the microscope, and measure the length and
breadth of the image of any object that is applied to it.
But further assistance must be had, in order to measure
the object itself, which is a subject of real importance 5
for though we have ascertained the power of the mi¬
croscope, and know that it is so many thousand times,
yet this will be of little assistance towards ascertaining
an accurate idea of its real size j for our ideas of bulk
being formed by the comparison of one object with
another, we can only judge of that of any particular
body, by comparing it with another whose size is
known: the same thing is necessary, in order to form
an estimate by the microscope •, therefore, to ascertain
I
the real measure of the object, we must make the point Micrmtu
of the needle pass over the image of a known part of ter.
an inch placed on the stage, and write down the revo- v—*
lutions made by the screw, while the needle passed
over the image of this known measure 5 by which
means we ascertain the number of revolutions on the
screw, which are adequate to a real and known mea¬
sure on the stage. As it requires an attentive eye to
watch the motion of the needle point as it passes over
the image of a known part of an inch on the stage, we
ought not to trust to one single measurement of the
image, but ought to repeat it at least six times *, then
add the six measures thus obtained together, and di¬
vide their sum by six, or the number of trials 5 the
quotient will be the mean of all the trials. This result
is to he placed in a column of a table next to that
which contains the number of the magnifier’s.
58. Bv the assistance of the sectoral scale, we obtain
with ease a small part of an inch. This scale is shown t.
at fig. 22, 23, 24, in which the two lines c a, c b, with 22,~b
the side a b, form an isosceles triangle; each of the ^
sides is two inches long, and the base still only of
one-tenth of an inch. The longer sides may be of any
given length, and the base still only orre-tenth of an
inch. The longer lines may he considered as the line
of lines upon a sector opened to one-tenth of an inch.
Hence whatever number of equal parts c a, c b are di¬
vided into, their transverse measure will he such a part
of one-tenth as is expressed by their division. Thus
if it he divided into ten equal parts, this will divide
the inclr into 100 equal parts j the first division next
c will he equal to 100th pari of an inch, because it is
the tenth part of one-tenth of an inch. If these lines
are divided into twenty equal parts, the inch will be
by that means divided into 200 equal parts. Lastly,
ii a b, c a, are made three inches long, and divided into
100 equal parts, "we obtain with ease the 1 oooth part.
The scale is represented as solid at fig. 23. but as per¬
forated at fig. 22. and 24. so that the light passes
through the aperture, when the sectoral part is placed
on the stage.
59. To use this scale, first fix the micrometer, fig. 25.
to the body of the microscope ; then fit the sectoral
scale, fig. 24. in the stage, and adjust the microscope
to its proper focus or distance from the scale, which is
to be moved till the base appears in the middle of the
field of view then bring the needle point g, fig. 25.
(by turning the screw L) to touch one of the lines c a,
exactly at the point answering to 20 on the sectoral
scale. The index a of the micrometer is to be set to
the first division, and that on the dial plate to 20, which
is both the beginning and end of its divisions ; we are
then prepared to find the magnifying power of every
magnifier in the compound microscope which we aje
using.
60. Example. Everything being prepared agreeable
to the foregoing directions, suppose you are desirous of
ascertaining the magnifying power of the lens marked
N° 4. turn the micrometer screw until the point of
the needle has passed over the magnified image of the
tenth part of one inch ; then the division, where the
two indices remain, will show how many revolutions,
and parts of a revolution, the screw has made, while
the needle point traversed the magnified image of the
one-tenth of an inch j suppose the result to be 26 re¬
volutions
MIC [
Miefome. volutions of the screw, and 14 parts of another revolu-
ter- tion, this is equal to 26 multiplied by 20, added to 14 ;
| that is, 534,000 parts of an inch. The 26 divisions
found on the straight scale of the micrometer, while
the point of the needle passed over the magnified
image of one-tenth part of an inch, were multiplied
Tig. 2$. by 20, because the circular plate CD, fig. 25. is pi-
vided into 20 equal parts this produced $20; then
adding the 14 parts of the next revolution, we obtain
the 534,000 parts of an inch, or five-tenths and 3400
parts of another tenth, which is the measure of the
magnified image of one-tenth of an inch, at the aper¬
ture of the eye-glasses or at their foci. Now if we
suppose the focus of the two eye-glasses to he one
inch, the double thereof is two inches ; or if we reck¬
on in the icooth part of an inch, we have 2000 parts
for the distance of the eye from the needle point of
the micrometer. Again, if we take the distance of
the image from the object at the stage at 6 inches, or
6000, and add thereto 2000, double the distance of
the focus of the eye-glass, we shall have 8000 parts of
an inch for the distance of the eye from the object; and
as the glasses double the image, we must double the num¬
ber 534 found upon the micrometer, which then makes
1068 ; then, by the following analogy, we shall ob¬
tain the number of times the microscope magnifies the
diameter of the object; say, as 240, the distance of
the eye from the image of the object, is to 800, the
distance of the eye from the object ; so is 1068, double
the measure found on the micrometer, to 3563, or the
number of times the microscope magnifies the diame¬
ter of the object. By working in this manner, the
magnifying power of each lens used with the compound
mici’oscope may he easily found, though the result will
be different in different compound microscopes, varying
according to the combination of the lenses, their dis¬
tance from the object and one another, &c.
61. Having discovered the magnifying power of the
microscope, with the different object-lenses that are used
therewith, our next subject is to find out the real size
of the objects themselves, and their different parts :
this is easily effected, by finding how many revolutions
of the micrometer screw answer to a known measure
on the sectoral scale or other object placed on the
stage ; from the number thus found, a table should he
constructed, expressing the value of the different revo¬
lutions of the micrometer with that object lews, by
which the primary number was obtained. Similar
tables must be constructed for each object lens. By a
set of tables of this kind, the observer may readily find
the measure of any object he is examining; for he has
only to make the needle point traverse over this object,
and observe the number of revolutions the screw has
made in its passage, and then look into his table for the
real measure which corresponds to this number of revo¬
lutions, which is the measure required.
Description ^2* Coventry of Southwark has favoured us with
of Mr Co- the description of a micrometer of his own invention; the
ventry’s mi-scale of which, for minuteness, surpasses every instru-
£rometers merit of the kind of which we have any knowledge, and
scopes. which, indeed, we could scarcely have formed a con¬
ception, had he not indulged us with several of these
instruments, graduated as underneath.
805
]
M I C
1 he micrometer is composed of glass, ivory, silver,
&c. on which are drawn parallel lines from the 10th
to the 10,000th part of an inch. But an instrument
thus divided, he observes, is more for curiosity than
use : hut one ol those which Mr Coventry has sent us
is divided into squares, so small that sixteen millions of
them are contained on the surface of one square inch,
each square appearing under the microscope true and
distinct ; and though so small, it is a fact, that animal-
cula are found which may be contained in one of these
squares.
1 he use of micrometers, when applied to micro¬
scopes, is to measure the natural size of the object,
and how much that object is magnified. To ascertain
tire real size ol an object in the single microscope, no¬
thing more is required than to lay it on the microme¬
ter, and adjust it to the focus of the magnifier, no¬
ticing how many divisions of the micrometer it covers.
Suppose the parallel lines of the micrometer to be the
1000th of an inch, and the object covers two divisions;
its real size is yooths of an inch ; if five, 2Gdths, and
so on.
But to find how much the object is magnified,
is not mathematically determined so easily by the single
as by the compound microscope: but the follow¬
ing simple method (says Mr Coventry) I have ge¬
nerally adopted, and think it tolerably accurate.
Adjust a micrometer under the microscope 0, say the
1 ooth of an inch of divisions, with a small object on
it; rf square, the better : notice how many divisions one
side of the object covers, suppose 10 : then cut a piece
of white paper something larger than the magnified ap¬
pearance of the object : then fix one eye on the object
through the microscope, and the other at the same time
on the paper, lowering it down till the object and the
paper appear level and distinct : then cut the paper till
it appear exactly the size of the magnified object; the
paper being then measured, suppose an inch square:
Now, as the object under the magnifier, which appear¬
ed to be one inch square, was in reality only ten hun¬
dredths, or the tenth of an inch, the experiment proves
that it is magnified ten times in length, one hundred
times in superfices, and one thousand times in cube,
which is the magnifying power of the glass; and, in
the same manner, a table may be made of the power of
all the other glasses.
In using the compound microscope, the real size of
the object is found by the same method as in the single :
but to demonstrate the magnifying power of each glass
to greater certainty, adopt the following method.—
Bay a two-feet rule on the stage, and a micrometer
level with its surface (an inch suppose, divided into
100 parts) : with one eye see how many of those parts
are contained in the field of the microscope, suppose
50) ; and with the other, at the same time, look for
the circle of light in the field of the microscope, which
with a little practice will soon appear distinct; mark
how much of the rule is intersected by the circle of
light, which will be half the diameter of the field.
Suppose eight inches; consequently the whole diame¬
ter will be sixteen. Now, as the real size of the field,
by the micrometers, appeared to be only 50 hundredths,
or half an inch, and as half an inch is only one 3 2d
part
MIC [ 806 ] MIC
Microme- part of 16 inches, it shows the magnifying power of the
ter. glass to be 32 times in length, 1024 superfices, and
32,768 cube (e).
63. Another way of finding the magnifying potver
of compound microscopes, is by using two micrometers
of the same divisions $ one adjusted under the magni¬
fier, the other fixed in the body of the microscope in
the focus of the eye-glass. Notice how many divi¬
sions of the micrometer in the body are seen in one
division of the micrometer under the magnifier, which
again must be multiplied by the power of the eye-glass.
Example : Ten divisions of the micrometer in the bo¬
dy are contained in one division under the magnifier;
so far the power is increased ten times : nowr, if the
eye-glass be one inch focus, such glass will of it¬
self magnify about seven times in length, which, with
the ten times magnified before, will be seven times ten,
or 70 times in length, 4900 superfices, and 343,000
cube.
“ If (says Mr Coventry) these micrometers are em¬
ployed in the solar microscope, they divide the object
into squares on the screen in such a manner as to render
it extremely easy to make a drawing of it. And (says
he) I apprehend they may be employed to great advan-
The glass micrometer without any mark is also di¬
vided, the outside lines into tooth, the next into
lOOOth, and the inside lines into the 4000th of an
inch: these are again crossed with an equal number of
lines in the same manner, making squares of the
100th, Ioooth, and 4000th of an inch, thus demonstra¬
ting each other’s size. The middle square of the 1 oooth
of an inch (see fig. 26.) is divided into sixteen squares j
now as 1000 squares in the length of an inch, mul¬
tiplied by 1000, gives one million in an inch surface;
by the same rule, one of those squares divided into 16
tage with such a microscope as Mr Adam’s lucernal; Micronic*
because this instrument may be used either by day or ter,
night, or in any place, and gives the actual magnifying Micrepus.
power without calculation.”
The case with which we have been favoured by Mr
Coventry contains six micrometers, two on ivory and
four on glass. One of those on ivory is an inch divided
into one hundred parts, every fifth line longer than the
intermediate ones, and every tenth longer still, for the
greater ease in counting the divisions under the micro¬
scope, and is generally used in measuring the magnifying
power of microscopes. The other ivory one is divided
into squares of the 50th and 100th of an inch, and is
commonly employed in measuring opaque objects.
Those made of glass are for transparent objects,
which, when laid on them, show their natural size.—
That marked on the brass 100, are squares divided to
the 1 ooth of an inch : that marked 5000 are parallel
lines forming nine divisions, each division the 1 oooth
of an inch ; the middle division is again divided into
5, making divisions to the 5000th of an inch. That
marked 10,000 is divided in the same manner, with
the middle division divided into 10, making the
10,000th of an inch. Example :
must be the sixteen millionth parth of an inch surface.
See fig. 26. which is a diminished view of the apparent
surface exhibited under the magnifier N° 1. of Wil¬
son’s microscope. In viewing the smallest lines, Mr
Coventry uses N° 2. or 3.; and they are all better seen,
he says, by candle than by day-light.
MICROPUS, Bastard Cudweed ; a genus of
plants belonging to the syngenesia class, and in the na¬
tural method ranking under the 49th order, Compositce,
See Botany Index.
(e) It will he necessary, for great accuracy, as well as for comparative observations, that the two-feet rule
should always be placed at a certain distance from the eye; eight inches would, in general, be a proper distance.
END OF THE THIRTEENTH VOLUME.
I
DIRECTIONS for placing the PLATES of Vol. XIII.
Part I.
Plate CCCXVI—CCCXXX. to £ace - - Page *36
CCCXXXI. CCCXXXII. ~ ^ 184
Part II.
CCCXXXIII. CCCXXXIV. - _ . J28
CCCXXXV. CCCXXXVI. ^ - - 806
' n - , :
.V\V '>
’’